Dreaming of a white Christmas. The snowplow just rumbled by. As soon as I finish a mug of strong coffee and a date-filled oatmeal Christmas cookie, I'll go out and fire-up the Husqvarna to blow and shovel the 4" white blanket that fell over the 15" we already had. It shouldn't be hard. The snow is fluffy and it's a quiet 20 degrees outside. We probably won't see the ground again 'til March. The perennials, bulbs and chipmunks of Oakwood are all tucked in safe and warm beneath the blanket. Or maybe they went to the south coast of Texas to lay in the sun until Spring calls them home.