When I was young, I loved the snow. My brother and I would wake up throughout the night to check outside to see if the predicted snow had arrived. When a large snowstorm was predicted, we could barely sleep because we knew it would mean a “snow day”!
We’d listen to WCTC AM Radio in the mornings to wait for the announcement that our school was closed. Our township started with an “E” so if we caught the announcements from the beginning, we did not have to wait very long to know if we could go outside to enjoy the glorious snow…. Or if… we had to get ready to catch the bus to school.
If we didn’t catch the announcements from the beginning, and we caught the list after “E” it was a long, agonizing wait until we knew our fate for the day! Oh how horrible it was to hear that all the neighboring towns had a day off, but our town had to go to school. Oh, the horror of that!!!
Some days we had a “delayed opening”. While that was better than a full day of school, it still meant that we couldn’t enjoy the snow! It was a limbo kind of day. School started late, but not late enough to go outside and play. In all honesty, I never quite understood the concept of delayed opening. Many of the kids did not come to school, and those that did really never did any school work. Everyone talked about the snow, wanted to be outside in the snow, and couldn’t wait to go home to play in the snow. The classes were short, many teachers were absent, and in their place was a substitute who did not have a clue! What a waste of a perfectly good snow day!!
Oh how we loved everything about the snow. We’d build snowmen by rolling huge balls of snow. My dad had to help us lift the snowballs to put them in place to make the snowman. We’d put a hat, scarf, and buttons on Mr. Snowman. We’d use sticks or branches to make arms. We’d find a large rock to use for his nose, and if we were really lucky, mom would give us a carrot to use for his nose! We cherished our snowmen for the “Snow Day Trophy” that he was
The snow plow would come down the street and plow all the snow up against the curb. My dad would shovel out the driveway, piling the shoveled snow into huge mounds on the sides of the driveway. He would then dig out the inside of the mounds to form snow forts. Dad would pour water on the outside so that it was “ice up”. It wasn’t until years later that I understood why he did that! (He didn’t want it to collapse on us while we were playing!)
We had snowball fights with our friends on our street. Our street had a slight incline making it simply perfect for sledding and “boot skiing” (we’d run down the street and then “slide on the slushy, icy mix). We’d use cardboard squares in place of a sled, and we would zip down the street!
Eventually the street would “blacktop” again once all the snow melted, and we’d lose our ski run, but by the time that happened, we sure did have a few great hours of fun!
We would play hide and seek outside in the freezing cold, and run around like crazy kids! The cold air was invigorating, the snow made it all so fun!
My back yard after 2+ feet of snow fell
Now, nearly 40 years later, I look back fondly at the love that I had for snow, but I no longer see the fun in it!!
- Broken shovels
- Mounds of snow everywhere
- A snow plow that comes along AFTER you just finished getting rid of the mound of ice and packed snow that they left in the wake of their prior drive by
- Rock salt caked on your car – eating your paint with each passing minute
- Ice patches (especially black ice that you think is just “melted snow”)
- Accidents, treacherous roads, spin outs, and unplowed streets
- Traffic jams and reduced speed limits.
As an adult, I sadly admit that the fun and excitement of a huge snow storm is long gone. Now I find a blizzard to be a source of great irritation, high anxiety, and severe stress. A Snow Day is no longer of day of building snowmen and having snowball fights. Now it is a day of shoveling the driveway, making a path for the mailman, melting ice off the car, and hoping that branches and power lines don’t come down from the weight of the snow. It may be a paid day off from work, but I have to wonder which is better: eight hours in an office or four hours shoveling snow?
Oh how I miss the innocence of childhood when snow was a good thing that brought happiness and joy!
Thank you for the lovely reminder of my childhood snow days in New Hampshire. We also built forts at the place where the driveway met the street. Big fun. We had a hill for sledding and a small pond in the backyard for skating. Every kid in the neighborhood was in our yard every day during the winter! Good stuff!