Don’t you wish you could walk down this magical, golden street, browsing shops for the perfect armload of Christmas gifts and memories? A young woman I once hosted for a week as an exchange student sent the card from Switzerland: “As I’m writing this postcard, it’s snowing outside in Zurich…”
It doesn’t snow outside where I live, but every Christmas Eve a couple residents from my town drive into the mountains with a pickup truck to haul down enough snow to build a town snowman. One. He’s our Frosty and our Winter Wonderland. He’s cold toes and nipped noses — and a good excuse to wear mittens so we can rub his icy belly.
And, oh how we love seeing him appear every year.