Eight inches of snow is a challenge when your belly is only six inches from the ground. Normally, I will not run into any snow without first investigating, but on this occasion, the first major snowfall this year, I had waited long enough and had to let nature take its course. My running leap landed me up to my neck in fresh powder. I barely could move. And yes, before you ask, I was wearing an all-weather coat and was as prepared as I thought possible. Were I a dead fish, I might not have cared but I am not and now, with my privates encased and quickly chilling in their snow-compress, I panicked and just let go.
This is how I learned the origin of The Yellow Snow Cone.