I'm (not) dreaming of a white (out) Christmas.

I remember when I was 8 or so - it was the first time anybody had brought to my attention the song "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas." It was Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's farm and everyone would look out onto the lawn and witness the scant covering of dusty white snow and say "At least we have a white Christmas."

And here is where I diverge from most Nebraskans. I probably should be a Floridian. Or a New Mexican. I do not dream of a white Christmas and despite living in Colorado with its bounteous snow, I'm not a big fan of it.

That said, that's what we've got kids. Not just a white Christmas, a white-out Christmas -- a full on blizzard. We're hunkered down at Mom's wondering what we forgot at the store and why anyone thought "Geez, with its tropical summers and sub-zero blizzarding winters, Nebraska is a great place to settle."

Still, my friend Kim was right in that I was being melodramatic in saying the storm was stealing Christmas. It's not. It's changing Christmas certainly. . . but we're still here and still celebrating.