Snow Days
Jarrod E. Stephens
The Ashland Beacon
Whether it’s a little or a lot, snow and the coveted “snow day” have a special place in the hearts of most school-aged kids (and school employees). The recent winter weather reminded me of a chapter of my first novel, Family Field Days, in which the characters truly get the most out of their snow days. While much of the novel is fiction, there’s a large element that reveals the simplicity of how I grew up. Here’s chapter 32 that was called, “A Flaky Family.”
…
On most school nights it seemed as if the night hours zipped by in fast-forward. An eight-hour nightseemed more like the blink of an eye. This night was a bit different. I slept for what seemed an eternity before Ifinally awoke from my slumber. I felt refreshed and ready to go, but something was strange. I never woke up on my own on a school day. Mom always had to wake me up. I began to wonder if I was dreaming. One glance at Orin,and I was convinced that I was not dreaming. I raised up and sat on the edge of the bed and listened. I could onlyhear some shuffling in the kitchen, but all else was quiet. I slid out of bed and crept into the kitchen, where Ifound Mom cooking.
“Mom, what time is it?” I inquired.
“Eight-thirty,” she replied with her back still to me. “8:30! Mom, we had school today!” I said insurprise.
“Loreti would need a snowplow on the front of the bus to get you kids today,” Mom said with a smile.
“Huh,” I replied, confused, then peered out the window.
Sure enough, Dad knew what he was talking about when he said there was change in the air. We had heard theweathermen talking for a week about a large amount of moisture that was on its way, but I never dreamed itwould come in frozen form. Sure, winter was drawing near, but this was too good to be true. The ground wascovered in glorious school-canceling snow.
“How much is out there?” I asked.
“Your dad measured it this morning at 6:00 a.m., and there was already eight inches.”
“Eight inches! It’s still snowing, too! No telling how much we’ll get!” I shouted.
“Your dad is already making provisions for you all to have plenty of snow tubes to use,” Mom said.
Deep inside I knew that this snow was catastrophic to those having to go to work in the corporate world,but it was sacred to the unincorporated world of my childhood. My shouting had been enough to raise the rest ofthe Merry clan to the surprise snow. We all looked out the window in awe.
The tobacco fields were beautifully blanketed in a pure white snow as smooth as silk.
“What are we waiting on? Let’s get out there and enjoy it!” Orin exclaimed.
Before embarking on our journey of joy, we had to consult the one master who had seemingly created the art of staying warm, Mom.
You see, when winter rolled around, we didn’t get new snowsuits filled with cotton and down feathers.Instead, we went to our closet and Dad’s closet to create what I liked to call the “Three-layer special.” Exquisitelydesigned by Mom, the three-layer special consisted of three layers of work clothes arranged from the tightest insideto the loosest on the outside. Once we were bundled up appropriately and approved by the authority, off we went.
We slowly trudged through the white wonder toward the barn, where Dad’s tracks were leading. The snowwas still pouring from the heavens. Orin and I were trying to catch snowflakes on our tongue as we walked. I’msure we looked ridiculous. When we reached the barn, we entered only to see Dad holding the inflated wondersthat he had acquired at work. They were rubbish and junk to the outside world, but they were unmatched joy for us.
Each inner tube looked like a patchwork quilt with its many patches in place to stop the air fromleaking out. After they passed Dad’s inspection, the tubes were handed over, and Orin and I journeyed on. To thetop of the hill, we slipped and slid. Finally, we reached the summit of Merry Mountain. It really wasn’t amountain but from the top, the barns and the house looked small in comparison to our expectations of joy.
We were both out of breath, so we sat down on the tubes to rest before we began our descent.
“Can you believe this?” Orin pitched some snow into my face.
“No, I can’t, but I sure am going to enjoy it.” I wiped the snow from my face.
“Sean, I’ll go first, and you follow me,” Orin said with a look of seriousness.
We had to make the path perfect, and Orin was an expert at creating great trails. Getting started was thehard part. Orin got on the tube and began rocking back and forth so that the tube began to move. Slowly heproceeded down the slope, leaving a deep trail behind him. I let him get at least halfway down, then began thesame process. The trail was now well on its way to being completed.
