White Christmas

I woke up about 4 a.m. on Christmas morn 2005 to a bedroom lit up like the airport. During the night, the rain from Christmas Eve had changed over to snow, and there was enough of the white stuff to cover the ground and reflect the ten-thousand Xmas lights on our street. It was the perfect snowstorm--just enough to blanket the grassy areas without turning the sidewalks, driveways, and streets into a skating rink.
It reminded me of the year my wife and son and I went looking for the proper Christmas Tree on a snowy weekday evening. We sorted through the rows of potential purchases as Bing Crosby crooned "White Christmas" through speakers strung above the tree lot. The specimen we picked out was covered with snow, at least until I hoisted it up to load in the bed of my truck. At that moment, I got my first taste of what an avalanche feels like. As we drove home, with the now melting snowpile on my head running down my neck and soaking my t-shirt, I realized why people move to warmer climes!
Not every St. Louis Winter is cold. One Christmas Eve, we enjoyed lunch at Red Lobster, saw the movie "E.T." and then returned home to open presents on a balmy 70-degree evening.
On the flip side, in 1983 it was below zero every day for a week, and we had to thaw our tree before we could get the branches to relax so we could add lights and ornaments.
I wonder how hard it is to string lights on a palm tree?