STRANGER THAN FICTION: CHRISTMAS EARMUFFS USEFUL IN BITTER COLD

Considering the area has been coated with snow for nearly a week and there's no thaw in sight, I can only conclude I've done something horribly wrong and the Lord is punishing me.

Why else would He send days and days of cold and ice when this Missourian-turned-Floridian-turned-Missourian has had absolutely NO chance to readapt? I can't even button my five-year-old coat, which just came out of storage. Luckily, the fat reserves stockpiled since the last time I had to button the coat are providing some protection.

The Other Half was elated when the snow came down on Wednesday. He wore a child-like grin as he stared out the window, and he looked so cute I just wanted to walk across the room and slap him silly.

He used to moan and groan about winters in Florida, particularly around Christmas. Sure, folks wrapped white lights around palm trees, and there were Santas in the malls, but seeing a fat, old, bearded man there in anything but a Hawaiian shirt or a thong just seemed weird.

So Mr. Half always got a little sad around Christmas in Florida. He perked up a little last year. The temperature in Fort Lauderdale dropped into the 50s on Christmas night -- a fast-breaking news story covered intensively by the local television stations. They all kicked off their 11 p.m. broadcasts with shots of jacketed Floridians drinking coffee in outdoor cafes, and there was actual steam coming off the coffee!

Mr. Half's mother tried to help her boy with his Florida winter depressions. She gave us earmuffs for Christmas one year -- the kind that wrap around the back of your head so you don't mess up your hair. I was baffled by the gift when I opened it on one 75-degree Christmas Day, but maybe she always knew we were coming home.

Of course, we're getting plenty of use out of those earmuffs now, but my hair still looks awful because of the snow, wind, rain and sleet, plus my complete inability to style it.

The worst part is, there's no end in sight. The weather forecast is exactly the same every day for the rest of the week. Cloudy, windy and "bitter," a relatively new term on the weather forecasting scene that is gaining popularity. It's part of a local television newscast, which uses a keen little graphic to rank the weather as cold, very cold, bitter cold or extremely cold for those who are tactile-challenged.

This weather has turned me somewhat bitter. I routinely turn to Mr. Half and shout, "Well, I HOPE you're SATISFIED!"

At least we don't still live on what I like to call Mount Green Acres. We moved from an apartment on the northeast side of town four years ago. The driveway was at roughly a 70-degree angle, and the apartment manager chose to address the snow situation under the ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away theory. I actually had to climb up the driveway on my HANDS and KNEES one time due to the ice. It was like climbing Everest, although people who do that have food and water and a will to live.

Now, snug in our new apartment on a less steep driveway, Mr. Half dreams of a white Christmas.

Of course, this being Southeast Missouri, the snow will be melted by then.