Snow Days...

I have so many things to post about, but I'm going to take a moment to express my jealousy towards my mom. She had a snow day today.

When I was growing up in Washington and Missouri, we had snow days every winter. There's a special quality to the light, a certain quiet to the street, a sharp nip to the air on snow days. I remember waking up and seeing the way the light was reflected off the snow into my room and knowing, just knowing, there wasn't going to be school that day. I'd lay snuggled in my bed listening for the phone to ring signifying the phone tree was on alert. I'd plan out how I'd spend my day. Read a book? Build a snowman? Sled? All three?

One of the houses we lived in had a backyard with three gently sloping dips down to the bottom of the yard. At the top of the yard was an apple tree, at the bottom a chicken wire fence separating our yard from a cliff to the road below. We spent many snow days sledding down that hill. We'd start off at the top, dip down the first terrace, slide across to the second and then, just before we hit the third slope, we'd roll out of the sled. I still remember the day we decided to outsmart our backyard.

We tied a rope to the apple tree at the top of the hill and then the other end to the sled. We'd measured out that the rope was long enough to give us a great ride, stopping a foot from the fence. (You see where this is going, don't you?) After checking the knots, we put Melissa in the sled.

Side note: When attempting something potentially risky, it's always best to use a sister as a guinea pig.

Becky and I got behind her, giving her a big push while Rachel stood to the side. It worked beautifully! She slid down the first slope, gaining speed. By the time she hit the second, she was going fast enough to catch air. Then came the third drop - our usual stopping point. She hit the hill going faster than we'd ever thought possible. Just like our plan, the sled came to a jolting halt a foot from the fence. Unfortunately for Melissa, they didn't teach physics in the fifth grade.

As the sled jerked the rope taunt, Melissa kept going. She slid in her little snow pants the remaining foot at a speed too fast to stop or roll. When she finally stopped, her legs were embedded in the chicken wire.

I wonder what Mom was thinking while cutting Melissa out.

I miss snow days.