Today's snow is the kind that sparkles. It is dark outside and still snowing a little but I can see the ground shimmer. Earlier I watched the dogs from the screen door. They were in the yard, dashing around, Rudy diving and rolling, Sophie charging him and barking. She has a cute fleece coat to wear to protect that hairless hotdog body from the elements. Rudy is an artic dog, and needs no such protection.
What is it about snow after Thanksgiving that makes me dream of Christmas? Lots of years I complain that it just doesn't feel like Christmas, but I can tell already that this is going to be one of those magic years, the kind I remember from childhood, warm rosy memories of shimmering golden white. I want to put on festive music, bake Mimmie's cookies, and go get a tree from the scouts. Last weekend in Samsonville, Bob put up lights on the front of the house, and I hung up the nativity scene I made a few years ago (photo below).
But the end of the semester is upon me and I have lots of evaluating to do. I am almost through the last of the essays, but reading term papers and journals, and calculating discussions, group projects and final grades are lurking just around the corner. I guess the sugar plums will have to wait.
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