Snow Days

Here in the East, we have what are called Snow Days. A snow day is more officially referred to as a Delay or Cancellation. They occur very routinely (you can watch the local TV news before school starts and see whether they are calling one for your school that day) and are called on account of snow or freezing rain or severe cold. Sometimes, you cannot tell why they must be calling one.

We never had a Delay or Cancellation in Utah, that I know of. But I remember when we had a Snow Day in the 5th Grade. It was very exciting.

It snowed so much, they sent us home to get our snow shovels. We spent the day shoveling the snow at the school. That's about all I remember. They may have given us hot chocolate, I don't know. But I remember being there with my snow shovel. Awesome.

Did I already mention this stuff? If so, you're hearing it again - maybe with a better style.

We had snowball wars at recess out on the South grass field. We built forts and we charged each other (by each, I mean each army, not each kid). We had two huge armies every recess. Must have been 30 to 50 boys in each army if not more, each recess. No one was ever hurt, and I have no recollection of adult regulation, though we may have been lectured a bit on being careful not to throw ice or rocks. No one ever lost an eye. Good clean fun.

I'm sure I already mentioned how we walked to school every day through the snow in our Levi's and canvas shoes and spent the rest of the day in class with wet lower legs and wet feet that squeaked. I guess it didn't matter that we were wet-footed; it was plenty warm in the building with those iron radiators. But I doubt it would have mattered if it were cold; something strange but true about males under the age of 18, they just don't seem to notice such things hardly. Or if they do, they are utterly helpless to improve their condition.

But one day in kindergarten, I showed up with Levi's wet to the hip. My teacher had me go to the playhouse (vertical-slot magazine shelves and bookcases arranged in a corner of the room to form an enclosed square of space by the window) and take off my shoes, socks and pants. She kept me sitting in there with my towel wrapped around my waist until clear through playtime. The playhouse was restricted from other students during playtime that day. This did not prevent several of them from creeping up around me (she had sat me near the entrance) and pointing to a small breach in my wrap and observing that they could see my underwear. Kind of irregular feeling to sit there in class with your very pants hung up high on the wall, drying on the radiator. I wasn't permanently damaged though. I don't think anything does permanent damage in kindergarten unless it has to do with an adult; that's before any of the kids start getting really mean.

I'm certain I mentioned it in another post, but just in case, and since it belongs here anyway, we used to find any way we could to ditch our boots somewhere along the way to school. Having dry, comfortable feet was the last thing on our mind. So whenever possible, I would leave mine in the ditch by our house. One day on the way home, Junior, my buddy, threw my boots (no wonder I didn't have them on my feet) into the middle of a large puddle where I could not reach them without getting too wet. So there was trouble when I got home. I don't remember how it was resolved though.

Junior moved to Washington State after some time in the 1st Grade. He lived just up the street and used to go to church with me. I knew him when we were in the 4-6 year old interval. I had not seen nor heard from him since, but I finally got back in touch with him last month on Facebook.

I usually came the quarter-mile home for lunch from grade school. On cold snow days, Mother most commonly fed me cream-style corn from the can, heated up with milk. And bread and butter. Loved that stuff.

One more thing about snow: In the middle of the night after a big, fresh snow fall, the entire neighborhood would be under at least six inches of untouched, unspoiled snow - the ground, the wire in the fences, the twigs and branches of the trees - everything covered smooth. And because everything had a white fresh blanket on it, it was bright! No electric lights at all, but a white glow that let you see everything clearly - even at a distance. In later years, after I was 12 years old, I always slept out in the loft in our garage, by an open window, with my brother and sister. So we often got to see Winter Glow in the middle of the night, like if we went into the house to go to the bathroom. I was always intensely romantic and when I would see this in and after high school, I would dream of the day I would have a girl I could share it with and walk through it with. Never happened. The kids came to fast and the timing was always off and we only lived there one winter - but not in that neighborhood. We were up in the "Avenues." I grew up down in the flats near downtown, in a more or less pretty part of town with relatively little vehicular traffic.

I also frequently shoveled snow at home, which is a nice memory.