‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a raindrop was falling not even snow in Taos. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that the forecast would change either here or there. High clouds for possible sunrise and sunset enhancement, warm temperatures too running rampant. Sugar plums dancing in my head, with lows in the 40s when I get out of bed. And what to my wandering eyes should appear? A slight chance of rain by next weekend but south of here. I suppose I should exclaim as I wrap up this rhyme, Merry Christmas to all! and have a great time!