…another snowstorm. True to the phrase, “Everyone always talks about the weather, but nobody ever does anything about it,” we here in DE are bracing for another 8-12 inches (more? less? who knows!) of snow. Bread aisle shelves are emptying. Killer icicles are forming. Businesses are shoveling off their roofs at a furious pace.
In fact, as I drove yesterday I even saw a man shoveling off his porch roof; clever boy had a rope tied to his waist in case, I presume, of slippage. Not sure what I would tie the other end to (a doorknob? a mahogany bedframe? barbells?), but from the street the guy looked like he knew what he was doing.
Needless to say, we’ve got the whole gang home today. School is closed. Craig’s office is even closed. We’ve got plenty of milk for cocoa, a couple of movies saved up, and a brand new board game that, after three aborted attempts, we just figured out how to play yesterday. Oh, and we’ve got Girl Scout cookies—lots and lots of Girl Scout cookies. And yes, if you’ve already ordered with us, you’ll have ample opportunity to reorder in case your original order is “misplaced” during the storm.
Surprisingly, this latest round of white stuff is not accompanied by the usual thrill and anticipation. If anything, the family seems to be getting a little tired of it. Hayley, for one, said that she wants to be able to walk on the green, green grass, instead of trudging up to her knees in snow. Craig, while on the eve of a day off, seemed actually to be a little down last night. I, on the other hand, am so excited that I can hardly contain myself.
Maybe it’s my slightly northerly origins. Maybe it’s great memories of tobogganing with my Dad. Maybe it’s just my freakish never-too-much-of-a-good-thing attitude. We’re all set for the snow, and I am psyched up. I love the excuse to hunker down, read books, bake cookies, watch the snowfall, and listen to the stillness and silence that almost never happens. I enjoy the change of scenery—not a change from last week, I know, but a change from the usual. I love thinking about the phenomenon of snow—how can so many tiny flakes add up to so darn much? It’s kind of amazing, don’t you think?
I’m thinking that whatever your snow-titude, you’ll be better off making peace with it, because this side of high tech weather manipulation, there just isn’t much you can do about it. Instead of bugging the kids about wearing their coats while they’re sledding, let ’em strip down, then slide down with ’em. Instead of standing in front of the truck that’s about to plow in the end of your driveway, give the poor driver a cup of cocoa. Instead of gunning to get back to work at the office, in the driveway, at the taxes, or in the basement, take a barefoot polar bear run across the lawn.
And instead of taking a shower when you’re finished shoveling, take a bath. Go ahead, drop a couple of snowballs in the water with you. You know you want to.