A White Christmas...NOT!

The weather here has been on the abnormally warm side this year. While we have been pummled with rain there is no chance of a white Christmas again this year. I can't even remember when the last time was I've seen a white Christmas or even an Ice Christmas. I was born and raised in the great state of Georgia and even then it was long periods between much snow. What we would get down there during the winter were mostly Ice storms with perhaps a spatter of snow on top. These however never seemed to be at Christmas either. Ice storms for us kids were our snow storms back then. The pine trees bent over forming tunnels in the woods that we would walk under while hearing the popping of the ice under the warming of the day. Hardwood trees would pop and snap with the occasional dropping of limbs that would crash down bringing sparkling bits of ice with them making a pretty display. I can see the shimmering crystals even now that would let the light of the gas lamps in the yard make them dance as I would look out the upstairs window.
My parents were probably wishing it to be over as most times then we would lose power for days; sometimes a week at a time. While we would still sleep in our beds but the day time meant cooking and warming up in the large den with a wood fire burning hot and bright. Mom would rise to the occasion and cook there and always would have us hot chocolate or ovaltine. We'd rush inside for a bite to eat and warm ourselves beside the fire. After thirty minutes to an hour we would be back outside playing. Those were wonderful times that just seemed so perfect for some reason.
At night we would come in well after dark to eat and then play games by candle light. Laughter and stories were told then someone would bring in more wood for the fire to stoke it up for the night. It would be getting late before we'd head off to bed under the heavy covers. One of my brothers would be playing his guitar as we all listened to the soothing sounds of the notes permeate the room. Up in our rooms it felt so good to snuggle down with our heads barely sticking out. When morning came you dreaded getting out from under those warm covers when it was time for breakfast. Rushing down to the den though was like running through a freezer until you opened the den door and felt the warmth trapped inside. The smell of bacon and eggs, pancakes, sausage, French toast or oatmeal made a breakfast seem different then usual.
These times would have made for great Christmas memories if only they had been at Christmas time.
Maybe, just maybe my son and I will enjoy a white Christmas before he gets much older.