November Snow

This morning, I woke up to a substantial amount of snow.

At least, substantial for November (as I'm used to it).

I'm definitely not one for cold and wind, but if you throw a soft, white blanket all over the world like that, who can resist? It's like instant Christmas.

For those of you who are familiar with Virginia, you know that it's not the tropics by any means; snow, however, is usually reserved as an occasional treat for the end of December and only really starts coming down after the first of the year. I can even say that there were years during high school when I would go tree shopping with my family, outside, in 70-degree weather. I guess the fact that Target makes short-sleeved Christmas tees isn't so silly, after all.

In Michigan, however, winter apparently starts much earlier. You don't necessarily have those few weeks of cold teasing you before the big precipitate event--the snow just comes, and you bundle up and deal with it. It's okay, though — I've been forewarned of nothern U.S. weather more than anything else I've been constantly nagged about in my life, so I feel like it's a waste of time to complain. On a related note, if any of you bother to tell me one more time just how cold it's going to be up here this winter, I hope you understand why I've decided never to speak to you again.

Winter is cold—that's reality. It's also Christmas time, there's snow (as there should be), and I plan to not worry about January through March until I absolutely need to. It's not Antarctica, for crying out loud.

In the meantime, I choose to appreciate the good things in life—like making cookies and luminaries while I enjoy my warm home and Christmas music plays in the background. And that's as it should be.