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Finally, a snow worth calling a snow in Southeast Wisconsin.  This lukewarm, on-the-fence winter we’ve had so far is disgusting.  I haven’t spent the last month and a half steeling my nerves and training for the cold to deal with temperatures in the forties.  This is Wisconsin after all and winter would not be winter without the pain and heartache of the cold ice and snow.

“Just wait,” it tells me, “You won’t even recognize me in a few months.”  Guess everything’s got to make some sort of resolution for the upcoming New Year.

Remember, rain is merely warm snow, snow is merely frozen rain, and all of it is just two hydrogen atoms covalently bonded to an oxygen atom.

The dormancy of my garden and the promise of spring is seen every where.  The chill of winter abates when I remind myself the seasons, though reoccurring year after year, also contain a ephemeral nature within.

Amazing artistry in these chocolates my mom got for Sarah and myself for Christmas.  Check out Ghyslain Chocolatier if you’re a fan of anything cocoa or in need of the perfect gift for a special some one.

Oh the snow.  Two days late.  Bing and I are slightly perturbed our white Christmas will have to wait another year.

Now begins the mad dash to the beginning of 2012 and all I can think of is where the hell 2011 went.  As a child, the days trudged along week by week, month by month.  Now I blink, a month passes and I’m wondering.

Kill the fattened goose, hang the stockings, and drink enough to tolerate the holiday stress.  Happy Kwanukkamas (Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, and Chrismas if you were wondering).

Whoever invented the over-sized gag sunglasses must be a thousandaire a few times over.  If he’s not compensated with material wealth for such an ingenious product he’s at least content to know the multitudes of laughter and joy he’s brought the populace with spectacles befitting a giant.

Yes, in fact I did find it.  It took some time and more imagination than an army of children could muster, but I did find the machine that produces snow for Santa Claus.  For some reason it was located in a brew-pub and was only perceptible after several round of barley wine.