It seems as though, at this time of year
Craziness surrounds us.
If parties and shopping weren't enough
There's the weather to confound us.
There's not a lot of winter stuff
Of which I am a fan.
Cold and snow and slippery streets
Make me long for warmer lands.
Though Christmas would not be white
And sleigh bells would not ring,
Perhaps I'd be a happier sort
When listening to old Bing.
There was a winter where there was
Not a snowflake to be seen.
We rode our bikes around the yard
The morning after Christmas Eve.
For December in Saskatchewan,
That's as good as it can get.
All we can say for this year, though,
Is it isn't 40 below - yet.
But while I dream of sandy beaches
And decorated palm trees
I'm not sure if it'd feel like Christmas
Without some part of me starting to freeze.
Decorating outside would be awesome
There would be no snow to fight.
No wind, no rain, no mitts or toques
No frozen cords or lights.
But from inside, looking out
Things would look pretty strange
With Christmas all around you
And no white stuff beyond the panes.
There's really nothing cozier
Than sitting by the tree,
A cup of hot cocoa in your hand,
And a good book upon your knee.
Looking out the window
At the cold, crisp scenery
And knowing that you can stay in,
There's nowhere else you need to be.
So while I curse the snow and cold
It's the price of this best season.
If I want it to feel like Christmas
I have to submit to freezing.
But after Christmas, I still wish
That temperatures would soar
The snow could go, and that stupid wind chill
Can follow Santa out the door.
