I didn’t sleep last night. Not a wink.

Not sure why, other than one of the challenges (and great pleasures) of retirement is not having a schedule set by anyone but yourself.

James is back at college, so there wasn’t a school-aged son to stand at the darkened window and ask repeatedly, “Do you think we’ll get a snow day tomorrow? Just in case – can I stay up late?”

It was always such a temptation to let the boys stay up as late as they’d like in anticipation of a snow day. Here in southern Indiana, it doesn’t take much to call off school.

I don’t believe we ever had a snow day back in the ’60s when going to school meant trudging more than a mile to Sacred Heart Elementary in Pittsfield. In a skirt (for me anyway). We were located in “the Heart of the Berkshires” in western Massachusetts, so snow was a constant for half of the year.

Mom let us stay home one day, though. Too much snow for my short knee-socked legs to shuffle through. We spent the day outdoors anyway, and built a snow cave.

Years earlier, when Mom was pregnant with me (and Dad used their only car to drive to work), Mom had quite a challenge when she wanted to run errands in the snowy town of Holley, New York.

A decade later, those same two brothers got shoveling duty so the pathway to the back porch (where the milkman dropped off fresh milk regularly) was clear.

I remember that jacket Dave has on so well. I think all three brothers wore the black furry jacket with the red and white diamond shapes over the years. Mom, too.

After we played in the snow, Mom always had hot chocolate ready for us (since the milkman could make his delivery, thanks to my brothers’ shoveling). And if Dad was home from work, there was a toasty fire.

A lifelong lover of nature, Mom wrote many poems about snow. Here’s one from 2002:

Second Snowing

By six the snow had stopped
but by eleven the sun shook down
a second snowing

Ghost babies on the tree trunks
slimmed down disappeared
the hoods of cars were bumped and thumped
the children’s jackets speckled

What was left then stayed there
when the sun went in
the oak leaves kept their muffs and mittens
for the morning

~ joan vayo 27 November 2002

It’s all done snowing here, and grandson Cameron got a snow day. I’ll have to ask if he begged John to stay up late last night.

Because John was always ready for an adventure:

“Second Snowing” © 2002 Joan Cassidy Vayo. All rights reserved.

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