Snow Day

For most of my life, I looked forward to snow days.  No, that's not true.  I prayed for snow days, I begged for snow days, I tried to will snow days to happen through mental telepathy.  I stopped short of wearing my pajamas inside out, though I'm not sure why.  I no longer have any reason to wish for snow days, but old habits die hard.

When I awoke this morning and did not hear Kathy (who is living here temporarily) in the kitchen packing her lunch, I figured it must be a snow day.  Or more accurately, an ice day.  (Just to be clear, Kathy, a special education teacher, does not wish for snow days.  She would prefer to have the school year end as early in the summer as possible.)  As I soon discovered, navigating outside was purely treacherous, and there was no way to avoid closing the schools.

My venture down to the road to retrieve the morning newspapers was quite a trip.  I recognized immediately that there was no way I could use the paved walk or even set foot in the driveway, so I trudged down the hilly front lawn, jumped over the ditch to the sanded road, and pulled the one paper out of the box.  The other paper resided where it is always tossed, in the middle of the driveway.  I tried several times to place a steady foot on the black ice, only to withdraw it immediately, knowing that another step would put me on my butt.  What to do?  I jumped the ditch again and took a few steps up the snowy grass alongside the driveway, then reached my open umbrella out to the paper and pulled it in.  Another two leaps over the ditch and I was on my way back up the front lawn to the house.

Thus began the snow day.  Turn the heat up, turn the music on, put the chowder in the crockpot, pour a cup of coffee.  It was nice to eat breakfast with Kathy, and extra nice later on in the day when my son (who is still on West Coast time) ventured into the kitchen for his breakfast/lunch.  We are warm, we are nourished, we are busy with our different busyness.  In a couple of hours, we will sit in front of the fire with bowls of corn chowder, tortilla chips, and dark beers.  It's a snow day.

I think of those who live in warmer climates, those who have no idea what a snow day is all about.  I suppose they have hurricane days or tsunami days or tornado days which may or may not be comparable.  As much as I have always loved the unique composition of a snow day, I might be ready to leave them behind, all the more reason to enjoy them while I can.  And to fall in love with one or two more.