The snow is packed down in places to near-ice, in others just a dusting over actual ice, which makes walking sticks mandatory (and a sense of adventure, meaning, you’ll get down the hill one way or another!)
For my friend Roger, who I understand is a steam train fanatic (although the sign is actually for a tram crossing, which makes it all the more charming.) Reminds me of Monopoly.
Mr. Snowman is all ready to party down for Fasching. If you’ve no lampshade to wear on your head, a festive saucepan will do just as well.