the anatomy of a snow day

At 5:45 this morning I peered out my front window. In the light of the street lamp, I could just barely make out the house across the street through the thick sheets of horizontally-blowing snow.

We postponed our run for a time in the day when there would be less snow blowing and more visibility.

I curled up on the couch to watch the news, which this morning, was all weather. Over one hundred school closings in the area, with many of the one- and two-hour delays surrendering as the morning wore on.

The neighbor called. Neither of the cars would start. Could he borrow the battery charger?

The snow continues to fall as the kids, one by one, slide down the stairs to wonder where their wake-up call went.

“It’s a snow day,” I tell them.

“YES!” is the collective response.

As the day wears on, I enlist the kids with various chores to stave off boredom (ha HA!); I attack the kitchen with a particular vim not seen in these parts for lo a few months.

Big J decides, once he’s trekked up and down the stairs a few times putting away laundry, that he will twine his ankles together for the rest of the day, to experience the life of a person with fused legs. Thud thud thud thud…he makes his way to the kitchen. Thud thud thud thud…back to the living room to watch a Harry Potter movie.

At one point I venture into the office where little J has commandeered my machine to watch Nemo, and H is on B’s machine with three IM windows open.

B is busy running wire in the upstairs remodel, which for some reason requires me to spend a good deal of time in the basement pulling a thing called a fish wire through the walls of the house for him. During the lunch break, B says to the kids, “Quit putting stuff in the trash. It’s getting full, and then someone will actually have to go outside in this mess.”

And then D and I trip out for a quick three miler. I wrap my feet in Wegman’s bags before I put on my running shoes so they would not get soaking wet. We combat the windchill by actually wearing our winter coats to run in, which we realize after the first mile was completely unnecessary (our bodies are plenty efficient in making heat). Our ears and faces, however, remain cold throughout the whole ordeal.

Now I’m going to continue to do laundry, grade papers, and wonder how an average citizen like myself will take responsibility for slowing the warming. If you missed Charlie Rose’s interview with Michael Oppenheimer (Feb 2), I suggest you check it out. He is optimistic; he says that things will slow down (not turn around, mind) because “…humans are not that heedless.”

I feel heedless as I run my dryer today. :/

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One thought on “the anatomy of a snow day

  1. I was getting ready to congratulate you on the good sense not to run today, and then I got to the end of your post! Dude. You are dedicated. As he walked from his car to his office today, BP’s beard froze. He said he was afraid to touch it, for fear it would break off. Aren’t you glad you don’t have a beard?

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