‘Is it a Snow Day if there is nothing to cancel?’
Gosh. It’s already after 4pm on Tuesday. And it’s either write this post or go clean grout. So sue me if it’s not up there with “The Time I Had a Blind Date with an Eye Doctor,” “Sex is Like Santa,” or even “Radio Days.”
Here goes.
When I was a freshman in college, my Middle Younger Brother gave me a record album for Christmas. It was Moondance by Van Morrison. It was the coolest album I owned. Also the only album I owned.
I remember that I used to kid around and say things like, “Want to go back to my place and play record?” You know. Singular. “Record,” not “records.” Then, when the target of my jest looked puzzled, I would admit that I didn’t own anything to play it on anyway. So ha-ha. Big joke.
I was thinking about that again today while I was looking out on the vast sea of snow surrounding my house here in Amagansett. There’s no much snow here — we got over two feet, honest — that everything’s cancelled. For everyone who has things to cancel, that is.
But is it a Snow Day if you don’t have anything to cancel? It kind of takes the fun out of getting outside and making first tracks — like I did on Sunday, filling my boots with snow in the process — when you’re not doing it instead of Something Important That Was Scheduled. Like school. Or work. Or a colonoscopy.
These days my schedule is, well, rather open. Partly because of Covid. Partly because it’s winter. But mostly because I’m retired. Oh, there’s always some grout to be tackled. But I’m talking about things that require actually getting dressed to do. And I don’t mean in leggings.
But you know what? My current homebound existence made it a breeze to get ready for this snowstorm. See, I already had books on my end tables. I already had movies in my queue. I already had knitting on my needles. I already had soup and chili in my freezer. I even already had Wordle on my iPad.
I was completely and totally prepared to be buried up to my eyebrows — well, really, my hips — in flakes. But, gosh, my Snow Day turned out to be not that different from any other day. Well, except for the snow. And I must admit it made a nice change of pace to get out there and make those first tracks.
Now I guess I’d better go tackle that grout.
Amagansett, New York. February 2022
I love all your beautiful snow! And the skijoring pic from Erin! I thought that looked like so much fun. My childhood cross country skiing–the sweat, the struggle–why didn’t we think of tying ourselves to our dog?
Yes! I am ashamed to say that my sibs and I wasted a perfectly good dog. I bet Sandy would have happily pulled us around the snowy yard. Wasn’t that the cutest video?
Well, my dearest Alice. I lived in Maine and Massachusetts and prior to that Ontario so I have seen the worst of winter. I have been thinking of all you guys back there. You did everything right to prepare. A generator may be in order. The only way I’d live back there is if I had a generator and was within walking distance to the general store. But we are prepared for a freeze tonight. I worked up a sweat this morning covering my plants.
Oi! “Worked up a sweat covering my plants” Now that’s the way to deal with a storm! Thank goodness (per your prescient point) we have a generator. So far, it hasn’t had to kick in. Tho there is another storm on its way. We’ll see how the infrastructure — and the groceries — hold out! You stay safe and warm! xoxo
Lisa is oh-so-right. Write a book. You are amazing.
Gosh and golly. Two women whom I inordinately admire. I’d better get cracking! xoxo dear Sharon
I that icy/fluffy/delicious stuff is headed our way. Too bad no one knows how to drive in it down here so I see calamities in my future. Really should have read the book before starting “Station Eleven.” The traveling theater troupe looks a bit like a nest of disheveled carnies to me, but I know, I know, I don’t understand the sometimes cryptic bits of it and should read the book so I will. But back to you: please, put all these blogs in a book!
We lived in Memphis for a time when I was little, Lisa. And I remember that the world ground to a halt when we got the merest snowy sprinkle. And no, none of those Tennesseans knew how to drive in it! Good luck 🍀 Yes, you really should give Station Eleven (the book) a try. It’s so gorgeously written, I’m thinking you’ll devour it whether or not you stick with the HBO. “Nest of disheveled carnies!!!”Priceless!!! Thanks for the encouragement about a book, BTW. It has crossed my mind xoxo