I called it at about 6:30 am. THe dog didn’t want to go out and bark at deer. The cats were suddenly remembering that we have a litter box tucked away in the spare bathroom for them. I looked out the window at the falling snow, judged it to be about ten inches and thought I could make this day really easy for myself or I can make it pointlessly difficult. I have a 700 foot driveway, a Prius that–while great on an icy road needs there to be under two inches of the white powder for clearance. We have a borrowed truck because any car payment we would have made goes to the kids’ tuition because we’re afraid of the zombie quality of the local public.
Wednesday is a strange day in my household. I teach but I don’t teach in person on Wednesdays. Usually I head to my office in town after dropping of the children at school in the hamlet across the valley. Depending on what your definitions of work are, I work on Wednesdays-or not. People have a hard time seeing writing as work except that most people don’t do it very well and so that makes majoring in the very language I speak not quite feel as bad as it could.
The kids were a bit manic. Shunned breakfast and went straight outside in snow gear to be one with the snow. snow angels, snowmen, snowballs, snowforts and the inevitable saucer sledding down the driveway–which helped in getting the shoveling started. Eventually I taught them the word frostbite today and told them gnarly stories of having to cut off toes and fingers. Amazingly, they came in at brunch time for Mexican hot chocolate and the first round of snow day movies. Today’s was Fantastic Mr. Fox–which we’ve seen before but NOT ON BLU-RAY. Which is what they say , I say, the husband says whenever one of us wants to watch something that we’ve all seen before. I try not to add that uh hem…all of us wear glasses. Does the definition really matter?
The day is a blur. Soon both arms will be hurting as I once again tried to prove that straight girls can be butch too and do all sorts of shoveling. So there.
Now the kids are in bed. The snow accoutrements scattered in front of the wood stove drying out a bit. The husband looks engrossed in the iPad. I’m thinking he’s reading. I hope he’s reading. I can ‘t quite read on iPads yet. For one, most of my reading takes place in bathtubs. Tonight’s bathtub read? Deerhunting with Jesus –which I highly recommend. One of those books that makes you feel less alone in your alienation and overly rational thought.
It’s still snowing. We’ve been ready for it for months and had global warming winter instead. And now this. But we can only really take one snow day at a time.