But as would be the case with most places we move to, thinking we've escaped the worst bites of winter, winter follows us. We moved to Halifax in 1988 - it was bitterly cold - one of the worst winters on record. We moved to Pakistan a decade later and both winters, we got unseasonably cold weather, as in seriously, wear fleece, crank the heat up and shiver me timbers cold weather. Just prior to Pakistan, when I moved to Victoria for the birth of our son, we were snowed under in the worst blizzard ever for weeks.
So while I miss the so-called timeliness of these excited outbursts, alas, I'll admit - we still get them. Winter has followed us once again: it has snowed here every winter since moving here. We now live up on a mountain, or so the locals dub this them thar hill we're perched upon...so we get snow where others might not.
But for it to snow, like clockwork white, on December 1st, the first day of Advent in the Schmidt house, when six chocolate and/or toy-filled calendars (three each this year) vie to be the first window ripped open or pocket peeked in ~ that is simply and seasonally divine.
Yes, that's right kiddies - we woke up to a blanket of white this morning. Not quite skiing or tobaganning white, but if it's snowing here, it's dumping in the mountains.
This is timely because we will be setting up our newly-arrived, beaut and Noble 8 ft. Christmas tree in our vaulted living room tonight. We'll be lighting a fire, drinking some Merlot, listening to Holy Son play Good King Wenceslas on the cello, and lifting little Miss Wonder-filled up so she can dangle ornaments from the highest boughs.
And we'll be praying that we don't get the weeklong power outage we got this time last year during the wind storms. We managed to set the tree up but had to decorate it in the dark and weren't able to enjoy the lights until 8 days later.
On that note, I'm off to a snowflake workshop to make Christmas ornaments with Holy Daughter.
Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?