Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Over the River and Through the Wood ...

    To Grandmother’s house we go,
    The horse knows the way

    To carry the sleigh,
    Through the white and drifted snow.
    Oh!

    Everyone's singing along, right? Right! We all know this song!

    But seriously, who in the world goes to their grandmother's house in a horse-drawn sleigh?

    When my brothers and I were young and first heard the "Over the River" song, we wondered why the words didn’t mention the part where we drove through that long, dark tunnel under the airport. So we made up our own lyrics.

    Hop on the freeway
    And drive through the tunnel
    To grandmother's house we go,
    Dad knows the way
    In our Chevrolet,
    And into the city we go.
    Oh!

    Yes, that's more like it!

    And snow? We didn't know anyone who drove through snow. No comprende! We grew up in Southern California, near the beach. I didn’t see snow until I was … well, much older.

    My dear husband, who grew up in Buffalo, New York, still teases me about the first time I saw snow falling. It was my first trip to his hometown and looking out the airplane window, I saw all this sparkly, shiny, colorful fairy dust flying in the air. It was beautiful! I asked him what it was, and he laughed and said, "That's snow." ("You idiot." No, he didn't add that part, but believe me, it was clearly implied in his tone.) I insisted that what we were looking at couldn't be snow. "No, it's too sparkly. It looks like fairy dust to me," I said.

    You'll all be happy to know that I successfully repressed the memory of his response.

    So ... Where are you going for the holiday? How are you getting there? Will there be snow?


    Happy Thanksgiving to you all!!
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