I was out walking with Woody last night thinking about the odd combination of 60-degree temperatures and Christmas decorations. My first winter on the west coast, I must confess the lack of shitty weather feels a bit strange.
Hill upon hill, we made our way through the neighborhood. A few blocks over, high atop one of the cement slopes, I spotted Rudolph on a massive big screen TV just a few houses below our scenic vantage point. His nose was glowing.
The original holiday special from my youth, I rushed home with the dog in tow. A few minutes later I was basking in the warm glow of holiday-TV-special memories—momentarily distracted from the extremely warm temperatures outside.