Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've no place to go, Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!”  …Wait a minute!  The fire is delightful, but no place to go?  Really?  I don’t know about you, but I have plenty to do and plenty of places to go! … or do I?

We are a people on the go like no other.  I remember back in the 60s and 70s when I was growing up in Saline on the farm. When it snowed more than a couple inches, we all just slowed down and hunkered in.  There truly was no place we had to go, so we just didn’t.  The cows still got milked each morning and again in the evening, but really, the rest could wait.  I remember using that time to just be.  We would be with each other, but be slower than normal and be all that we really needed to be, no more… no less. 

Some times in the midst of some heavy snow, we would all play cards in my grandparent’s dining room, Shang Hi Rum, Go Fish, or Euchre. Other times, the boys would go off and do whatever boys do and me and my two aunts would go off and do what girls do.  We would play house with our dolls; we would embroider, knit, or sew a new project; or we would play a rousing game of Truth or Dare. 

I remember my grandmother would cook more than usual.  She would spend her time in the kitchen making a big pot of simmering soup.  The aroma would waft into the rest of the house, assuring us all it was going to be a warm and delicious day.  Sometimes my great grandmother would jump in with some Romanian favorites like baklava or crepe suzettes.  During a really good snow, we might even get a huge batch of sarmale (stuffed cabbage rolls).  To die for! 

There was always the aftermath of a snow storm that unfolded, as well.  Once the winds died down and the snow transitioned from dangerous to beautiful, we would all begin the process of getting dressed, layer by layer, in order to become part of the pristine winter landscape we call snow.  We would start with oversized long johns, and then add a pair of smaller jeans over larger ones, and then top it off with an old school one piece snow suit that zipped from your lower calf all the way up to your chinny chin chin.  Then we’d add extra socks on both our feet and hands before adding a hat and scarf.  And off we’d go!... straight off the porch with a superman jump into the nearest snow drift.  From there we’d make snow angels and snow forts.  We’d ride dinosaur snowmobiles and be thrown from saucer sleds.  We’d build snowmen and go ice skating, let snowflakes land on our tongues and suck icicles like they were lollipops.  And when it was all said and done, we’d come back in leaving a pile of snow gear the size of Mount Zion by the back door.  Then we’d all pile on the floor heaters with a blanket until it ballooned over us like a parachute, filling with hot, soothing air to dry wet undies and wind parched cheeks. 

I didn’t notice any kids outside this week… even with a day off and fresh snow on the ground.  I heard people grumbling because they had so much to do and needed to get their cars dug out to do it… but I didn’t see any saucers or snowmobiles, snow forts or ice skates. 

I have always wondered if snow days are really gifts from God? You know, a Father-forced day to actually s l o w down, to spend time together laughing and playing, no matter our age?  I hope we aren’t all in such a hurry that we miss this gift… afterall, we only have it a couple months and then it’s gone.  “The fire is slowly dying, and, my dear, we're still goodbying, but as long as you love me so, Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!”