a Christmas Joy rough patch.

Saturday started out so promising… so full of Christmas joy.  I had Starbucks Christmas Blend coffee for the first time (it is amazing – how have I never purchased it before??).  Then I baked Christmas cookies with Heidi and Cara.  Also wonderful.  I came home, finished my felt Christmas trees while simultaneously watching a Christmas movie on Netflix and the beautiful snow falling outside my window.

I packed up the cookies and my Christmas cheer for Hope’s Christmas party: it was a night full of promise.  Promises of Mr. and Mrs. Claus stopping by for a visit, of Home Alone being watched, of snowflakes being cut out, and of games being played.  Christmas magic everywhere.

And then disaster struck.  Completely out of the blue.  Well, 71% out of the blue.  Well, if I’d connected the dots it really wouldn’t have been that out of the blue at all.  I need new tires, but haven’t gotten them up, and apparently the car guy new what he was talking about when he said I’d better get them before it snows.  It was kind of like my car was going ice skating.  And there wasn’t even THAT much snow.  I felt like such a lame Minnesotan when I turned around a mile from home in just two inches of snow.  My poor little car couldn’t handle it.

I said, “Hey Car, you should do more than just spin your tires.  You know, like maybe drive forward.”  Car said, “Laura, that is a GREAT idea.  Why didn’t I think of that?”  I said, “I don’t know car.  You’d think it would have been your first response to me pressing on the gas pedal.”  Car said, “Laura, I was being sarcastic.  Maybe if you would give me tires that actually work, I would do my job a little bit better.”  I said, “Fine.”  Car said, “Fine.  And we turned around and went home.

To help ease my sorrows, Tiffany offered to make us dinner.  (us being me and Tiffany, not me and my car)

In efforts to regain some of the lost Christmas joy, we went for a magical stroll in the snow to take in magic of the neighborhood Christmas lights.  I was definitely starting to feel better – much more Christmassy.  It was like we were living in a snow globe.  Love.  I even had to be held back from frolicking amongst the giant candy canes at the neighbor’s house.  One house has their lights choreographed to music.  Since I didn’t have my boom box on my shoulder, we couldn’t tune in to the designated radio station.  We tried singing a couple songs to see if they worked.  But eventually we just had to walk away.

Next we played “slide down the icy street in your boots”.  I didn’t think I could play at first – too much traction on the soles of my boots and safety consciousness in my heart.  When we found some slipperier ground, I timidly joined in the fun.  Next game: see if you can catch the super giant snowflakes on your tongue.

And for the grand finale of our stroll in the snowflakes, we thought it would be the most magical to walk through the woods near our house that are a part of a local park.  While we approached the park, I got out my cell phone so that we could listen to Wintersong while walking through the woods while living in our Minnesotan snowglobe.  What could be more magical than that, right?  

Then Tiffany saw this sign.  

Yup, you’ve read correctly.  The woods were CLOSED due to an archery tournament.  WHAT?!  Who has archery tournaments in the middle of the ‘burbs??  We weighed our options, and decided that the sorrow now in our hearts would be better than the pain of being shot by an arrow.  With heavy hearts we walked away.

We tried walking around a random tree on the side of the road while listening to the pretty music, but it just wasn’t the same.  

Then we went home.

We ate dinner.

We watched a Christmas movie.

I went to sleep and dreamed of candycanes, sugar plums, and future Christmas parties that I would actually get to attend.*

*those were not my real dreams.  but I wish they were.

 

I thought it was spring. Was I confused?

Dear Winter,

It is time to go away. Give it up.   I don’t want to see you again for at least 6 months.  Maybe 8 months.  You are no longer welcome here.  I no longer want to dress kindergartners in hats and gloves and scarves.  I stopped wearing my winter coat weeks ago, but sometimes I am still cold in my fleece.  I blame YOU, winter.  It is spring.  It is time for you to go home.  Remember that your home is now in the Southern Hemisphere (or will be soon when they are done with fall).  You had a nice run this year.  We welcomed your first blizzard, and trudged through the next few.  We are done being a gracious hostess.  It is not time to say goodbye.

Sincerely,

Laura

In case a well-written letter doesn’t work, I googled, “How to get rid of unwanted guests.”

Here are some ideas you might consider trying:

  • eviction notice
  • charge rent
  • stop feeding them
  • feed them gross food
  • pretend the plasma tv broke and get out the black and white television
  • blast horrible music
  • call the cops
  • change the locks
I am not sure if these tactics will work to get rid of winter, but it is worth a shot…
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wait… did you hear that?  Winter, I think I hear someone calling your name…. yep, there it was again.  Listen carefully – I think that is Argentina.  She misses you!  And so does South Africa, and Brazil is calling your name also!  Go!  Run, winter!  Run!
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If that doesn’t work, try the, “you go to the southern hemisphere and I’ll time you and see how fast you can get there.  Ready?  GO!  1…2…3…”