The Snow is Not My Fault
Really. Although my family teases me that it is! When I was in junior college, I cut out a bunch of paper snowflakes, inspired by my Dover copy of W. A. Bentley's "Snow Crystals". (This is a beautiful book, beloved by tatters who find inspiration in its pages.)
I carefully white-glued them to thread and hung them in the archway between my parent's living and dining rooms. Soon after I did this, it started to snow and snow and snow. We had snow, lots of snow, for weeks, and my dad claimed it was my fault, for making those "voodoo snowflakes".
So when we don't get snow, they tell me "Hang those things up, we want a white Christmas!" And when we do get snow, they call me up and say, "What did you do, re-charge the voodoo snowflakes?!?"
We talked once about making them to sell, like maybe on eBay. But would it be safe to have them hanging up all over the country? :)
I have a small pair of those Chinese scissors, the black ones, with sharp little points, for cutting nice "snowy" snowflakes. Once in a while I get an urge to snip some more. Last year I gave a string or two to my brother, who hung them where they fluttered in the slight air movement from his computer fan. We got lots of snow then. This year I have not hung them up. They are sitting in the "Snow Crystals" book. And we are getting a nice white December, which we haven't had for years. But it's not my fault! I barely even touched the voodoo snowflakes!