The state premier of Victoria, Dan Andrews, didn't plunge regional Vic into a state of disaster immediately - we've had three days grace to wrap our heads around it, gallavant about, and bulk buy bog roll. We were quite glad that the Premier of Snow thought it'd be awesome to give us a sprinkling before lockdown so that kids could piff snowballs at each other, families could build snowmen, and Buttercup could test out her all terrain tires. Consequently, this photo is me, jubilantly joyful. Like, far out babe, it's actually sprinkling SNOW from the SKY on ME!

Before you think I'm a lunatic (or more of one than usual) we don't GET snow where I live. It's super rare, and when it does get that cold, we're usually at work, where it ISN'T snowing. I've experienced falling snow about five times in my entire life, so it's a big deal. Once was when I was in England, and I'd just met Jamie. We were snuggled up in the back of his mobile library (a gorgeous live in vehicle way before the tiny home movement) and I was hoping it would snow before I left for Australia, which I was meant to. 'I'll call it in for you' he smiled in a very romantic way. A gift of snow? Awww. In the morning, he shook me awake and pulled me to the window. It was indeed snowing - lunatic River running around in the snowy woods ensued.

I mean, you can understand me, right? The Otways State Forest is extraordinarily beautiful as it is, let alone dappled white. Huge tree ferns nodded wetly, sagged down with snow, and black wallabies shook ice from their whiskers as they scampered away from the 4WD's come to see the event. It was so quiet and beautiful, and when the sun came out to light up the spectacle, my heart leapt to the skies in pure wonder. For you human beings north of the equator who experience snow on a scale way bigger than this, please don't destroy my joy at this sprinkling - we just don't see it. It's cool!

We drove and drove along the main bush track (most routes are shut as it's winter) all the way to a town called Forrest - lower down, so no snow. We heated up moong dahl on the burner and toasted Afghan bread - a perfect winter meal that warmed our cockles.

After a cuppa tea we unfurled the woolly blanket I had the foresight to bring with us and snuggled up in the back. Occasionally the sun would come out and warm things up a tad, and then it'd rain again, and we dozed off into a beautiful sleep. We don't often stop for rest, so this was as special as the snow. I haven't felt so calm in weeks.

Then we were off down the track again, down to Lorne and the wild and windy sea, where we drank a stout and ate corn chips and felt like we just had the best mini holiday of the year.