We received 8 new inches of snow overnight, and I readily admit to a wave of nostalgia this morning as the radio mentioned the prominent local school closings.
Remember snow days?
My childhood snow days started with a portable radio next to my ear in bed. Back in the pre-internet days, I'd listen with increasing anticipation as the radio D.J. read down the entire alphabetic list of school closings. With any decent storm, after the "J"s, but before the "L"s, would come "Kettering," my district, and I'd turn off the radio and blissfully drift off into another hour or two of sleep.
My siblings and I would often be treated to a full breakfast on those mornings, a special treat during the week. Since my mother worked in education, she'd usually be off for the snow day as well, and we'd feast on French toast or pancakes. Then came a full day of romping in the snow, mindless television, time to curl up with a book, maybe even a board game. Unlike weekends, which were often filled with sports and church activities, a snow day was complete, unfettered leisure.
Now, of course, my snow days are over. Patients need care at all hours of every day - on holidays, in the middle of the night, and when the snow falls. I was on call when Snowmageddon hit last year, and I had to battle barely plowed roads and fallen trees to get to the hospital.
Ah, if only to have a snow day again.