Here in western North Carolina we’ve recently been dealing with a bit of winter weather. Looking out my window, snow still covers the ground from last weekend’s storm, even as the rain attempts to wash it away. One of the reasons I moved to North Carolina was to enjoy milder winters, and so far the two storms I’ve experienced here are a far cry from the harsh, cold and snowy winters of Maine.
Still, with so much snow on the ground, and school cancellations in effect, I couldn’t help but recall the memories of my own childhood snow days.
A snow day was better than a holiday because it came unexpectedly, perhaps negating that spelling test or math quiz that we all were dreading. Those of us that had to be dragged out of bed on normal school mornings could be found sitting by the television or radio well before our alarms went off, listening intently to the listing of school districts, practically holding our breath in anticipation. It was music to our ears when the DJ or news anchor called out our school. Fist pumping, happy dances and shouts of joy were performed in celebration before rushing to the kitchen to grab breakfast.
Ah yes, the advent of a snow day turned even the most reluctant riser into an early bird. A bowl of cereal was quickly devoured and then we began the process of getting ready to head out into the snow. Long johns and sweaters, snow pants, scarves, mittens, hats, heavy wool socks, bread wrappers on each foot to make sure the snow that got into the snow boots didn’t make it to our feet. Last but not least, the winter jacket, which was more like a parka.
Yes, we probably did resemble the Stay-Puft marshmallow man.
We were ready to head out into the snow to build snow forts guarded by snow men, go sledding on the nearest snow bank, and have massive snow ball fights. We took breaks only for lunch and a bathroom break and then we were back outside. And by the time it began to get dark and our parents called us inside, we were covered in snow.
Our cheeks were rosy from the cold, but underneath all of that protective gear we were sweating. We dug into our dinner, ravenously hungry from all the activity and by the time bedtime rolled around there wasn’t the normal battle for five more minutes because our eyes were already drooping with exhaustion.
Do kids still spend their snow days that way? Do you have winter weather memories? If so, please leave a comment or share your own story in the Boomer Voices section.
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