Dear Mother Nature.
Those people singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" don't mean it. Honest. At least here they don't.
This is the Southern Hemisphere. Christmas means 40C and sweating over Christmas Lunch and scanning the sky for smoke, and the joy of icy cold drinks, and playing cricket in the back yard, and Dad's zinc-creamed nose, and the cicadas so loud you can't hear the bloody Messiah playing again.
It doesn't mean snow.
I know you're only aiming for the mountains to our east. That's still too close.
Stop it.
Send it north. I have friends in the UK and USA who would love it. Really.
No love,
Rey.
This is the Southern Hemisphere. Christmas means 40C and sweating over Christmas Lunch and scanning the sky for smoke, and the joy of icy cold drinks, and playing cricket in the back yard, and Dad's zinc-creamed nose, and the cicadas so loud you can't hear the bloody Messiah playing again.
It doesn't mean snow.
I know you're only aiming for the mountains to our east. That's still too close.
Stop it.
Send it north. I have friends in the UK and USA who would love it. Really.
No love,
Rey.
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Please send us the snow. WE WANT IT!
*--Kennebec River in our town crested 1.7 meters above flood stage. If you recall your visit here, that isn't very much--just enough to submerge half of downtown's parking area and get a lot of basements wet. However a few businesses in the next town downriver were completely submerged, including a popular night spot that is poorly named (The Warf). They go underwater so often, they should probably just call it the Sunken Boat or something.
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I'd actually hate 40 °C. The hottest I've ever experienced is about 35, and that was too much really.
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I figure if you can just send one square mile of snow that's one inch deep, and pile it all up, you'll be able to entomb him deep enough that he'll starve before it melts enough for him to escape.
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Honestly, I could go for the zinc sunblock, cricket, and the occasion smoke distress. Maybe my father is right. I should go live in Australia.
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