My Secret Obsession

I realize that as soon as I post this, my secret obsessions will no longer be a secret and I'm okay with that.

Ever since I was a little girl I've had an obsession with snow. Being born in the Southwest I have very little experience with the stuff and my one childhood snowman had a furry grass coat because we had to literally scrape the ground of three yards to get enough snow to make him amount to much. But I heard that there was snow in the North. I heard it so much that every summer when we headed that way I looked for it. One year for my birthday, which is at the end of July, my Grandma asked me what my birthday wish was. I told her I wanted to see "the snow." She pointed to the mountains north of her farm and said, "See those white peeks? That's as good as it gets in July." I was in heaven.

Ever since I was a little girl I've also had an obsession with sleigh bells. I just know that Santa is real and I'll know he's coming because I'll hear his sleigh bells in the distance. Unfortunately, lots of things sound like sleigh bells. Someone gently scraping the remains of fried egg off of a pan on a hot August morning in Texas sounds a bit like sleigh bells. The refrigerator gearing up for it's soft evening hum the day after Christmas in Idaho also sounds like sleigh bells. Don't be fooled. Someone crumbling cellophane in the kitchen while you're napping in the living room on a fine Spring afternoon is not sleigh bells. I know. I've checked.