Originally uploaded by Wandering Eyre

This is usually the time of year when I start complaining about the lack of seasons in Houston. How it is never cold at Thanksgiving and Christmas. How I have to pretend it is cold enough for my favorite scarf. I cry about the 70 degree humid days in December. If you have been around long enough, you have heard me whining about this.

Mr. Rochester thinks it is hilarious that a native Houstonian hates the weather here with such passion.

Last night, I had nothing to complain about. We had actual. real. snow. in. Houston. Even at our house, so close to the coast, we had huge fluffy flakes that fell for a handful of hours. It even stuck around long enough to coat the bushes and the ground. The flakes were the perfect stickiness for snowballs and snowmen; it was a pity there was not more of it.

Children ran screeching down the road and in their yards until well after 10pm. Just the sight of it made me want to cry with joy. I dragged Mr. R, aka Mr. Bah Humbug, outside to enjoy the sight of the gentle flakes. I kissed him in the snow and laughed.

I do not think I need anything else for Christmas this year.

–Jane, Mr. R must still present her with presents, mind you. Jane has been good this year.