Tornado, then snow . . .

Just to add insult to injury, an arctic front roared in after the tornado, then blanketed us in snow . . .

December Moon

It's been an odd year, ending with an odd month, when the 81-degree afternoon melted into a bitter cold evening, granting us a rare December snowfall. The moon rise this evening was breathtaking, large and full and swollen with the end of the year, the largest moon we will see for at least another year as it draws near the earth in its orbit.

My grandfather called this the Twelfth Moon, his name for the moon at the turn of the year, but other people, other tribes know it as the Cold Moon, the Bitter Moon--the Snow Moon. It is not often we see the Snow Moon here in the south, so I will snuggle beneath a blanket with the cat, basking in the golden glow of this Snow Moon, and know that other people, other tribes, will do the same.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful . . .

So, I'm dancing around to Harry Connick Jr.'s Christmas play list making five dozen sausage and cheese balls for the ARWA Christmas party. Cookies for Jess are packed and ready to go, I've got curlers in my hair, and it starts pouring down rain.

Can't get out of the driveway, and now I'm stuck with a bazillion delicious sausage balls and two-dozen cookies. I wisely put the cookies in the freezer, but I'm sad to report that there are now only half a bazillion sausage balls. By the time Law and Order was on, it'd started snowing big, fat, fluffy flakes, and get this, there was thunder and lightning. I've never known it to snow with a soundtrack . . .

Next thing I know, the kids next door came pounding on the door wanting to know if they could "Have my snow."

Well, I wasn't using it, so I told them to feel free, take as much as they wanted, but please take it from my driveway. So, I'm a little opportunistic . . . I wonder if they like to mop floors . . .

Sadly, I missed the party . . . but I hear a good time was had by all, except those of us who couldn't get out of the drive way, those of us on deadline, and poor Farrah, who drove around endlessly looking for the party. I too, Farrah, am directionally challenged . . . I feel your pain, sistah.

I hope everyone got home all right, and see you in January.