Green Christmas

Happy Christmas Eve!

I'm going to be uncharacteristically brief about something that's been a source of abundant worry over the last couple of months, and just say that this may or may not be our final Christmas in Germany. We're hoping it's not, but preparing for the crappier possibility. That said, I bought the tallest and fullest Weihnachtbaum (Christmas tree) that would fit in our living room this year and we decided to only hang ornaments we've picked up on our travels. These are some of my favorites.

Find the pickle!

From what I can recall, we've always had snow on Christmas living in Germany - it's Germany. I'm pretty sure Germany means cold ass winters in some distant dialect. This is the first place I've lived that not only visibly has all four seasons, but brings lots of snow each winter, which is the prettiest thing outside a window when there's no reason to leave the house. (That year in Virginia was just an extended visit, not living.) There have been Christmases in the past few years when we thought we might not have a white Christmas, but awoke Christmas morning to trees coated in white and a fresh blanket of the beautiful stuff laid across the front yard.

I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen this year.

Sure, we had a crazy early first snow of the season before Halloween and everybody was racing to get their winter tires put on their cars and buy salt for the sidewalks, because who's ready for snow in October? Nice one, Mother Nature. Some kind of freakish warmth has since settled in and melted it all away, leaving it almost feeling like a Florida Christmas outside. The trees are winterly bare, but the ground is green and as the forecast is calling for a high of 65º F on the 25th, me thinks it's going to be our first Green Christmas in Germany.

I'm not sure who to blame, but it begins with Murphy's nakedness this holiday season. Let's go back.

Last spring Murphy's curly crazy hair had gotten so matted the groomer had to shave him. Without his adorable curly hair he is a third the size and looks perpetually frightened. Though still adorable, he has the face of a schnauzer and the body of a tiny, baby deer when shaved and we willed his hair to grown back on a daily basis with our amazing mind power. Six months later, we had our fluffy puppy back and we were so happy to see him, we let the hair get super long again. The day I learned that I do not, in fact, know how to properly care for curly long hair on a dog was slightly traumatizing, as the groomer looked at me and said Murphy would need to be shaved again!

"No!"  I cried.

To which the groomer said, "It must be done. Come back in two months and I'll teach you how to properly brush him."

Embarrassed and guilt-ridden, I went straight out and bought him a fluffy new throw blanket to curl up in and a puppy jacket to battle the cold and (eventually) snow. I have to say, he's quite handsome, and without his long mustache and grumpy old man beard, he looks more like a young gentleman with his new cut.

What does this have to do with the odd lack of snow outside? Keep reading.

When I woefully relayed this story to a friend, explaining how terrible I felt about it and what a shame it would be for Murphy's-first-Christmas-with-us pictures, she helpfully suggested we simply call it a Green Christmas where Murphy's nudity would be appropriate. I don't think she realized how powerful a woman she is, and that she may have single handedly kept the snow away this Christmas. So it's her fault.

But then, if I weren't lamenting over Murphy's seasonally inappropriate nudity then she never would have accidentally melted all the snow to make it okay for Murphy (she's a good friend and she loves the Murphster), and the groomer's the one who shaved him, so it's the groomer's fault there's no snow this Christmas.

But then I guess it's not the groomer's fault that I let Murphy's undercoat get matted, even though I  do brush him, I swear! And a lay person wouldn't have even been able to tell there were any mattes most places because the hair is so fine and soft, it just felt a little tangled, nothing shave-worthy. Nonetheless, it had to be done...and it's me who apparently needs to learn how to brush a dog correctly...so I guess it's my fault it's going to be a snowless Christmas. Crap.

But wait! Chris is just as responsible for Murphy as me, so it's his fault, too! Let's just blame him altogether, that makes it simpler.

Thanks a lot, Chris.

             You can hardly tell, right?