Correspondence Between Two Distinct (well, kinda) Lands

On November 25th, Sir Henry Livingston wrote to Martinology the following request: "Excuse me, kind sirs, I am penning this letter from Antarctica, the land of endless winter, where the flakes of snow never cease. My ancestors, the pilgrims, arrived on your lands with tales of deep yellow and red autumn leaves, fields of pumpkins, and corn stalks dotting the landscape, wild turkeys skipping across roads and fields during this season of yours. Would you be kind enough to post glimpses of the delightful descriptions that my ancestors left behind to us of your so-called Thanksgiving holiday! Thank you, so very much!"

On November 25th, Martinology wrote to Sir Henry Livingston the following sentence: "Here you go buddy, we're over here dreaming of a white Thanksgiving. How's the skiing in Antarctica? Not bad over here. Some friends gave us a broken snow-blower yesterday that we can keep if we get it running. Last night we slid into a ditch, wrecker pulled us out, and now the car is parked just fine in our garage. Baby Elijah is going great, touched snow yesterday for the first time and cried. He cried, ok? HE CRIED! And I'm cr...(sniff) WHY do we have to get snow blizzards in NOVEMBER! WHY?! Well, enjoy the pictures of our front and back yards. Have a Merry Thanksgiving."

The Faces of A Moment