I had been dreaming of a White Christmas and I got it. For a minute.
Hail covering the lawn.
A cape buffalo in my Christmas tree looks out on the snowy field. Wha what?
I could make a snowball with that! I could.
I can practically hear Dean Martin singing, "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"
See that branch down on the path? Yep. Storm damage.
The birds have abandoned their feeders for higher ground.
If it happens again, I am making a teeny weeny snowman with it.
A white Christmas in Africa? This is what I call White Mischief.
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