TThere are few times when I wish myself back to school days.
Sure, I’d like to take a decade or so off my age, but I have no desire to relive my youth. But there are days when I experience a twang of jealousy.
I would love to turn on the radio on a snowy morning and hear the announcer say, “No work today at the Daily Globe.”
It just doesn’t happen, especially since I probably live the closest to work, have a four-wheel drive vehicle and have no excuses for not getting there. And except for the most dire weather circumstances, the news must get out. We’re kind of like the postal service in that respect.
More than a decade or so ago, Hubby Bryan had to attend a trade show, and I was left home by myself. A blizzard, of course, blew in, leaving him stranded in Vermillion, and I was faced with a couple feet of snow piled up down the middle of our driveway. At the time, we didn’t have a snowblower, and even if we did, I wouldn’t have been courageous enough to use it. So out came the shovel, and I cleared enough of a path to get the Jeep out of the garage.
I kept hoping a knight in shining armor would drive up on his snowblower, but it didn’t happen. One of the developmentally challenged guys who lived next door came out and tried to scoop, but that help was short-lived. Somehow, I managed to get out of the driveway and to work.
I sure could have used a snow day.
(Since then, Bryan has been insistent that I learn to use the snowblower that we eventually purchased. I prefer not to let him leave home in the winter.)
This morning, another WHS alumnus who graduated at about the same time was lamenting on Facebook that the schools are so much quicker to cancel school these days then back when we roamed those halls. It does seem that way, but I do know that they never announced a school closing or late start the night before. We had to sit by the radio and wait … and wait … and wait … to find out if there would be a snow day. And when they did, we rejoiced!