But The Lights Are So Delightful

We had our first major snow dump of the season yesterday, and might I say: "About freakin' time -- after the 3 days of heavy rain last week, which should have been snow, dammit! In December it's supposed to snow, not rain."

Heck, from where I grew up, many many miles north of here, in November it's supposed to snow, too. And I even remember a year or two when there was snow before Halloween . . . but of course that goes back about 25 years in the whole global warming thing that we're killing our planet with.

But in any case, we got a nice dumping of snow yesterday. Alexander delighted in joining me in shoveling the driveway, and, of course, just standing there and staring in awe at the giant white beautiful flakes as they floated down from the sky. (I sometimes feel like the easily excitable Tattoo, the little guy played by Herve Villechaize in Fantasy Island. But instead of running excitedly into the house shouting "Boss, Boss, da plane, da plane!" I usually run into the house yelling: "Fran, Fran, da snow, da snow!")

But one of the best things about snow is the way that the Christmas lights look. No matter how good they might look when you first put them up, they finally look just right in the presence of snow.