Snow Days

We're on the second day off from school today because of the weather.  While one unplanned day off is a lark, a gift from the heavens, by this, the second day, the joy is beginning to wear a little thin because I know the start of next week will be extra hectic without any lesson plans and preparation.  But, oh well, that's Monday and today is only Friday and I've still got two whole days to go before I have to deal with it. Seize the day, right?

Back at the beginning of December I was seriously tempted to join the Civil War Tribute quilt block of the month club at the LQS.  I don't have the best track record when it comes to BOM's, as I wrote about here.  I loved, loved, LOVED the pattern, but I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved in yet another long term project, and I certainly didn't need to buy any more fabric.  However, after scouting around on the web, I found a source for the pattern alone.   It was a little pricey (okay, a lot pricey), but I'm considering it a late Christmas present.  The directions look nice and clear, so I'm going to organize my civil war fabrics and get started on it.

The other night I read a post from Connie on Cootie Bug 2's blog about the snow suits that children wore back in the '50's and early '60's.  Where I grew up, in a suburb of Cleveland, everyone had a two piece snow suit.  The jacket part was just a parka as most kids wear now, and the leggings were made of the same thick material.  They were like overalls, with straps that went over your shoulders and little stirrups that went under your shoes.  You shoved your feet down into boots that fit over your shoes.  They were a trial to put on and even more of a trial to take off, but they did keep you warm.

The first day after Christmas break when I was about 8 or 9 years old, my mom got me up, fed me breakfast, and got me into my snow suit for the walk to school.  I've never been a morning person, so I was running very late, and my mom kept warning me that I was going to be late unless I hurried up. We lived in a neighborhood almost a mile from my school.  There weren't many kids at our end of the neighborhood, so I usually walked by myself. 

I remember that it was a very cold, clear morning and the snow was up to my knees. Some people had shoveled their sidewalks, so I was able to make pretty good time past their houses.  Other people hadn't, so there were long patches where I had to wade through the snow. 

The walk to school usually took me about 20 minutes, but as I trudged along, it seemed like it was taking a long time, and remembering my mom's warnings that I was going to be late, I kept trying to speed up, but it wasn't so easy walking through all that snow.  At some point, it occurred to me that I didn't see any other children walking along, the way I did most days.  By the time I got to the big turn in the road where I usually met up with some of the other kids walking to school, there was no one. 

I was really worried now, sure that somehow I had dawdled along too much and I was going to be late to school.  Really late.  I tried to hurry up, and all the time I kept imagining having to walk into my classroom in front of everybody.  Would I get sent to the office?   

I hurried along, through the dip next to the big ravine, across the street, then up the big hill next to the stone wall.  There were no other kids.  None.  All I could think of was how much trouble I was going to be in.

I hurried through the schoolyard which at least had been plowed, and got to the back door of the school.  It was locked!  I couldn't imagine why they had locked the door.  Was this something they did every day after all the kids got there?  I peeked into one of the windows, and the classroom was empty.  Where was everybody?  Was there an assembly? 

I walked around the side of the school and tried the front doors.  They were locked too.  Now I was really confused.  What was going on? I just stood there, unsure of what to do.

Just then, the door opened from the inside and Mr. M., our janitor, poked his head out.  "Go home," he said.  "There's no school today." 

The walk home seemed much shorter than the walk to school!