My Dear Dead Relatives,
Why, oh why did you ever choose to settle in Michigan? Why did you select this region of unreliable summers, and predictably drawn-out winters?
Was it because the climate was similar to that of your Mother Country, or because the Great Lakes reminded you of the North Sea, or because you simply stopped at the first major body of water you came to?
Or maybe you sensed that this giant dirt-mitten would be a good seeding ground for your particularly puritanical sensitivities.
Whatever the reason, you obviously didn’t consider your 21st century descendants, who would have to suffer through the cold without the benefit of shortened work days and a modest Christmas.
You didn’t think of the fact that we wouldn’t enjoy Kerstmis at leisure, but that it would be squeezed into an already burdened schedule and under piles of snow.
We Euro-muts have to tolerate this time of year – not because of the cold, but because of the complete reversal of seasonal habit. Rather than slowing down, sleeping more, and spending easy time with our loved ones, we must work eight hour days in chilly offices, drive several miles on slushy roads to and from said offices, and run ourselves ragged to keep up appearances in a chaotic holiday extravaganza.
And you, smiling down on us, because the winter scene just looks so pretty and peaceful.
And me, cursing the snow and longing for the days when I’ll be cursing the sun.
But, I’m not going to stress. I did once, and all I got out of it was some Christmas radiation from the CT machine. Apparently stress feels like a brain tumor. Good to know.
In 6 months, I promise to thank you for freshwater beaches, piney woods, and a significant lack of hurricanes.
PS-> The CT scan was 2 years ago today, and really was perfectly normal. Thanks for the brain genes.