It was the day before Christmas, and all through the town,
not a liberal was stirring,
their cars were frozen down.
(No, I am not going to continue the poem, that would be too cruel to us all.)
(No, I am not going to continue the poem, that would be too cruel to us all.)
If we keep muttering, “This is why we left Minnesota” please forgive us.
We forgot what it feels like to be so cold you think the boogers in your nose are freezing solid.
We also found it a little humiliating that we, the natives from the frozen tundra part of the continental United States of America, don’t own shovels, boots, warm mittens, hats or scarves. We left them all in Minnesota, thinking we had no more use for them.
We had to borrow warm clothes from the kids to make this early morning photo shoot happen. (My husband doesn’t usually wear a pink-striped headwarmer)
Our favorite dock down on the waterfront.
Usually we like to sit and watch bad boat launchings.
Today the ducks and seagulls watched us.
To be honest, most days in this area look just like this, gray and overcast.
They just don’t usually have the white stuff on the ground.
Sipping a latte, of course, and pretending to feed the seagulls.
OK, we felt bad, we didn’t think to bring bread to actually feed them,
but we still wanted the shot.
Instead of “Rain, rain go away…” the natives are singing a new song.
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