My house is fully decked out for Christmas. The tree is up
and the stockings are hung. My mother’s handmade ceramics are placed high on
shelves where my meddlesome cats can’t knock them down. The outside is set
ablaze with thousands of blinking lights so Brent will let me keep the lights
inside solid. And it’s 82 degrees outside.
Yup. Eighty-freaking-two degrees.
Yes, I know there are plenty of people in 30-something
degree weather who would LOVE it to be in the eighties today, but let me tell