Snow Day

 I am a Southerner. We don't get much snow, and that's probably how I prefer it. That "snow on the ground 8 months out of the year" life just isn't for me. But when we do get some, whether it's a little, or by our standards, a lot, I look out the window 5,323 times per day until it's all melted. I get out from under my blanket on the couch to look at the white blanket on the ground. The cardinal landing on the snow covered branches of my cedar tree looks like a Christmas card come to life. These days, the "No School" announcement comes via phone, text, email, and social media, but it still produces the same old thrill it did when we had to watch for our school district in the list of closures scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen. It was either that, or a phone call from someone in the know. Of course, if we looked out and saw 2 flakes, we knew it was canceled and just went back to bed. 

Snow cream. Hot chocolate for the kids, coffee for me. Chili. Board games. Books. Movies. Not feeling like I really want to put two layers on me and Liberty, plus find stuff to wear for the others, to brave the cold, but being unable to resist. Finding whatever will suffice as a sled. I've tried it all. Cardboard. Kiddie pool. Tote lid. Laundry basket. The hood or door, can't remember which, off my granddad's old car. The kids had real sleds..well, plastic snow saucers. However, they met their demise this winter. 

Every time I look out the window, I smile involuntarily. There is magic in it. I'm not sure what it does, this magic. Fountain of youth? I can hope. I do know it bathes my heart in joy and makes me FEEL like a kid again, even if it doesn't make me look like one. The quiet hush outside soaks into the walls of my home,  quiets my soul. Now it's mostly gone, and tomorrow, we're back to the real world. That's ok. The real world is a lovely place, too. Next stop in my daydreams: the beach.