I don’t care how deep it gets

I’m half tempted to stay up all night and watch the season’s first snow swaddle the neighborhood. I’m also half tempted to take up the banjo, dye my hair pink, breed miniature donkies and spend Christmas in Mexico. But the chickens have threatened to strike if I bring home any more animals, my passport is missing, I have hobbit fingers and I’m quite fond of my natural color. So instead I’ll crank up the electric blanket and spend a cozy night dreaming of tiny pink donkies serenading me on a white sandy beach across the border.

I trust Mother Nature can do the deed without my supervision. I mean, she did a bang up job last year …