You readers up North will have to forgive our general reaction to snow. Yes, it’s pathetic that we don’t know how to drive in it. I had to turn around on my way to work in the midst of a flurry, because even if I was able to keep my car on the road, I wasn’t too sure that other people could. Plus, nobody knows what to do about icy bridges ’round here. Except skid off of them.

As for a snowman, this here is as about as close as we come. It has leaves and sticks poking out of it because there was only a half-inch of snow on the ground, and this is what it looks like when you start rolling it up. And there was the snow angel Girl made, which looked a lot like a mud puddle.

Still, this was the whitest (almost) Christmas we’ve had in quite a while. It’ll be another four years til we see another one.

We didn’t recognize the address on the envelope and there was no name on the return address. The Christmas card, our first of the season, turned out to be from an old friend. Last year in his Christmas newsletter, he wrote about the cruise he had taken with his whole family. I was envious of him — in his vacation photo, standing there among his grown children and cute grandchildren, he looked as if he had gotten everything he ever wanted.

This year there were no photos on his newsletter. First he explained the new address — he had lost his job, and he and his wife were now living up north with grandma, essentially moving back home at age 60. His wife had gotten a job at Walmart, and he was trying to become a substitute teacher. He joked about being reverse snowbirds — the only folks his age moving north instead of south. The main thing for him was hanging on to some kind of insurance, he said. Both he and his wife had battled cancer this year.

So there in the first Christmas card of the season was the story of the Great Recession. God bless you, my friend. May 2010 be much kinder.

Every day when I get on the bus, I send out evil vibes to everyone walking down the middle aisle so that I can sit by myself. Despite my subtly hostile disposition, the fat guy with the big black briefcase invariably parks his butt right next to mine, sloshing over to my side of the seat at every turn.

A similar occurance happens whenever I sit down at night to finally watch TV. There is nothing in my posture that suggests servitude; however, as soon as my butt touches the chair, one or both of my children say, “Mama, can I have some…”

And then there’s work. There’s nothing in my resume, posture or disposition to suggest that I would be the best person in the company to head up the office Christmas party. And yet, Ho Ho Ho.

So I’m thinking that there must be a sign on my forehead, visible to everyone but me. I wonder, does this sign flash different messages all day long like, “SIT BY ME” or “AT YOUR SERVICE” or “OOOH, PICK ME”?

Or does it just say one thing — “SUCKER”?

A giant Veterans Day parade passes by my building in downtown Houston. Last year, I caught it as my friend and I were walking back from one of our regular lunch haunts. We stood on the sidewalk and watched row after row of high school kids in ROTC uniforms march by, shouting cadences in teenage tough voices. My friend and I both started to cry, thinking about the innocents going off to war.

This year the parade passed by again, and I pulled my friend down the elevator with me to watch it. Both of us were leery; neither of us wanted to cry again. And for some reason, we didn’t. Maybe because we had both steeled ourselves – last year, the parade took us by surprise. This year we were prepared for what we would see.

But maybe it’s more than that. Last year I thought, those kids don’t know what they’re in for. But as I read about the soldiers who died last week at Fort Hood, especially the youngest ones, I have reconsidered. Yes, those kids do know what they’re in for, and they’re going to volunteer anyway.

At the memorial service at Fort Hood yesterday, President Obama said of our armed forces, “We need not look to the past for greatness, because it is before our very eyes.”

I saw it in those children today, before my very eyes.