90 Minutes ...

... is how long it took me to walk home from work. By choice. I got so excited/distracted/confused/lost (in that order) because of all that snow that I wandered around forever. Now I'm exhausted and rather cold, but it's friday and that fixes everything.
My boss offered me a ride home, but I said: "No way! I've been looking forward to this all day!" - which probably cemented my reputation of crazy foreign person.
It was rather lovely to be out walking. Even if I manage to fall into every snow-covered pothole in the entire village. Or off the sidewalk because I can't see where it ends.

I checked the hole in the tree. It is filled with squirrel. The feeder hangs on the other side of it so I put extra food out. How could anyone resist lodgings with breakfast, lunch and dinner?