There was no such thing as a predetermined snow day when we were kids.  The siren would go off by 6 or 7am if there was no school.  Pandemonium in feety pajamas would ensue and there was all manner of hooting and jumping on the bed.   Seems to me there was more snow then, seems to me that hot chocolate tasted better on snow days, seems to me that kids and snow go so naturally together.

After eating breakfast, which was an everyday occurrence, of bacon and eggs and juice and vitamins and toasted white bread with strawberry jam we would “suit up”.  And by suit up I mean full on three layers of underwear, turtlenecks, ski pants with the stirrups and the now extinct snow suit for my sister.  The movie Christmas Story illustrates it damn well; no you couldn’t put your arms down…

There was a Flexible Flyer down in the basement next to the upright freezer.  I’m not sure where it came from, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t purchased new, or who the donor was but we grabbed it and out the front door we went.  Right outside our door was “the hill”.  Right outside OUR DOOR…do you understand the magnitude of that?  The police would come and barricade the side streets and we could flexible fly to our hearts content.  Somebody would shovel a narrow strip along the side of the road and bring it down to bare pavement so you could head there to stop and yes it actually sharpened the blades.  And if you were going fast enough it might just spark.  My sister would be in front of me on the sled (arms sticking straight out) and off we would go down the hill.  There were times we could make it all the way to Marcy’s house half a block away.  Walk back up, translation: I walked back up the hill hauling Terri on the sled for the next round.  And we would continue until we were either frozen or hungry.  Warm up, eat, and repeat.

Fast forward to adult snow days and you can pretty much break them out into three categories: delayed opening, work remotely in your fuzzy slippers or full on state of emergency.  I pretty much always skip the delayed opening option because why would I want to get in the way of the plows and salt trucks, battle the “I’m terrified to drive in the snow” crowd (thank you God for being born in February so I could learn to drive in the snow) or rush to clean off my car.  My job is important but I’m not saving the world, as Cookie would say “it’s just cars”, and I can work anywhere (remember when we called it telecommuting?)…thank you modern technology.

So now what does a snow day look like?  Pull something from the freezer first thing in the morning; I’m thinking beef for stew.  Have the first cup of latte after popping the girls out back to play in the snow.  True to form latte also tastes better on snow days.  Set up for work, VPN in and see what’s happening in my email.  Another latte, some breakfast; which doesn’t even remotely resemble the hearty one from days of old.  And get to work.  Another romp in the snow with the girls before lunch, this time with my camera, and then a delicious bowl of soup and grilled cheese for lunch.  Back to work, but the emails dwindle as the snow gets deeper and the people begin to find their way home to the warmth of their families.  For the very first time this year, my sister took a snow day.  She, too, is beginning to believe that it’s “just cars”.  And no bad can come from staying home in your jammies every once in a while.   As the emails dwindle I see the people coming home to Stowe Lane, many of them bringing with them the requisite brown bag and Duraflame log.

Finish what I can from my work day and think about dinner.  As the stew simmers on the stove, I light the fire, open a bottle of Bear Print pinot noir and relax with the girls.

If I had my preference I would rather wake up to the sight of several inches of snow on the ground. I prefer to go out with my camera before everyone else and capture the snow in the morning light.  I also love the pure quiet of newly fallen snow before all the hub bub of the challenge ensues.  Thankfully, the back garden and the enchanted forest provide just enough of a barrier that the only thing I can hear is the sound of the commuter train going through town in the early morning.

At the end of the day the fire will die down and we will be out for a last time before going to bed.  My boots stand ready at the back door and I slip into them easily.  I love the shearling lining so I don’t need any socks. The girls will be just as excited about the snow this last outing as they were this morning.  Toto will come back in with a face full of snow and Lina will be anxious to get her feet cleaned up.  Exhaustion will set in and we will have the best sleep we’ve had in quite some time.  I know like I know that this is the end of a perfect snow day.