One Christmas my former brother-in-law gave me a musical snow globe as a gift. My then husband and I traveled on to spend the holidazed in Vermont with the snow globe in the trunk. During the silent night the water froze and the globe burst. Go figure. There was snow on the ground. It did get into single digits.
Another Christmas my mom and dad gave me a musical snow globe that turned as caroles played. The mechanism malfunctioned. Now I just turn it around in my hands and hum the tunes.
One Christmas the mother of a sweetheart gave me a snow globe that played a loon's cry while snow fell over the deep woods. The mother has passed on and the sweetheart is gone.
Then I see a sign in airports: no snow globes! I wonder if they mean me. No, Homeland Security feels that snow globes can make life difficult for other folks besides me. Who knew.
With this track record you'd think I'd give up on snow globes. Not a chance. Here's one I pick up and shake this time every year. Click here.
It won't break. It keeps playing. And it reminds me of a night in Crystal City when my flight was cancelled after long days of focus group research and the man of my dreams drove a red Miata through the softly falling snow to eat burgers on the bed before I flew in the wee small hours of the winter morning back to relentlessly sunny Southern California.
See why snow globes make me happy?
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