The book is always better
Snow fell yesterday and today in Salt Lake City, and outside feels more like January than November. I took the dog on a long walk tonight, and I'm already yearning for spring. Rather than write about warmer seasons, I'll tell a wintertime story that doesn't have anything to do with winter other than it occurred in December. In 1980, Mom, my sisters and I, along with some neighbors, attended a kids' Christmas party thrown by a women's or seniors' group in our Oriole Park neighborhood. The event was held at the Oriole Park field house in the gym, and for a 10-year-old who didn't believe in Santa anymore, it was boring. A middle-aged (at least) woman dressed up as a boy from the 1930s and sang "I'm Getting Nothin' for Christmas." Santa made an appearance. All the kids got books for presents. For my age group and gender, I received The Treasure of Alpheus Winterborn by John Bellairs. It was a mystery about a kid who stumbles into puzzle left ...