Everyone Deserves a White Christmas

It is snowing all over the country.

Except here.

Record amounts of the white stuff is falling in the Pacific Northwest, the Midwest and the East Coast. Even Las Vegas and California have received record amounts. Not us, though. We've got the big goose egg. Zip. Nada.

The local weather forecasters are full of doom and gloom about how we are going to be pummeled by the weather. They raise their voices in excitement and speculate about how terrible it is going to be. Dire warnings. IT COULD BE LIFE THREATENING. Run to the hardware store for a generator. Stock up on canned food and water. Prepare for the worst.

And nothing. Just another cold and sunny day in the pseudo south.

Yesterday, Olivia complained that I had broken my promise to help her build a snowman. She thinks that I am personally responsible for the weather. Apparently, I just need to get on the phone and call Jack Frost himself because she is on winter holiday and WHERE THE HELL IS THE SNOW?

I relocated to the south specifically to avoid harsh weather. I hate the winter. I grew up in Canada and had my fill of ice covered windshields, slippery sidewalks and day upon day of bleak gray skies. When I first moved to the US, I landed in San Diego, which is like being on holiday all year round. It was April and I didn't experience a lick of precipitation until the following February when the disorienting sound of rain on the roof woke me up out of a sound sleep. I used to send granules of beach sand in the letters that I sent home to my mum. I remember waking most mornings with my windows open and being able to smell the ocean. The weather in SoCal is quite possibly the most perfect that I have ever experienced and there are days that I can't understand why I ever left.

Except that paradise can sometimes get a little boring. Sure, the sunny weather makes it hard to be a fat and lazy sloth since it practically screams for one to get outside and exercise but there is something to be said for the slow death of fall or the freshness of spring. I like the change of seasons. I even look forward to snow under very controlled circumstances. I want it to fall on Christmas Eve, when there is no work, no school and no pressure to drive. I want it to be those gentle, big ass snowflakes that you can catch on your tongue. I want it to blanket the area and make it a lovely winter wonderland so that Christmas morning is presents, a cozy fire, peppermint laced hot chocolate and cold, rosy cheeks.

Then I want it to completely melt, disappear and have the sun warm everything up to Harley riding weather by Boxing Day. And it's not to come back until next Christmas Eve. I really don't think that I'm being unreasonable.

The weathermen were calling for a mixture of snow and rain today which had Olivia nearly rapturous. Predictably, that forecast has been modified and now, there isn't a single snowflake in the foreseeable future.

I think I'll tell her that Santa wanted to golf and leave it at that.