When we both reached the bottom, we raced back to the top to enjoy the ride. Now that the snow on thepath was packed, the tubes slid like rockets down the hill. You really had to be ready for a ride when you got on because once the tube started, there was no stopping it until you got to the bottom. Trip after trip the journey to thebottom became more and more swift. The air stung our faces as we zipped down the hill, but the rush was amazing.
Orin and I stayed on the hill until about noon when Dad came and told us to come in for lunch. As much as Ihated to stop, I did because I was hungry and needed some dry clothes. My wardrobe had become soaked withmelted snow after many crashes.
We put the inner tubes in the barn and made our way to the house. I was glad to see smoke bellowing outof the chimney, because I was frozen. When we arrived at the back porch, Orin and I took turns sweeping the snowoff from one another with an old broom. Then we stepped into the laundry and stripped down to our long johns.Mom took our wet clothes and hung them all around the wood-burning stove to dry. We would use them again afterthey dried.
I quickly put on some dry clothes and made my way to the table to find that Mom had made chili. If there wasever a good day to eat chili, this was it. I needed all I could get to warm me up again. Orin finally found his way tothe table, and after Dad prayed, we ate and talked about the glorious snow.
“I can’t believe all of this snow so early in the season,” I began. “It is hard to believe, but I believe it.” Momchuckled.
“Are we supposed to get any more snow?” Orin asked with his mouth full of chili.
“The news said we could get four or five more inches by tomorrow morning, and we already have about ten inches,” Dad answered.
I was overjoyed, because I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there would be no school tomorrow ormaybe even the rest of the week. But I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
“Dad, can we have a big bonfire tonight and sleigh ride after dark?” I asked.
“I don’t see why not if you boys will help me get some things together to burn,” Dad replied.
Immediately after eating, Hallie, Gil, Orin, and I went out to gather wood and junk to burn. We had donethis a few years ago, and it was so fun that we were all willing to face the unseasonably cold weather in order to repeat the enjoyment.
After a sufficient amount of bonfire material was gathered, we spent the rest of the afternoon makingsnowmen, snow angels, and, of course, throwing snowballs. We were just waiting for the sun to go down so we could light the fire.
Despite all we had done, we somehow still had the energy to keep playing and playing. As the night began tofall, Mom brought Starr and Tempest out for a short time. They mostly sat near the soon-to-be bonfire, waitingfor Dad to light it. We were already zooming down the hill and the twins loved to watch us. Dad, who had beenwatching like the leader of a pit crew ready to fix any and all holes created by a collision with a crab applethorn or frozen cow pile once again came to the rescue.
We had all learned that, on the first day, God had created light, but on this snowy night, Dad created “TheBonfire.” After he lit the fire, the whole valley lit up. The light of the fire reflecting off the freshly fallen snowwas amazing. Occasionally, we would stop long enough to roast a wiener or marshmallow. But we didn’t waste amoment. The cold night air was filled with the whoosh of the tubes, the crackling of the fire, and the laughter of our family. It was a blessed time.
But just like all good times, this one went by too swiftly. Before we knew it, the fire was burning low, and wemade our last trip down the hill. I hated to see the day end.
We trudged through the deepening snow to the house. As we went into the laundry to take off the wet clothes,Starr and Tempest broke out into hysterical laughter. They were pointing at Mom and when I looked at her, I could see why they were laughing. Her face was covered in black soot from the fire. Upon closer examination I found thatwe had all become a bit charred looking. We had a good laugh, then lined up for the bathroom, where we waited our turn for a warm shower.
As I lay in bed that night, I pondered the day gone by and decided that my family was a lot like thosesnowflakes falling outside. Just like all snowflakes are different from one another, so were families, and I had themost unique one God had ever created. I thanked God for my flaky family, then drifted off to the glorious thoughtthat there would be no school tomorrow. Even better, my three-layer special would be dry by morning so I couldspend yet another day in the snow.
…
I certainly hope that somewhere there was at least one other “Flaky Family” who turned off their devices and also got the most out of the recent snow. Some of the best memories cost nothing but time.
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