Today is a Snow Day

We have two ways to measure the snow at our house. Wayne examines the radar, says something entirely different than what my friends are posting on social media and when the snow is done falling, he eyeballs the total. For my part, I keep an eye on the outdoor dining table for what reason I cannot tell you, as I am terrible at estimating anything to do with length, width or height. Today however, I decided to conduct a test and used my tape measure to confirm eleven inches. I then yelled down the stairs and asked Wayne (who is at work) what he thought, "Uh I don't know. Ten inches maybe?" Ha! it doesn't matter that my guess was seven inches too many as Wayne also missed the mark.

Today is a snow day. During the last snow day I became aggravated when the first thing Wayne did  in the morning was to jump right out there and clear the driveway. To say that Wayne was confused by my reaction is an understatement and truth be told I was just as confused. We are in the middle of social isolation, the least we can do is clear the way to the main road. But I wanted to play and somehow that required the excuse of work to be done.

"Everybody's voice is indeed important, especially those with whom we disagree. But what's more important is that we look for agreement and start our work there. If we do nothing but argue, then the problem is never resolved and or becomes worse. The urgency of this issue requires immediate and sweeping change. Where do you suggest we start?"  That is how I spent our last snow day. I spent the entire day winning on the internet. As Kayden says when I ask for her assistance in these things, "Oi vey- sounds like and exciting Tuesday."

Last night in Vernon, nature answered our unrest with a blanket of white snow. The snow fell silently and steadily while most ate their supper, watched the endless news cycle and drifted off to sleep with dreams of a snow day and praying that there was enough milk for breakfast. Before we awoke, humans were already busy breaking through that blanket with expectations of disrupting the gift of snow. Soon our insulating white blanket will be turned into a grey slushy maze of human unrest. Snow for an adult is a project. 

Light the fire, stay in your pajamas, realize that the tv is just background noise. Watch the Cardinals, skip the cereal and make breakfast. Hear the beeping and scraping of the snowplow rumbling past but follow the beating of your own heart. Pull on wool socks and heavy boots along with your Bernie mittens, top it off with a pom pom and feel the crunch of freshly fallen snow beneath your feet. Pack a round ball and launch it at a loved one or the furrowed bark of an old tree. Take the Nestea Plunge, wave you arms and legs back and forth then try to stand back up without messing it all up. Grab a shovel, show the kids how they live in Alaska. Find a hill, create an otter slide, take the jump, wipe out, do it in a train! Search the fridge for a carrot, jump off the railing, make jokes about yellow snow. "Did you know that when you eat icicles you're really eating bird poop that's melting from the roof?"  Walk into the quiet woods, feel snowflakes on your eyelashes, breath deeply let it out watch your breath drift away. Go home, stomp your feet, eat warm soup and drink hot chocolate. Pick up a book or crayons and paper...write your own story. Today is a snow day in Vernon, VT - Norma Manning