Snow Day

The weather did a little huffing and puffing this week which gave us the possibility of a snow day. One of the advantages of living in the upper Midwest and being in the field of education is the occasional gift of the unrequested day off. With it comes the anticipatory build up as the weather stations begin squawking away about the impending storm system moving into the region. Advisories, warnings and blizzards are color coded on maps as we try to piece together the puzzle of disaster. When the predicted day of doom arrives, we wait for that all important crawl across the morning TV screen announcing the school closings and late starts.

I must confess that the older I get, the less I long for a snow day. Yes, it is lovely to keep the jammies on a bit longer and read a good book rather than hammer out another day at school. However, my mind just can’t stop doing the math as I calculate the addition of days at the end of the school year. Seasoned teachers know that the fewer days in the last week of school, the fewer “last days” have to be experienced. If we are scheduled to get out on a Tuesday, we will have 2 last days and if we are scheduled to get out on a Thursday, we will have 4 last days. Productivity tends to wane during the final days and adding to the calendar isn’t enough of a carrot for me to fully enjoy our inserted day of freedom during the winter months.

This was not the case for me as I was growing up on the farm. There was nothing sweeter than my Mom announcing to us that we didn’t have to go to school because the radio had just announced the closing of our school for the day. Yippee!! Glee reigned among the children. I’m not sure our mother experienced the same exhilaration. Being cooped up with a house full of rambunctious children certainly would test the fortitude of most parental units.

I remember one year in particular. It seemed as though the snow never stopped coming down.    I don’t remember how many school days were called off, but I know it was enough to go down in regional record books. The snow was piled so high on our little country road that it became a one lane trail. Neighbors and occasional stray cows had to coordinate their travel along the snow packed thoroughfare. It was a great year for sledding down huge piles of snow. We didn’t have fancy saucers or polished sleds. We used aluminum hog watering pans that seemed to fit our little butts as we swirled down the piles of winter’s bounty.  Snow forts, snow huts, snowmen and snowballs kept pre-video game kids rosy cheeked and entertained. Mounds of wet, soggy coats and mittens kept our teachers and mothers longing for spring.

Well, our fair city dodged the blizzard bullet this time around. The rain-slush-sleet mix we received wasn’t enough to keep the busses from rolling. I, for one, was pleased to keep the school calendar intact. One less “last day” at the end of the year is a blessed thing.