I have a request for some snow. Here, in suburban New York, we’ve had only a dusting or two, but now it looks like it is coming.
Don’t get me wrong. I am no big fan of the white stuff as it was never part of my Texas heritage. After I moved North, I initially saw its charm but now, after too many difficult winters, it has lost its appeal. Beyond the Currier and Ives look of the first flakes, I see shoveling, black sludge building up in the street, and icy patches tempting falls. But you can’t have a snow day without precipitation so, please, before it is too late this year, can we just have one day with 4,5…even 6 inches?
The urgency in my desire comes from knowing that we have just two more winters when our daughter will be at home. She’s sixteen and busy with school, sports, friends. Out the door at 7AM, she is gone all day until she trudges up the hill from the bus stop, exhausted and starving.
I feed her a mini-meal after which she hauls her back pack and sports bag up to her room. After dinner together, she returns to homework (or video chatting) until bedtime. Except for a few variations, each school day seems like an exact copy of this one, for nine long months.
The intensity of her life makes me wish for a day off for two reasons. First, nothing brings out little-kid joy in even the surliest or most thinks-she’s-grown-up-teen than those magic words “snow day.” Second, snow stops the clock and gives us time at home together. I’m happy, the dog is ecstatic. After she goes to college, there will be no more early morning phone calls from her school announcing the day off. The very concept of snow days expires come graduation day – a mere two and a half years from now.
When we get just enough white stuff to trigger those calls I’ll be appreciative. I’m imagining it now – pancakes at noon, maybe build a fire and watch some TV together while the snow accumulates, creating our own private snow globe, protected for a day from the hectic reality of life.