I found evidence of Santa, Hat and boots pegged in the snow. Santa had collided with a snowdrift. Where he went, I really do not know.

I found horns pegged in an ice ball. I even found some clumps of hair.

Poor old Rudolph didn’t make it. If I dug, I’m sure I’d find him there. 

By the scene were some wilted roses, a little note that said, “My Myrna Dear.”

Criminy! I won’t miss all the Hoopla, but I’ll miss all those roses this year.

A stroke of luck I found the packet, Holding all my HCG diet stuff

At least I’ll be thin for Christmas, And I know Santa Claus will make a fuss.

Girls! Don’t expect a gift from Santa like you did those years ago.

All your diamonds, furs and roses are buried deep within the Glendale snow.