I am looking at a foot of snow on the ground outside the window of the vast Western Farmer-Stockman campus. What's unusual about it is that we don't get snow here in the northern Pacific much.
But it hit with a vengeance on Feb. 6. School administrators screamed "Snow Day," and thousands of students responded with "Yes!"
Funny thing is that when I was growing up in Michigan, this kind of a day would be a mild event. People around here don't know ice storms and constant snow on the ground throughout the winter months when even Robins wear little Cabela coats.
I tell my grandchildren the conventional: "I walked to school through snow blizzards so fierce your hair froze and you couldn't see your hand in front of your face."
They aren't impressed as they continue to punch video game controls beside snow laced windows.
Temperatures fell to 17 degrees above here, and while our readers in Montana and Wyoming say that's spring weather, it certainly isn't the norm near Portland and Seattle. So strange is harsh winter here that the ladies I see on the way to the store are strolling around in short skirts and guys are shopping in shorts.
Don't tell us it isn't nice weather here.
Nevertheless, we're cloistered in our warm little nests with fires in the fireplaces, heaters turned to high, shades down and wearing sweatshirts in our home. My dog wonders what all that white stuff is. Some Husky she is.
I even got out that plastic model of the Mighty Missouri battleship my wife gave me a birthday ago and started trying to read the instructions, written in letters too small for my old eyeballs. Hope I don't mount the bow on the wrong end!