Anticipation, Little Deformed Snow People. . . and Other Things.

Today we have a snow day and I don’t have to be in school. It seemed appropriate that since I have time, I write a little on my blog. This year has been an excellent year but has had its disappointments. One of those was that there were numerous snow storms predicted to hit our area but they just somehow saw Copeland and managed to steer clear of it just in time–or something. Finally we were blessed with gorgeous snow yesterday that cut the school day in half yesterday and canceled it today.

When I was a student I had the mistaken notion that teachers hate snow days and students love them, and that we were at opposite ends of the spectrum–that there was perhaps this constant tug-of-war between prayers as the students battled the teachers hoping that God would hear our prayers for a snow day, and the teachers praying that the weather would abate so we could have school. Maybe my teachers were the exception to the rule, but I think I was just wrong about teachers and snow days.

I am now a teacher and I think the prospect of a snow day thrills me a lot more than it ever did when I was a student. To those of you who don’t know, while teaching is a lot of fun, it is also a ton of work–more work than I ever dreamed before I started. It is that feeling of responsibility and the weight of knowing that you must make plans for tomorrow even after your work for today has been completed. In some ways, you have to force yourself to realize that it is alright if you don’t get everything done. If I couldn’t get myself to do this, I would not be able to enjoy life. It was a good discipline to learn.

All this to say, a canceled day of school, lifts that responsibility for a day and allows you to simply enjoy being a person. You still know that you’re going to have to think about tomorrow but the load somehow feels much lighter and the pressure taken off of you. It is a nice feeling to say the least.

I think the anticipation of a snow day is almost as good or better than the actual snow day, the anticipation of sleeping in almost better than the actual sleeping in. It’s a psychological thing, I’m sure. It felt so wonderful last night to know that there would be no school today–that I could spend the day doing fun and relaxing things. Making lattes. Playing guitar. Listening to music.

Today so far, I have done all those things. I have enjoyed them thoroughly. I think, though, the anticipation was nearly as good as the experience. It’s lovely to be human.

Charissa and I also went outside and played in the snow. She managed to persuade me to build a snow man. I didn’t really have boots or gloves, and was reluctant. I knew it would be fun but also knew I would probably freeze my tail (among other things) off. I kind of wanted to but decided to argue about it for a while, out of principle.

I told her I didn’t have proper snow clothes, or boots, or gloves. I also told her that the snow I shoveled yesterday was very powdery and would probably wouldn’t pack well enough for us to make a snow man. My hands and feet would freeze too. Wearing skate shoes in six or seven inches of snow is dampish and cold to say the least.

I have been making a conscious effort to do things that will make memories because, even though they take more work, those are the things that I will remember. Just last night I went for a jog in the zero degree weather (while it was snowing and blowing) only because it seemed like something that would be fun and memorable. I think the people whose headlights caught my bundled up figure running down the road must have thought I had mental issues. I probably do. This was different though. I was running and that would keep me warm. Plus, it didn’t take very long before the insanity was over and I was back inside the warm house.

When Charissa brought some folded laundry into my room, I asked her if she wanted to build a snowman. I think she might have been a little surprised. I was ready first, buy I still didn’t have any gloves. Charissa let me borrow some of her gloves. They were bright red and looked really goofy with my black jeans and black wool coat. We went outside, and I was right. The snow was very powdery and bad for packing. We couldn’t roll the snow into balls, so we just started heaping it up into a pile. It ended up being a sort of snow mountain/monument. Interesting.

Charissa still wanted to make a snowman. She grabbed some random little globs of snow and set them on top of each other. Then she pulled off some small pieces of evergreen needles to give him arms. She tried to put some hair and a hat on his head and his head fell off and pretty much disintegrated. I think she had to give him a new head. I also built one, without the extra stuff and tried to move it over beside the other one. It also fell apart and poofed into nothingness and snowflakes. For from snow was he taken and unto snow he returned. I sculpted another one betwixt my goofy red gloves and succeeded in getting it to stand beside its friend. They then posed for a photo shoot.

Next we went for a walk down the road. It was such a beautiful day and a nice experience. The sun was painting its blinding light across the mounds of snow along the road and on the trees and bushes. Gorgeous, so gorgeous. We came back from our walk and saw the deformed little snow people standing next to each other on the porch, waiting to greet us as we walked past. Charissa laughed and said, “Don’t they look cute together?” I agreed.

I think they should get hooked up. They were made for each other. If they do, I think the first thing they should do is figure out which one is the guy, and which one is the girl. Charissa’s is a little bigger and stockier. Maybe muscular would be a good word for it. You can decide for yourself what that should indicate. Whatever they decide between themselves is fine with me, so long as it actually gets decided. I think that is a very good and key thing in a relationship between snow people. Even if they are deformed.

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This entry was posted in People.

2 comments on “Anticipation, Little Deformed Snow People. . . and Other Things.

  1. tisagifttoreceive says:

    You have to know that you can hardly be a real person unless you’ve made a snowman.
    Also, when the snowperson is wearing a pink scarf, you know she’s a lady and not a snowman.

  2. Andrew says:

    Nice! Just for the record, I laughed out loud reading this post.

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