I got this email from Grannie and thought it was fitting.
When it's Christmas in Colorado,
And the gentle breezes blow,
About seventy miles an hour
And its fifty-two below,
You can tell you're in Colorado
'Cause the snow's up to your butt.
You take a breath of Christmas air
And your nostrils both freeze shut.
The weather here is wonderful,
So I guess I'll hang around,
I could never leave Colorado--
My feet are frozen to the ground!
The family on top of Mount Evans
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2 comments:
hehehe, nothing gentle about those December Colorado breezes. At least your Christmas will be white. Ours is just freezing. Last night got down to -8 C. Brrrrrrr!
I love that poem. Thanks for posting it.
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