Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

IT’S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS
Yay! The snow is here. I awoke to a freezing breeze blowing through my partially opened window, nipping my nose and letting me know that winter had finally arrived. I looked out the window and was rewarded with snowflakes the size of 50 cent pieces floating in the cone of light shed by the street light in the alley way just outside my window. I could hear the white silence covering the city through my open window, and donned my warm slippers as I walked across my chilled hardwood floor to put the kettle on to boil for tea. It was a picture-perfect morning, and I sang Christmas songs out loud as I dug my warm boots, long socks, cashmere scarf and hat out of the closet. I had found them all, along with a wonderful coat at my favorite thrift store, and had been waiting for the first occasion to wear my new accessories. The coat was dark blue, down-filled and form fitting, and made my butt look good.
I felt a bit like the kid from “A Christmas Story,” as I left my building—partly because I was bundled up enough to resemble the Michelin Man—but mostly because of the child-like joy that hit me as I started sloshing through the snow. The biting cold on my face and fingers felt glorious, and I was transported back to my youth, walking to the bus stop with my brother Tim, desperately trying to blow smoke rings with our frozen breath, watching for frozen puddles to jump on, and generally feeling like the wonder of winter had washed away all evil and terrible things in the world.
Then I flashed to another time in my life, a not so pleasant winter time. I was being held hostage by Corporate America, and too busy/hurried to enjoy the winter. I would awake in a panic on snowy days, knowing I would have to leave the house early, still risk being late to work and suffering the “Stink eye” from my boss, and having to worry about getting in an accident along the way, causing my insurance premiums to go up. I never owned winter boots then, I just hurried out to my car, started it and let it run long enough to warm up, then threw on a sweatshirt, grabbed Jess and darted to the car before Jack Frost had a chance to tickle us with his embrace. To the office I went, where I dashed inside and stayed warm all day until it was time to reverse my trip.
Returning to the present, I was amazed at how different my life was now. I loved the feeling of the cold air on my exposed parts, and the crunch of the snow under my warm feet. I couldn’t help but smile as I headed toward the city. The lights of the buildings and streets were subdued by a layer of white, and despite the freezing temperature I passed several people working their way along in the early morning darkness. There was a sense of camaraderie about us—“Good Mornings” were a little more enthusiastic than usual, smiles more exaggerated and, perhaps it was the look of joy on my face, but the male attention was enhanced. Twice gentleman responded with “Great now,” to my “Good Morning, how are you.” A third shouted something along the lines of how sexy my boots were.
Yes, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…

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October 26, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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