Getting back to writing has been an enjoyable experience over the last year. I tend to reflect on things that are happening or have happened to me throughout the years. This week brought a wonderful package in the mail. Uncle Curt and Aunt Lynn sent me their Gurney catalog in response to the last post. Thank you. I did find a few seed varieties I remember. Unfortunately, I got to the tomato seed page and I had to put it down. I miss fresh, black soil raised tomatoes. It made me sad to think of the crappy tomatoes I get in the city.
Today also happens to be the first snow day I can remember in Houston. 12 years in and we got a little ice and a flurry so school was canceled. It isn't that bad out and nothing compared to the conditions where most of my relatives are but Texans have as much skill in driving on ice as a dog does in knitting. This prompted some observations and comparisons.
During the late 70's and early 80's I recall many snow days in Indiana. The anticipation of the potential snow fall the night before, the prayers for snow and even the superstitions of telling my sister not to talk about it for fear of scaring the snow off are all found remembrances of getting that unexpected free day from the dreary old classroom. (This was before the requirement of makeup days. Something my nieces and nephews will have to do a lot of this year.)
We would go to bed and dream of the fun a large snowfall would bring. I can remember waking up and squinting out the window with my flashlight to see how the snow was falling. Mom and Dad always wondered why I would be so cranky when a snow day wasn't called. It was because I had been up every hour looking to see if snow was accumulating. (Obviously this was before my removal to the basement.- Dena)
The funny thing was had I paid attention n science I would have known how snow, freezing ground and temperature works. The whole thing wouldn't have been so magical. Make no mistake to a 7 year old the determination of a snow day was magical. Dreams of sledding down the hill, throwing snowballs at Katie, and maybe getting a snowmobile out would eventually overtake us until morning.
In the evening we would be glued to the TV watching the crawler at the bottom of the screen. We would get excited as we saw the county schools to the north start calling off before ours. It was happening. The magic of a snow day was coming! I swear Seeger never went to school. They had snow days if there was a half inch of snow. I passed my state history test about counties for Mr. Harper simply because I wanted to track the snow.
The morning of I would hear Dad's clock radio kick on to wake him up. (Clock radios- It was a clock with a radio that played music. Pre-cell phone alarm for those who don't remember them.) Eventually we would anticipate Mom walking down the hall. The door would open and if Mom flipped on the light to announce "Rise and Shine!" (The most hated saying on the face of the earth.) you were going to school. If mom peeked in and saw you awake she would utter the glorious words, "Schools canceled, go back to sleep."
The lights coming on meant you slowly got up and grumbled. Lights staying off meant you jumped up and ran to the back door to flip on the deck light and check the depth of the snow. The days planning begins immediately. Will the cousins be able to come out and play? Will the powder be sled worthy or pack-able for a snow fort?
Today I look at some ice outside, barely more than frost, I start the coffee and feel very sad. Sad that Madison won't have this experience. We will take a trip one day to get her some sled time, but she will never lay awake late into the night waiting for the radio to sound the call to the snow fort.
I guess it isn't that bad. I got a tweet very early and I was able to go back to sleep. She will probably tell me the next time school is canceled.
Today also happens to be the first snow day I can remember in Houston. 12 years in and we got a little ice and a flurry so school was canceled. It isn't that bad out and nothing compared to the conditions where most of my relatives are but Texans have as much skill in driving on ice as a dog does in knitting. This prompted some observations and comparisons.
During the late 70's and early 80's I recall many snow days in Indiana. The anticipation of the potential snow fall the night before, the prayers for snow and even the superstitions of telling my sister not to talk about it for fear of scaring the snow off are all found remembrances of getting that unexpected free day from the dreary old classroom. (This was before the requirement of makeup days. Something my nieces and nephews will have to do a lot of this year.)
We would go to bed and dream of the fun a large snowfall would bring. I can remember waking up and squinting out the window with my flashlight to see how the snow was falling. Mom and Dad always wondered why I would be so cranky when a snow day wasn't called. It was because I had been up every hour looking to see if snow was accumulating. (Obviously this was before my removal to the basement.- Dena)
The funny thing was had I paid attention n science I would have known how snow, freezing ground and temperature works. The whole thing wouldn't have been so magical. Make no mistake to a 7 year old the determination of a snow day was magical. Dreams of sledding down the hill, throwing snowballs at Katie, and maybe getting a snowmobile out would eventually overtake us until morning.
In the evening we would be glued to the TV watching the crawler at the bottom of the screen. We would get excited as we saw the county schools to the north start calling off before ours. It was happening. The magic of a snow day was coming! I swear Seeger never went to school. They had snow days if there was a half inch of snow. I passed my state history test about counties for Mr. Harper simply because I wanted to track the snow.
The morning of I would hear Dad's clock radio kick on to wake him up. (Clock radios- It was a clock with a radio that played music. Pre-cell phone alarm for those who don't remember them.) Eventually we would anticipate Mom walking down the hall. The door would open and if Mom flipped on the light to announce "Rise and Shine!" (The most hated saying on the face of the earth.) you were going to school. If mom peeked in and saw you awake she would utter the glorious words, "Schools canceled, go back to sleep."
The lights coming on meant you slowly got up and grumbled. Lights staying off meant you jumped up and ran to the back door to flip on the deck light and check the depth of the snow. The days planning begins immediately. Will the cousins be able to come out and play? Will the powder be sled worthy or pack-able for a snow fort?
Today I look at some ice outside, barely more than frost, I start the coffee and feel very sad. Sad that Madison won't have this experience. We will take a trip one day to get her some sled time, but she will never lay awake late into the night waiting for the radio to sound the call to the snow fort.
I guess it isn't that bad. I got a tweet very early and I was able to go back to sleep. She will probably tell me the next time school is canceled.