The prompt for 22 is White Christmas or green Christmas?
I’ve been hoping for a White Christmas since I got back to Indiana and I still haven’t had one. Maybe the third time is the charm?
Just this morning at 3am, I was lying in bed, pondering over my endless supply of worries, when all of a sudden I heard a hauntingly familiar noise, repeating itself. Rain. I picked up my phone and checked the weather. Yep, 51 and rainy. The weather is so mild this week, there is no hope of snow.
Snow is much more enjoyable when you don’t have to go anywhere. So nice to admire from the warmth of your home — say, in front of a large picture window with heat blowing on your feet and a hot cuppa in your hand? Much nicer to play in it at 3pm rather than brush it off your car at 7am.
I’m always dreaming of a white Christmas. Actually, I’d like snow on the ground all winter.
People hate that about me.
Usually, I just get ice on my street all winter. S’not the same.