It's grand, Just holding your hand
I'm not sure when, but sometime in the past two weeks I managed to go a full year without being snowed on. That's from spending all but a week of winter on the equator, of course, but it's still something that so far as I'm aware I've never done before. Apart from two years in North Carolina ending when I was three, I've lived in places where a White Christmas was always plausible. But no flakes this year, except --
In December merchants along Orchard Road set up ``Christmas In The Tropics,'' with decorations and towers festooned with Santa Clauses from which they promised snow, 15 minutes of it at half-hour intervals after sunset. I went; wouldn't you? There are several ``Snow City'' places where one can frolic in artificial snow; why not put a generator out on the street?
When I looked at the snow, though -- it looked wrong. Not quite uniform, not quite symmetric. Odd, but what do I know about what artificial snow looks like? But it also floated wrong, not quite heavy enough. Peculiar, but have you seen snow when it's 90 F out? Hard to catch any flakes -- and I couldn't feel a drop of cold when I did manage to catch a flake. Nor would any gather in my beard.
Finally I saw a treebranch that had enough snow in it: this wasn't snow. This was soap bubbles! Not even refrigerated soap bubbles.
You could see the disappointment of some westerners at the snaux, but the kids were delighted, and after a little adjustment I came to enjoy the lukewarm and very tidy snauxfall, awaiting Christmas in the tropics.
Trivia: In 865 England (specifically, East Anglia) was invaded successfully by Ivar the Boneless and Halfdan, both sons of Ragnar Lothbrok (Lothbrok, literally, meaning ``Shaggy-pants''). Source: The Origins and Development of the English Language, Thomas Pyles and John Algeo.
Currently Reading: The Collected Works of Paddy Chayefsky: The Television Plays, Paddy Chayefsky.