The Eighteen Days of Christmas

2015-12-01 13.06.10

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me – S***

Snowman

It’s a four letter word. S-N-O-W. Some love it…some hate it. But for a lot of us, we know it’s going to come, whether we want it or not.

Asher Rye believes in all forms of Christmas magic. Twinkling lights. Santa Claus. Tinsel covered Christmas trees. And snow. What is more magical than a quiet night when the snow starts to gently fall? Those big fluffy “Hollywood” snowflakes that stick to your lashes or melt on your tongue. True there may only be one or two nights like that a year, but for Asher, he’ll take the magic where he can find it.

SnowHouse

I have a theory about snow. Unless you are a snow bunny or Olympic skier, there is a finite window in which snow is fun. From the time you learn to walk until you are about four, snow sucks. Little tiny legs and big poofy snowsuits are no match to even a few inches of snow. I have memories of being around three and not being able to make it more than a few feet before I’d face plant into the cold ground. Then around four, you gain your balance, learn to make snow forts, and how to arm those forts with snowballs. It’s during this time that snow is golden. And winter remains a season of non-stop fun until you are old enough to be dragged outside to help with clearing the driveway…let’s say twelve or thirteen (this is when you can actually do the job properly and not just make snow piles with your little plastic shovel). After that, snow is done. There might be a throwback to your younger years now and again, but reality is brought sharply back to life when that snowball that was thrown at you goes right down your back. Yep…done.

However, there is a very short period, once a year, that snow is almost tolerable. From the middle of November (or after Thanksgiving for those in the U.S.) until December twenty-fifth, snow is allowed. It’s even encouraged if the conditions are right. To me nothing gets my Christmas spirit glowing than just the right amount of snow. Not enough to make the roads a mess or sidewalks a slush nightmare, but enough to make it a winter wonderland. Then on December twenty-sixth, it has to all go away. Seriously, it was just a Christmas prop. Once the turkey leftovers have disappeared from the fridge, so should the snow.

I live in Canada. I can dream.

Until tomorrow all!

Saxon

Candy Canes & Coffee Beans can be pre-ordered at All Romance eBooks by clicking HERE

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