There is nothing quite like the anticipation of a snow day. When I was little, and there was a storm in the forecast, I would get into bed, bury my head under the covers, and say a little a prayer that the superintendant would wake up with a heart.
It was just a quick little plea to the snow gods that I would wake up to the steady sound of my dad's shovel searching for the pavement. Just a little wish wispered to a higher power that I would love nothing more than to wake up, run down the steep staircase, and find not only the trees and roads covered in white, but also my favorite words running across the news screen: Stoneham Public: CLOSED.
When I was very little, snow days were spent watching movies with my mom, making cookies, and watiting for my dad to come home from work with the official "snow report." It is a fact universally known that dads are connoiseurs of snow--and mine was no exception. He always knew if the snow was the right kind of snow for snow men. And if it was in fact man making material, we'd bundle up and tear it up in the backyard.
Of course, things changed a little as I got older. I have a memory of one particurlar snow day in middle school spent with my best friend Kelly. We made mashed potatoes and stove top stuffing, and practiced our southern accents. Yea...I was a weird kid.
When I was very little, snow days were spent watching movies with my mom, making cookies, and watiting for my dad to come home from work with the official "snow report." It is a fact universally known that dads are connoiseurs of snow--and mine was no exception. He always knew if the snow was the right kind of snow for snow men. And if it was in fact man making material, we'd bundle up and tear it up in the backyard.
Of course, things changed a little as I got older. I have a memory of one particurlar snow day in middle school spent with my best friend Kelly. We made mashed potatoes and stove top stuffing, and practiced our southern accents. Yea...I was a weird kid.
In high school, snow days were for sleeping in and watching TRL and painting my nails and experimenting with my hair. Sidenote: Carson Daly is a tool.
As adults we rarely get the free pass of a snow day. We are almost never handed a get-out-of-jail-free-card...where we can make snowmans, and take naps, and watch movies and bake cookies. Today is one of those rare treats. And I took complete advantage.
After I did a little bit of work, I kicked the actual start of the snow day off by having a drink with my parents--who were similiarly stranded in Stoneham.
We took Rufus out to play in the snow. And he hated it.
My mom and I made biscotti--an Italian cookie recipe and process that I will share in a post soon.
I watched Sydney Poulton's tutorial on the Daybook to create perfectly imperfect wavy hair:http://tandsdaybook.blogspot.com/2010/10/first-of-many-im-sure.html.Her step by step process is incredibly easy to follow--I can't wait to try it.
And then I took a nap with Rufus...who then turned around and napped with Dad.
And then I took a nap with Rufus...who then turned around and napped with Dad.
I also gave myself a manicure with Essie's "wicked". Sidenote: I am obsessed with this black/red color.
And finally I just capped off the day by watching, "An Affair to Remember", and realized that it is like they say in the movie, "Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories."
Hope you had a similarly fantastic snow day, wildcats. And if you didn't have a snow day, and had to go to work, and are reading this and hating me...sorry?
How did I miss this gem?! Love it. A day in the snowed in life of DFest. I love Wicked polish too, it's the color of dried blood. Morbid, but accurate nonetheless. I <3 Essie so.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Love that you worked on accents as a kid. We would have gotten along famously growing up!