Let It Snow

I vaguely notice at some point mid morning today that it was snowing. But it was snowing those sharp driving diamond sharp ice crystals that sting your eyes and cheeks and make everything slippery and precarious. It wasn't "snowing." I figured it wouldn't last and went back to letting my daughter watch "The Fox and the Hound" for the second time while I wondered if the laundry was done.

I grew up initially in New Jersey, and then in New Hampshire. Snow in the mid-atlantic states when I was a child in the 70s was always an event, and there was snow all winter, but it generally (there were exceptions) didn't bank halfway up first floor walls, or blockade front doors or keep people stranded for days. It painted the urban street on which I lived in an 18' wide row house white, covered the scraggly lawn and winter gardens, made the overly pruned boxwoods seem somehow majestic. In New Hampshire, snow is a way of life, an industry. Snow is the major draw of a state that people forget exists between Vermont and Maine. The first winter I spent in New Hampshire was the worst they'd had in at least a decade. Now piled up in mountains three times my height and never seemed to stop. Our home, which was supposed to be fully stocked with heating oil, cooking gas and wood for the wood stoves, was not. It was cold. Cold like you can't imagine the inside of a house being cold. Go to bed in your winter coat and hat in a sleeping bag under every blanket you own cold. Eventually we got the fuel sources we needed and found that there was warmth to be found in our new home, but it was not a fun introduction to New England.

While the wildflower child played and harassed the cats and I cleaned a bit and thought about how not fun it would be to go back to the call center after a mini-vacation of four days off. I liked not being yelled at. And obviously I've been having a good week with the cam modeling.

Still snowing.

Laundry was done. Dishes were done. Got my work clothes figured out.

Still snowing. But it didn't look like anything...

Got a text from my husband that he was on his way home.

Got in the shower. It was a very nice shower.

Started getting ready for work. Really didn't feel like it, but put my best face forward so to speak.

By the time hubby got home, I was almost ready to put clothes on, and the first thing he said to me was, "You're calling out."

Apparently the two to three inches of snow we had were enough to cause people to drive off the roads or into each other. He passed twelve accidents in 17 miles.

So I got another night off.

And made more than I would have at the telemarketing job on the cam site.

Let it snow.