Chicago hadn’t had any measurable snowfall for months. As Christmas drew near this year, it looked like everyone was going to have to do without the white stuff. Bah, humbug.
But I had a plan. Yesterday, at the last possible minute, I removed the tangled mass of fake red berries that passes for our Christmas wreath from the front door, and replaced it with an old piece of craftwork that usually remains hidden in our holiday closet. It usually snows well enough around here, without any extra encouragement. But drastic times call for drastic measures.
I won’t say that it did the trick overnight, because there was no snow on the ground when we woke up this morning, to see what Santa had brought for everyone. But it started to snow a couple of hours later, and now there’s just enough snow on the ground to qualify as an officially White Christmas.
Chicago, you’re welcome. And a Merry Christmas to all!