Christmas is in ten days and at long last, the sky looks like it might just deliver on a white Christmas.
And after a teaser Thanksgiving storm that marked Nora's first snowball fight (followed by weeks of unseasonably warm weather that had us riding bikes and playing with the last few shards of summer's sidewalk chalk), I am ready for a white Christmas. You would be too if you had our little snow bunny.
Maybe it's just the sentimental schmuckiness that rests in my heart over the holidays, but I am so looking forward to more of this -- watching "porterbeary" (Nora's name for her big brother) and "little missy" (Porter's label for Nora) play together (or at least contentedly alongside one another) in the snow.
And, in ten days (I keep saying it to remind myself that there is still much to be done by this blogging elf), watching them rip open presents that, I hope, will bring lots of jubilee.
I think we've gone a little overboard this year, but I'm pretty sure nothing will ever be as magical as these young, innocent years.
The perfect excuse to go whole hog.
Meanwhile, I keep glancing out the window. Waiting for snow (and wondering what I'm going to make for dinner tonight).
Now I really must get back to work. Because I hear rumblings of an office coup to head south tomorrow on "business" (our annual office shopping trip for all the last-minute holiday garb that we can't find in our one Wal Mart town).
Ten days and, if I'm lucky, snow!
