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By this morning, the snow had stopped.

I couldn't believe it, and after being basically housebound for the last two days, was eager to get outside.

I was less eager when I learned it was 22 degrees outside.

But determined nonetheless. So Freckles, Baby J, my father and I sallied forth to buy some essentials for tonight's dinner party at the Lamb's Grocery Store -- maybe a quarter mile from my parents' new house. 

I should tell you now that the dinner party has been canceled because the guests couldn't safely drive to the house -- its cancellation seats it alongside most of the flights into Portland, so we made it in on Friday right in time. 

Baby J now has a snowsuit, courtesy of my mom. When I first saw it, at the airport, I thought, "Wow, that's really cute but also kind of ridiculous." I have since revised this opinion.

We wrapped him in the suit, a snow hat, gloves, and shoes -- with pants and a sweatshirt underneath. After bundling ourselves up just as tightly, we stuck him in the Moby wrap (which later decided to murder my shoulder) and began to walk.

It was lovely. Snow bordered the edges of trees. Sledders careened down my parents' huge steep hill. On the usually-busy South Shore Boulevard, cars were replaced by tiny groups of colorfully clad people, walking around or running errands on foot. (Last night, Portland required chains for all drivers -- this morning, the news recommended no one drive unless absolutely necessary.)

I was so worried about Baby J in the cold -- even with Freckles's scarf wrapped around his face for warmth. Happily, Baby J is truly my child. After staring in horror at the white expanse of neighborhood and street, he decided enough was enough, and went to sleep until we arrived back at the house. (If you know me, I have probably already bored you with my story about how I slept through the escape of an attempted murderer past my bedroom window in high school. When I awoke, I listened in hazy awareness to the police's discussion of how he had absconded with a fire poker. "Huh," I remember thinking, "I guess he's gone now, so I might as well go back to sleep.")

The grocery store was warm and inviting. We bought essentials -- mulling spices, sugar, puff pastry, some fruits and vegetables. When the clerk mildly asked if it had started snowing again, everyone looked up in a panic. He quickly decided that it was just "the vapors in the air."

We hurried on home.

Despite our cavalier conversation with my parents' neighbors ("we should put in a ski lift here and start charging!") everyone was happy to make it home.

My father then shoveled a path from the front door to the street, but the universe quickly took note of his industry. Less than an hour later, the snow started roaring down, obscuring our view of the houses across the street. Looks like we'll be in for a bit longer.