The Eve

Oh Christmas Eve. That glorious time. Driveways full of fluffy white snow.... Carolers bundled up from nose to toe, boiling milk on the stove for children coming in from sledding. Turkey... stuff... like...

I don't know what I'm talking about really. I've lived in Utah my whole life, and I've never experienced a white Christmas. My Christmas is plagued by glorious sunlight, the wind rushing through your hair on a bike ride down the glistening canal, all the Mexican food you could eat...

That's mostly Christmas to me. It's a bit backwards. But I love this type of Christmas. Warm. And stuff. 

Let's see.... so we always go on bike rides. We always have Mexican food. Sometimes it rains, but not usually. It's really funny to see the natives to AZ walking around bundled in coats. 

Because it 80 degrees outside.

And it's freezing.

To them.

Other than these things, Christmas is pretty normal. We have a family party, we're not allowed to open presents until my dad is ready with the camera, we have neat breakfast food, Santa would come by when we were little, and uncles and aunts cut each other's throats to win the best present in the white elephant gift exchange.

And such is Christmas.

And such is me. 

That doesn't make sense. But it sounded nice.