The morning of Christmas Eve, The Missus Herself and I were up and about our business rather earlier than normal. For it was time to head north to my homeland for to celebrate the birth of the Savior with my Mom, brothers, sister-in-law, nephew, niece, and the niece's sweetheart. (I dunno, is it okay to say that in this day and age?) Anyhoo, he is a nice guy and City Girl is sweet on him, so there ya go.
The weather on the way north was très misérable, or as I would have pronounced it in the days of my youth, "trez miserable." (Yup, noose parlons frankase.) The rain came down in sheets and I, being something of a purist regarding my New England Christmases, had visions of a soggy Natal festival.
Normally at this time of year it's usual to see snow when one is about 40 miles north of Providence in Little Rhody, for Worcester (pronounced Wooster, no really) is in the heart of the Massachusetts snow belt. Not this year though. Off in the trees one could see the pitiful remnants of some old snowfall, the surviving whiteness huddled in the shadow of the pines, trying desperately to make the Sarge's Christmas white. I was beginning to despair, especially as we approached the New Hampshire border and it was still raining.
Though things started to look up when we got to Keene, New Hampshire. The rain had stopped and there was still a bit of snow to be seen nearer the highway. Not much but at least the rain had stopped.
The closer we got to the abode of Madame Mère, the more snow we could see. In fact, my Mom had told me that they had had a snow squall at the very moment I had called her from the flight deck of Chez Sarge as we were taxiing up to the cat to launch this Christmas sortie. I had high hopes as the snow was more in evidence.
Within ten miles of the homeland, the snow lay thick and crisp upon the land. And it was cold! Not an Arctic chill mind you, just cold enough to keep the snow from melting. While it wasn't exactly "deep and crisp and even," it was good enough to warm the cockles of the old Sarge's heart. (And yes, Juvat, I actually have a heart. Can you believe it? He wanted the entire day off on Christmas. It's unfair I tell you! "But Sarge, it's only once a year." A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every twenty-fifth of December!)
|Christmas Morning, Charlestown, NH|
Anyhoo, Christmas up north was excellent and well worth playing U-Boat captain for most of the way. (No really, it rained so hard that I thought we were underwater for part of the way.) I would write more but, I'll say it with photos...
I pray that your own Christmas went well and that you were able to be with people you love. I did and am thankful for that. "Ebenezer" Sarge here, good day.