Snow Day

I love snow. We woke today to just enough snow to turn the yard white but with green circles still visible under the pine trees. But it was still snowing, a gentle wash of huge flakes that kept coming down down down.

Is it wicked to hope that church will be cancelled? Well, I did, wicked or not. Paul refused to start the decision/calling process--he decides this for school every time, he said, he's going to let someone else decide for church.

Then Arlen called and said his kids went to clean the church parking lot and it's very slippery. And it was still snowing. So, no church. We didn't want older ladies sliding on the parking lot, although Matt said seeing that would be fun if it weren't so mean.

The gleeful children got out of their church clothes and into snowsuits and out they went. I joined them after a while, walking down the road, making a snowman, turning my face to the sky to watch the snow fall and feel the cold flakes on my cheeks.

I love snow. I just absolutely and passionately love snow. Walking along, kicking thick white chunks in front of me, bundled up warmly, I could feel three months' worth of SAD slipping away and a wonderful lightening take its place.

It snowed and snowed and snowed. I went for another walk in the afternoon. At last, at last, winter was just what it ought to be.

How did I ever end up living in a place where it hardly ever snows? Normally, you know, it rains here, and winter is wet and sloppy and drippy.

And my girls love the rain. Amy rhapsodizes on her blog about the beautiful Oregon rain. Emily feels so cozy when it's raining outside. "Don't you love the scene in the new Pride and Prejudice where he proposes in the rain? Isn't that so romantic?" she says.
"Romantic?" I snap. "It looks wet and miserable, and how romantic is that, to propose with water dripping off your nose? Now to get proposed to in the twilight, in the gently falling snow, that would be romantic."
"In the SNOW??? Romantic? You can't be serious."

Paul said he'll be sure to tell that future young man to propose to Emily in the rain, if we approve of him, and in the snow if we don't.

Most of the snow stayed, so we stayed home this evening as well. And played games.

I do not like card/table games (except for occasional word games). Paul is the game-player/good parent of the family, who sits at the kitchen table for interminable Risk and Settlers of Catan games with the kids, while I read the Oregon Life section of the newspaper.

So at about 5:30 today I had taken my last walk in the snow and the others had finished their Monopoly game. Paul gathered the troops for another game and they decided to go with Emily's suggestion, Phase 10, a card/number game of mostly luck (bad, usually, for me), a bit of skill, and endless deliberating by the smaller Smuckers. I decided to be a good mom for once and play too.

We played. I answered the phone and made fruit smoothies for everyone, whirring the blender and adding bananas between turns. We played more. I snuck off and checked email while Emily dealt out cards. More turns. I texted Paul and told him he was cute. I called Matt to make sure he's ok, since he was stuck in Corvallis all day. The game went on and on and on. I couldn't get two sets of four to save my life. We all ate ice cream bars. The boys sang songs from Shrek and Remember the Titans. Still the game went on. I tried and tried and tried to get seven cards of one color. Paul knew good and well I needed a red card, but he refused to lay one out, which I was sure was proof he doesn't love me after all. Emily sided with Paul. I was determined to be a good mom, and kept playing, with a new appreciation of the true essense of eternity in Heaven. Finally Paul had mercy on me and suggested I leave the game at 8:30. So I did. I am a bad mom but I would be a worse one if I turned into a raving maniac with inch-long fingernails and cobwebs draping from my ears, weeks from now, still waiting for that last 6 so I could lay out my cards.

Quote of the Day:
"The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, and what shall poor robin do then, poor thing?"
--Mother Goose. Emily tried to help the poor birds today by sprinking sesame seeds on the porch rail, but they didn't find them.