Another Snow Day

I live in New England and have for most of my life.  It snows here.  I’ve always known it snows here so I try not to complain about it but this is getting ridiculous.  I can’t even get to my day job safely and on time although today I didn’t try as hard as I probably could.  I hate burning through another vacation day but spending an hour pr more to dig my car out to then drive for probably more than 30 minutes to a job that is five miles away just doesn’t seem appealing.  I wouldn’t mind if I knew I wouldn’t spend the day then worrying about digging my car out of the work parking lot only to drive another 30 minutes home and quite possibly not be able to get up the hill I live on and into my driveway.  Even now as I sit here comfortably at my computer with a cup of coffee in hand I worry and  wonder where I am going to put the snow that is now covering my car.  I live in a tight neighborhood littered with snowbanks higher that I stand.  Alas, it’s New England, a place where it snows.

When I was a kid, I loved a good snow day.  I’d suit up in my snow pants and snorkel jacket and head out side.  I’d do my share of shoveling but then it was all play time. We had a little hill in the yard where every year my sister, brother and I would don our K-Tel skis and usually spend more time falling that skiing.  We’d sled down the deck stairs after that then build a snowman in the front yard for all to see.  By the time we heading in the house we were frozen to the bone and soaked with snow.  We’d strip down and throw all the clothes in the dryer.  Once in fresh dry clothes, my mom would make hot chocolate with a little Cool Whip on top while we whittled away the afternoon laying on the floor and watching cartoons.  Snow days were good days.

Snows days as an adult are different.  I no longer have K-Tel skis or even a sled.  I have a shovel and rather than playing in the white wondrous substance, I move it.   I brush it off my car and put it in piles, big piles this year.  I don’t mind shoveling I see it as part of New England living.  It’s not as glorious as a colorful fall day or as welcoming as the smell of daffodils popping through the ground in the early spring but it is as defining.   So as I sit here finishing this entry and my cup of coffee, I am tempted to spend the day on the sofa with some hot chocolate and a favorite movie rather than rushing out to shovel and head off to work.  The practical side of me probably won’t let that happen but maybe after I shovel I will at least build that snowman.

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This entry was posted in Happiness, Life, Shoveling, Snow Day, Snowman. Bookmark the permalink.

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