I picked the WRONG day to neclect to bring a coat or umbrella

Taken from my front porch. That white stuff is hail.
Waiting for the bus? Was not fun.

Max, as usual, tried to escape. I let him, thinking the rain and hail would get him to forever stop asking to go out. I was wrong. His grass-tasting tour of the yard was uninhibited. "Oooh," says Max, "ICED grass. A rare delicacy indeed!"