Post by Stephanie on Nov 21, 2008 21:47:19 GMT
Many years ago, back in the Communist Russia era, in fact, my husband and I were visiting our dear friend Rudolph in Moscow for Christmas. The three of us had just finished dinner at a quaint little restaurant and stepped out into a full-scale, driving blizzard - snowflakes the size of hubcaps had piled up three feet deep in the short time we had been inside.
"Always, it rains like this in Russia for Christmas visitors," grumbled Rudolph as he led the way to the bus stop.
"Rain? We come from the rain capital of Canada! This isn't rain!" I muttered to my husband.
Rudolph must have overheard me because he said, "No, I assure you, this is rain! I am renowned meteorologist with Radio Moscow and always it rains like this for Christmas in Moscow!"
I was about to protest again, when my husband quietly said,
"Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear."
"Always, it rains like this in Russia for Christmas visitors," grumbled Rudolph as he led the way to the bus stop.
"Rain? We come from the rain capital of Canada! This isn't rain!" I muttered to my husband.
Rudolph must have overheard me because he said, "No, I assure you, this is rain! I am renowned meteorologist with Radio Moscow and always it rains like this for Christmas in Moscow!"
I was about to protest again, when my husband quietly said,
"Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear."
