It was only a couple of days until Christmas and the weather in Petaluma was cold and dry. Back in Colorado Springs, our new home for the past 6 months, I heard the temperature was dropping and, with the wind chill, was reaching down to the single digits – brrrrrr! I wasn’t sure my California family was ready for that kind of cold yet and was glad we were here.
I had just finished changing the baby’s diaper and asked my wife, “Hon, this little guy is getting fussy. What do you think, is it time to put him down for the night?”
“Yea, most likely. What time is it?”
“A little after 8.” She walked over to take the baby. “I’ll feed him and put his down.”
I love Christmas music. I especially love songs that make me imagine what Christmas is like in other places. My top places to imagine spending Christmas have always been New York City, London, Paris, some enchanting village in Ireland or Germany, and more recently, I found out that Strasbourg, France, has a very famous Christmas market. these are all pretty exotic places, and I may well spend Christmas in some of them as a tourist in the future. But they will never be mine. My own hometown suffers from a relative lack of charm, so that may contribute to my desire to see Christmases elsewhere. The city I live in now that I’m grown has much more “curb appeal” because we have the gorgeous backdrop of the Rocky Mountains, but it is still neither a quaint French village nor a beautiful bustling city.