December is supposed to be the month of joy. That time of the year to defrost your cold heart and stuff it with some laughter
, to put on a Clown’s nose and sing “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”, to end up buried in ribbons while wrapping presents and to fill the home with the aroma of freshly baked cookies and cakes
. In short, it is the season to just bob in the tide of happiness that Christmas brings along with it.
Yet, here I am in a gloomy mood with a set of 207 (I have one extra known as the Torus) very very irritated bones. Nothing seems to cheer me up, not even the sight of tasty food that is not cooked by me for a change. All I want to do is sit and scowl and bury myself in my tribal print blanket. I can’t seem to track back the reason for this miserable state of mind I am in
. All I know is that I am wishing badly for it to snow in Santa Clara which is like kind of asking Johnny Depp to cook a 9 course dinner for me; considering that the last time any Snow was recorded in this place was way back in 1976.
So what do I do? I sit and scowl, wrap myself in the tribal blanket and dig up my desktop for all those snow pictures I took in Boston.
The fun of scribbling your name in the first snow of the season
“Today for show and tell I ‘ve brought a tiny marvel of nature: a single snowflake. I think we might all learn a lesson from how this utterly unique and exquisite crystal.. ..turns into an ordinary boring molecule of water just like every other one when you bring it in the classroom. And now. While the analogy sinks in. I’ll be leaving you drips and going outside.”
- Calvin and Hobbes
* Original Quote by Vladimir Nabokov “Genius is an African who dreams up snow.”