Celebrating Snow

Is it already Wednesday night–more than half way through our winter vacation?  It seems like just yesterday that I had my never-ending day of classroom observations (me being observed that is, not me observing)…followed by a night of restaurant work on Valentine’s Day…followed by that oh-so-early 5:30 AM wake-up to be back in the classroom again…followed by some quick packing and a three-hour car ride north.

Oh how I was looking forward to this sweet, sweet vacation during which I could both relax and get some much-needed work done.  Neither of these things have happened, by the way.  Both relaxation and work have been usurped by something even more satisfying than writing, more compelling than sleep.

Snow.  When it’s out there, I need to be out there too.

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I realize I probably should have spent the bulk of my snow-days beefing up for my observation, readying lesson-plans and all that, but instead, I spent them shovelling (two days to get us out of the driveway), porch-jumping, fort-making, sugar-on-snow-eating, snow-shoeing with the girls during a sleet-storm, and testing my weight on ice-islands in the middle of the stream, among other things…

Likewise, I spent my days in Vermont not sleeping, nor catching up on all the paperwork I brought from school.  I spent one day sledding on ice-glazed snow over rolling hills, until Emerson and I found the mother-of-all-sledding-hills and took a few runs before sledding back to alert the others.  I spent another day at the ski-mountain of my childhood, weathering the whipping winds and 2 degree temperature at the top of the mountain so that I could rekindle my relationship with some of my favorite trails of yore–all while the girls were in ski lessons.  We celebrated afterwards with hot-chocolates.  Mine included peppermint-schnapps.

Back home, we have just finished another day of skiing, and we have at least two more on the agenda.  Sunday we’re going to an outdoor birthday party full of scavenger-hunting and animal-tracking…and then Emerson has rehearsal for her ice-show…and then…back to school.

Maybe I’ll wish I spent a little more time catching up when Monday comes and I’m feeling the crunch again.

Maybe my priorities are a little out of wack…but to me, watching my 77 year-old mother do a face bomb at the end of a slick run on the mother-of-all-sledding-hills and come up bloody and laughing (did I mention she was wearing a heart-monitor?), or hearing my seven-year-old scream “THIS IS AWESOME!” as she whizzes past me on the ski trail, beats all that other crap.

Cheers to Winter!

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