Sing about a White Christmas if you like but that would make them laugh. They're heading into Summer so snow won't be on the forecast, well, ever.
This is what I know about Christmas as a kid, the way it's supposed to be. Some yokel started doing paintings in New England of isolated houses covered in snow at Christmas time and the girlies said, awww, that's so romantic. It is romantic ... so long as you're cozy inside. The only way it could suck worse outside is if wolverines bite your face.
Don't you love how snow always finds a way to come over the tops of your boots and get inside.
Ed: NO!
That's the spirit. Christmas means shielas, surfing, and sunblock.
Ed: you never surfed in your life!
Nope, and I was too young for the sheilas plus we never used sunblock at all.
The bodgies and the widgens were the cool ones since they were the outlaws of the fifties who became the rockers of the sixties. I was too young for them too but we saw them sometimes, hanging out and being cool.
That six kids were never poisoned, eaten, or otherwise carried away by Australia's wildlife is an amazement, particularly given how willful that lot can be. There's your reality show: take six kids to Australia and try to keep track of them. We will kick back to watch. Have a ball.
There was one event which I'll relate because of what it wasn't. The younger sibs may not remember any of this. There was a car which was smashed beyond imagination and it wasn't so much shredded as pushed back into itself. My ol' Dad was in it and this was before I had any particular awareness of such things.
He was blind for some unknown period after that. I think the driver was killed. This isn't at all Christmas but it must have seemed like it to him when his vision came back.
There's not a long lament to follow since I don't know any details anyway. If you're not getting the thankful part, probably half the family would not even exist if the outcome had been different.
The family was much smaller when he pulled one of his signature stunts and said to my ol' Mother, "What say we go to the other side of the world?"
He pulled that three times if you count California to Ohio in that category and each time she rolled right with it. So, yah, be thankful your mother was such a bad ass female also.
Ed: are you getting nostalgic?
Nah, I'm just blowing bubbles in case someone enjoys them.
One more since it stays with the snow theme and the sibs likely remember when the 'rents sought to introduce us to snow. None of us had ever even seen it except in pictures and had no idea what it was like to be in it. We unanimously hated it.
It wasn't until about ten years later after some time in Cincinnati that Frasers decided, almost en masse, snow with skiing is good and anything is better than sitting in a box for six months of the year.
This is what I know about Christmas as a kid, the way it's supposed to be. Some yokel started doing paintings in New England of isolated houses covered in snow at Christmas time and the girlies said, awww, that's so romantic. It is romantic ... so long as you're cozy inside. The only way it could suck worse outside is if wolverines bite your face.
Don't you love how snow always finds a way to come over the tops of your boots and get inside.
Ed: NO!
That's the spirit. Christmas means shielas, surfing, and sunblock.
Ed: you never surfed in your life!
Nope, and I was too young for the sheilas plus we never used sunblock at all.
The bodgies and the widgens were the cool ones since they were the outlaws of the fifties who became the rockers of the sixties. I was too young for them too but we saw them sometimes, hanging out and being cool.
That six kids were never poisoned, eaten, or otherwise carried away by Australia's wildlife is an amazement, particularly given how willful that lot can be. There's your reality show: take six kids to Australia and try to keep track of them. We will kick back to watch. Have a ball.
There was one event which I'll relate because of what it wasn't. The younger sibs may not remember any of this. There was a car which was smashed beyond imagination and it wasn't so much shredded as pushed back into itself. My ol' Dad was in it and this was before I had any particular awareness of such things.
He was blind for some unknown period after that. I think the driver was killed. This isn't at all Christmas but it must have seemed like it to him when his vision came back.
There's not a long lament to follow since I don't know any details anyway. If you're not getting the thankful part, probably half the family would not even exist if the outcome had been different.
The family was much smaller when he pulled one of his signature stunts and said to my ol' Mother, "What say we go to the other side of the world?"
He pulled that three times if you count California to Ohio in that category and each time she rolled right with it. So, yah, be thankful your mother was such a bad ass female also.
Ed: are you getting nostalgic?
Nah, I'm just blowing bubbles in case someone enjoys them.
One more since it stays with the snow theme and the sibs likely remember when the 'rents sought to introduce us to snow. None of us had ever even seen it except in pictures and had no idea what it was like to be in it. We unanimously hated it.
It wasn't until about ten years later after some time in Cincinnati that Frasers decided, almost en masse, snow with skiing is good and anything is better than sitting in a box for six months of the year.
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