(s)no(w) days

Back in the 1960's, snow days (that is, no school due to snow) were announced over the radio, crackling into our kitchen on Fernwood Drive in Simsbury, Connecticut. It took a LOT of snow in New England for school to cancel, but when it did, the announcements droned on for - no joke - probably a half hour. The famed Bob Steele of WTIC radio, in his smooth baritone voice, would read the school closings so slowly and deliberately that I nearly fell back asleep while eating my oatmeal.

I remember coming in from hours of snow play and turning on - a special broadcast only on snow days - "Snowbound Theater" - on TV. Because, kids, we had no DVDs or T-Vo ya know!

Now, 45 years later, moms need only pull up the local listings online and instantly know delays or closings. It's taken the anticipation away, if you ask me. Darn kids don't even have to get out of bed before mom hollers, "no school today!"

My own kids floated somewhere in between the era of radio announcements and cyber-announcements. During the 90's, we'd flip on the local TV station and wait for the cancellations to zip along the bottom of the screen.


I know it's status quo for moms to complain about snow days, but I kind of liked them. We'd stay in p.j.'s all morning, leisurely eating homemade waffles. Then we'd mount a massive play-in-the-snow campaign in which all coats, hats, scarves, mittens and boots were called into service. And within a couple of hours, I'd be muttering and mopping up puddles from tracked-in snow. Those were some intense but fun days.

Well. Now I have no school kids at home. If I hear snow's on the way, I just make sure I have soup makings on hand and line up some reading and writing on my desk.

I heard from my peeps down south that today's a snow day. Enjoy some waffles for me!