Monday, December 17, 2012

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, With every Christmas card I write. May your days be merry and bright, And may all your Christmases be white.

Hello and welcome to my tiny little corner of the vast internet universe, here at where the road ends for me, at my blogger ranch. Good to see you as we brace ourselves for another day, this day, Monday, December 17, 2012. We all love the songs about snow at Christmas time, winter wonderland, and Frosty the Snowman. Here in these parts that scenario, on average, is just about as scarce as hen's teeth. (A chicken actually uses their gizzard to grind up their food but that's a story for a different day.) That does not mean we have never had really cold weather at Christmas time. In 1983 we hit 11 degrees. As I recall, that was the year that many people returned home to find all their pipes busted and their ceilings collapsed. In 1989 we recorded 1.7 inches of snow on December 22. Close. That same year we hit 20 degrees on Christmas day. We have had some warm Christmases as well. In 1987 it hit 78 degrees and there was one 82 degree Christmas recorded back in 1964. We didn't come into this area until 1969, therefore, I've pretty well stuck to the history since our arrival. There are a variety of interesting extremes from back in the 1920's and beyond, so feel free to check them out if you are interested. On average, Christmas day over these many years has been pretty good. Low around 40 and a high around 62. And, yes, while not often, there have been some rainy days here and there as well. Here's my take: Regardless of the weather, we plan to, Lord willing, enjoy a day of feasting and fellowship with family.

By now you should be fully aware that I am a committed people watcher in the Yogi Bera tradition, "You can observe a lot just by watching." The other day I saw a fellow who came out of one of those convenience stores holding an adult beverage with the little brown bag on it. He was hardly taller and than he was wide. His friend was waiting for him in his truck. One big problem. This truck was one of those jacked up models barely under the size of those monster vehicles you see on TV. The rider was pretty short, and pretty wide. He first tried to hold his drink in one hand and sling his leg up on to the step required to climb into the truck. After a couple of tries at this, he then looked for a place to put his drink so he could use both hands to help mount this too tall ride. Finally he figured out a way and I could tell he was out of breath, and so was I, just from watching. I was stopped at a traffic signal and this late model Volvo pulled up beside me. Inside were two ladies, maybe in their early fifties, identical twins. I mean clone looking. Even dressed mostly alike. The driver was on her Bluetooth chattering away and the look-alike passenger had her Daytimer out making notes as she also talked on her cell phone. Maybe they were in real estate or something, but visually it just seemed a little odd to me. To me. Not you. Me. That, I am afraid is something I have to live with.

The old saying puts forth the idea that we all have a look-alike or double out there in the world, somewhere. I've had quite a number of sightings myself, especially when dressed as Santa. I do remember one time when I approached a fellow, called his name, and made the comment that I did not know he was back in the states. He wasn't the person I knew. He wasn't altogether pleased that I had thought that he was the person I knew. He was standing with a group of other folks. Awkward. Embarrassing. Talk about a dead ringer! But, we live and learn, as they say. I actually started to say it has been an interesting week but then I remembered that today is Monday. No wonder Paw Paw Mac always said that I woke up in a new world every day. Come to think about it, that might explain a lot of things. I read this joke: A woman comes up behind her husband who was reading the newspaper and bops him on the noggin with a frying pan. He declares, "What was that for?" She told him it was for the note she found in his pants pocket with the woman's name Sue Ellen on it. He protested, "That's not a woman's name, it's the name of the horse I bet on the other day." A few days later, same scene, only this time the wife sneaks up and hits him again with an even larger frying pan. Reeling from the blow, he demanded an explanation, "What was that for?" She calmly said, "Just so you know, your horse called today." Okay. That's it for today. Mercifully so. Now, here's the deal. Go out there and have yourself a really good day and be sure and thank God for His provisons. Amen.    ...More later.

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