It was the winter of 2012.

The snow began on a Thursday, late in the evening.

It didn’t stop for two days.

Students everywhere rejoiced at forced school closings.

Commuters cringed at icy roads and careless drivers.

Backs broke while removing the thick, heavy snow.

And a certain gal in Denver coped by concocting some French toast.

They proved to be mostly edible.

The certain gal in Denver felt triumphant over her mostly edible French toast.

An intrepid fellow joined the certain gal in the eating of the mostly edible French toast, the clearing of the difficult to locate car and the tromping through the 16 inches of snow.

The 16 inches of snow was very reflective, which made the intrepid fellow squint his eyes while tromping.

The certain gal took several photos with her fancy phone to document the 16 inches of snow, the tromping through it, the finding of the difficult to locate car (and subsequent clearing), the intrepid fellow, and the making of the mostly edible French toast.

And then she blogged about.

And that’s the story of how the certain gal spent her blizzardy weekend in Denver, Colo.

And now she’ll stop talking in the third person.

Hopefully.