On Snow and Christmas in Kansas
Something terrible happened. It was abnormal, unnatural, and unacceptable. For a lot of people it probably wouldn’t have been something to blink at or even notice, but for me, it was something I may never recover from. It has affected me deeply, scarring me, turning all surrounding events dark, making me want to flee the area.
There was no snow on Christmas. To Southerners and West Coasters, apparently this is normal. I even know someone who claims to have never had a white Christmas (I’m still trying to wrap my head around that one). But when you’ve lived exclusively in New England (aka home of nor’easterns) and Wisconsin (aka the North Pole), Christmases are obviously incredibly snowy, and are expected to be.
The song “White Christmas” always confused me. What did they mean, dreaming of white Christmases like they “used to know”? Why wouldn’t they still know them? Did they move somewhere silly like Florida or Hawaii where they don’t get snow? But why would they do that, since it would mean no snow on Christmas? Nobody but my uncle would do that. That’s just weird. Crazy talk.
Granted, the past few Christmases in Wisconsin were warm and foggy from the evaporating snow, but we’d had enough blizzards beforehand that the ground was still covered even with the melting and evaporating. There was one traumatizing year in New Hampshire when something strange happened and it didn’t snow the day after Thanksgiving, or any day after that, and so on Christmas I woke up to the beautiful sight of dead grass. But that afternoon we got three feet, so we were saved. Besides that single close call, I’ve never been threatened with a non-white Christmas.
Until this year.
Apparently Kansas didn’t get the memo that if a place can have snow, it is required to have it for Christmas, for obvious reasons. Instead it decided to be mean and snow the week before Christmas and then completely melt it 24 hours later and continue increasing the temperature until two days after Christmas, when it dropped them again. This resulted in a balmy 56 degrees for Christmas, with grass that was stupid green, and constant forgetting that it was Christmas. I refused to go outside and offend my senses with the ridiculous temperatures. I probably would have had some kind of mental collapse if I had. (This is, of course, further proof that Kansas is in the south).
Thankfully the Christmas season doesn’t end until Epiphany, which isn’t until January 6 (yes yes they move the celebration to the closest Sunday, but it’s officially the 6th). This means Kansas still has ten days to redeem itself. Technically this is cheating, but I’m desperate. I refuse to have a non-white Christmas, even if it means extending the deadline.
Clearly I have to move back north again.