We did not get a snow day.
And really? At the private Catholic school where I teach PE, we call them Manna Days, because those snow days fall straight from Heaven and sustain us. They’re nothing short of the bread-like wafers that the Israelites gathered… miraculous and life-giving.
There are no words to express the disappointment I had when I looked outside at 5:15 this morning to five new inches of snow. I know that’s an amount that could shut Dallas down for weeks, but here in our Yankee North, it’s just something to be shoveled out of the way, so the mailman can get through with his two-wheel-drive truck.
So our weathermen were completely wrong, and still they have job security.
Hubs woke the boy up sometime before 6:30 and announced that it was time to go outside with the shovels and the snowblower, to see to the bobsled run that we fondly call our driveway. The boy and his outrageous bedhead mumbled, “So let me get this straight. I have to get up earlier than normal… and I have to do manual labor and shovel this heavy, wet snow off the patio… and I don’t get a day off from school?”
Yeah… I’m pretty sure winter is completely dead to the boy now, too.
But, regardless of the fact that we didn’t get the foot of snow that our local old timers were claiming we’d see, we still got the windchill of MINUS NINE DEGREES. Now, the good news to the spring calves that are starting to sprout up and dot the pastures around here is that it was JUST negative nine with that windchill, when the weathermen with their job security were predicting fifteen to twenty below. However, when you teach in a school, you cannot send the children outside at MINUS NINE, because… well… they’re not cows, and because teachers who have recess duty actually cry at any temperature below thirty degrees that involves wind.
And that led to indoor recess, which is the archenemy of every teacher I know. At one point, our art teacher declared that she had a blender in the art room, because they’d been grinding papyrus into pulp and making paper, and she was pretty sure that after a little soap and water going through it, we could set up a margarita station in the locker room off the gym to balance out indoor recess. Having a gym full of kindergarten through 4th graders running full force and throwing basketballs all over at once, all in the name of GET SOME WIGGLES OUT, BEFORE WE HEAD BACK TO THE CLASSROOM FOR THAT SPELLING TEST, can make a teacher need to just sit down and breathe in and out of a paper sack.
And poor Hubs never gets to snuggle in the comfort of a snow day, but I’ve always told him that it’s his own dadgum fault. When he went to college, he could have majored in education and become a teacher, blessed with summers off and the occasional Manna Day, brought on by the weather. But no. Hubs had to study things like MOTHERBOARDS and DOS PROGRAMMING (because it was the olden days then, people) and TROUBLESHOOTING A COMMODORE 64. He had exactly no sympathy for the boy and me this morning, as we sighed about NO SNOW DAY. He simply put on his coat and announced, “Well, I’m off to fight computer hackers today. There might be gunfire involved. Bruce Willis can play me when they make a movie of my life.”
And THAT, people, is how today panned out.
I came home to more snow in the driveway, because it never matters what time you actually shovel and fire up the snowblower… you’re always going to get JUST A BIT MORE after all the hard work has taken place.
And then we had leftover stew for dinner, because the pot I made last night was geared more for the Duggar clan than a family of four. I daresay that we’ll be eating stew for a while yet, just like we’re apparently going to be dealing with the yuck of winter for a bit yet, too.
Y’all stay warm.