Northern Wisdom

We keep a few snow shovels in our attic for those rare times we have to dig out, and they have been waiting optimistically on the porch since early January. They haven't been necessary in either of the two recent storms; the light and fluffy snow was easy enough to brush off the cars and drive over. 

There is a plow service for our community, though, and it has been cold here since the snowfall, so although we have avoided slush, there is quite a bit of ice in our parking lot. Unfortunately, when we tried to make the way to our cars a bit less treacherous, our snow shovels were not up for the job. 

No worries though: my wife is from Buffalo, and they know a few things about getting rid of snow and ice up there. So off we headed to our local big box hardware store and, back in the garden tools, scored ourselves a long-handled chopper/scraper. 

Back at home, the ice never had a chance. I chopped and scraped and Heidi shoveled the chunks away and sprinkled ice melt on the damp pavement.

"Thank you for your public service," a neighbor said as he walked the newly cleared pathway to his car. 

"It was my pleasure," I said cheerfully because, really? There's not much more satisfying than having the right tool for a job.

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I ended up on some travel mailing list that sent me an intriguing offer this morning. It was an all-inclusive resort with luxury amenities: spa treatments, healthy locally sourced meals, and all sorts of recreational activities, for under 300 bucks a day. It seemed much too good to be true, so I did a bit of research it.

Turns out, the place was in Australia.

The exchange rate, 66 Aussie cents on the US dollar, made it even more of a bargain. The airfare? Was a dealbreaker.

Right Track

Back in the late 90s nylon track pants were all the rage. Lightweight and waterproof, people wore them all the time either as an over-layer or just as workout pants. The zipper pockets and cuffs were definitely a plus, and between the two of us Heidi and I owned four or five pairs. 

By accident, we realized how they could easily double as snow pants, a garment that neither of us owned. Oversized in that 90s way, track pants could be pulled on over leggings or even sweatpants, and the nylon offered protection from both wind and water so we wore them in bigger storms to shovel out our cars, or go sledding with the boys, or walk the dog.

In fact, it was on an early morning walk with our first dog Isabel that I had the notion to slide down the big hill by our house. Having no sled, I figured the track pants would do, and I was right. That nylon cut the friction to a fraction, transforming the hill into a huge sliding board. After that, Isabel and I gleefully swooshed our way home every time we had the chance.

It's been a while since those days, but when we woke to the quiet beauty of tiny flakes blanketing our world this morning I asked Heidi if we still had those track pants. Turns out they were stowed away in the same little drawer they've always been in, just waiting for a day like today. So I pulled my favorite pair over my warm and comfy sweats and headed out with Lucy into the muffled morning.

And you can bet we took that hill in all its pristine glory, all the way from the top to the parking lot.

Trying to Pin it Down

A bunch of my sixth graders are on the wrestling team, and their excitement was so present this morning as they were chattering about the first meet, which was at home, that I knew I had to go. It didn't hurt that their coach is one of my closest friends on staff. "At least their weight classes are at the beginning of the match-up," I told myself, but as the day wore on, I realized I was looking forward to going down to the gym.

Heidi also had a student on the roster, but he would be at the end; even so, at 3 o'clock we locked our doors and made our way to the enormous field house attached to our school. The mat was laid, the rows of chairs set, the scoreboard lit, and the bleachers not too empty when we arrived. Neither team was in the arena, but there was a handful of colleagues, kids, parents of students, former students, and even a former student who was the parent of a student.

Fortunately, we spent our time visiting with the many folks we knew, because the meet took a long time to get going. When it did, my face twisted into a grimace whenever kids were actually wrestling. To the uninitiated observer that I was, their activity looked so brutish that it seemed impossible to me that it was not only allowed but encouraged. When one of my homeroom students pinned his opponent, though, the look of pure exultation on his face made a convert of me, and I was in.

Then when the next student also won his match and ran over to shake my hand, the deal was sealed, and having his mom give me a quick hug was gravy. Hours later, our team won the match, and the sense of community I felt was so moving that I wondered how I could ever leave it behind.

I have a few decisions to wrestle with myself.

Snow Globe

Back at school today (but with a delayed opening!), the warm-up question was What did you do on your snow day?

The sixth graders spent yesterday sledding, making snowmen and snow angels, and having snowball fights. When it was time to come in, they napped, watched TV, and caught up on schoolwork. Not a single kid mentioned video games or social media, but a few had hot chocolate and popcorn.

We often say that kids today are growing up in a very different world than the one we knew when we were younger, but it's always nice to be reminded that some things haven't changed. 

I'll Take It

And as it turned out? We had a classic snow day today. The district called it early, so we turned off our alarms, threw another log on the fire, and watched a movie. Then we slept in this morning, baked bread, and started a jigsaw puzzle. Around noon, Heidi went to work out with a neighbor, and I headed out to clear off the cars. Those chores accomplished, we have been relaxing-- working on the puzzle, sitting by the fire, you know.

Not everyone was as impressed as we were with our good fortune, though. A mere dusting? Heidi's mom texted from Buffalo. And schools were closed. Wow.

Hopeful

How surprised were we to wake up to a dusting of snow this morning? Since we were already off for the MLK holiday, the tiny light and fluffy flakes seemed more conversational than anything else. It's been two years since we've had a snow day, though, and as the snow persists, it is becoming harder and harder to manage our expectations. 

Especially with a fire burning, bread rising, and a jigsaw puzzle ready to go.