The world should be laughing at England right now. In fact, I'm sure this has made international news. Why? In case you're unawares, England has been hit with the most snow in recent days in 18 years. That's more than the entire lifetime of my oldest students. And it shows. All the students, from my tiny year 8s up to my year 11s, were going absolutely bonkers this morning. All over a small dusting of the white stuff; stuff that we take for granted in Canada. It's obviously a little comical to me, a hardened Canadian, but it also has it's endearing moments.
I suppose, if I am going to tell this story right, I should start from the beginning...
My alarm woke me up yesterday morning. This in itself was a bit of a shocker, since over the past months I've learned to wake up a minute or two prior to it's going off. On rare occasions, such as that morning, it will wake me from a pleasant dream and leave me in a bit of a mood. Grumbling to myself, I turned it off and rolled out of my bed.
As I placed my feet on the floor, I could hear my room mate shuffling around in his room next to mine. He seemed to be moving quicker than usual, and I wondered what he was up to. Before I could even stand up, he hastily threw open his door and made a dash down the hallway to the bathroom. Catching on to what he was doing, I cursed him out loud.
"Son of a bitch!" I said, in my groggy morning voice.
I threw my towels on the bed, pacing back and forth, waiting to hear what he was going to do in there. He knew damn well that at 6:40, like clockwork, I went into the bathroom to have my shower. I take 15 minutes in there, and then I don't go in for the rest of the morning. Could he not have waited for my usual 15 minute shower?! Did he not realize that my morning schedule was VERY tight?
I used to get up at 6am, which then got pushed back to 6:20, and finally to 6:40 in December, when one day I slept in, and was amazed to see that I could easily get ready in time, thus allowing me an extra 20 minutes in bed. However, this extra 20 in bed meant that I had to be very aware of my time. I couldn't dilly dally, and had to follow a pretty exacting schedule; Pee, shower, brush teeth, put on clothes, blow dry hair, straighten hair, apply minimal makeup, make lunch, swallow half a bowl of cereal, and breeze out the door. I had about 50 minutes in which to accomplish all this, as Rachel comes at or around 7:30 every morning.
All this was running through my head, as I heard the toilet flush down the hall.
"He better not throw me off schedule," I seethed to myself. "He knows damn well when I leave, and that I need to shower. Why is he doing this?! He better just be peeing..."
My heart sank as I heard the shower turn on.
"What an asshole!" I cursed, picking my towels up and then throwing them down again. "I might have to call in sick, I can't get ready in time! This is RIDICULOUS!"
Pacing, I tried to decided what to do. Should I go knock on the door, and tell him I needed to shower ASAP? Or should I call in sick, and take that hit? I couldn't rationalize that plan of action though; it seemed like I was grasping at straws for an excuse to stay home. Cursing both my roomie and myself, I decided to go downstairs and make my lunch and breakfast; do things in reverse order, to salvage the morning.
I walked down the stairs in the dark, and rounded the corner into the kitchen.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I looked through the kitchen window, into the back garden.
Piles of snow blanketed everything.
My sour mood instantly lifted, and I pumped my arms in the air victoriously.
"YESSSS!" I said, gleefully.
I raced back up to my room, and grabbed my cell phone.
"Do you reckon its enough snow to cancel school?" I texted Rachel.
"Hopefully!" she replied, "I've had a shower just in case, but I've not changed"
I crawled back under my covers, a rather daring move I must admit, and laid there, my head spinning with the possibilities of a snow day. No less than a minute later my cell phone beeped at me again.
"SNOW DAY! Enjoy!" it said. It was from the Department Head.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" I said triumphantly, before pulling the blinds tight and snuggling down into bed.
I didn't get to sleep for very long though, about two hours. 9 am rolled around, and the sounds of children laughing outside woke me. I pulled the blinds to let the sun in, and smiled as I saw a large group of people gathered in the small plot of land in front of my house. Kids of all ages, along with their parents, were out in full force, rolling snowmen and having snowball fights. It was evident to me that the sight of the snow was magical for everyone, not just the young. Clearly this was a thing to be excited about. It did look lovely too, as it was much more snow that the measly bit that had dropped Monday. It made me smile, as I thought about how we truly take snow for granted back home; its become such a normal thing, such a constant disruption, that we stop to appreciate how much fun it can be!
I must admit that my appreciation for snow grew when I was home for Christmas. It snowed buttloads, and I wasn't even mad. One night, quite late, I was walking home from Trevor's, in a proper heavy snowfall (they'd call it a Blizzard here!). Being the silly girl that I am, I hadn't worn my winter boots, instead opting for a fashionable high heeled boot. The snow was so high that it was half way up my calf, clearly ruining the lovely suede of my boot; this didn't concern me much though, as I was awestruck by the winter wonderland into which I had deposited myself. I slipped and slided the entire way home, and delighted in every minute of it. At one point, my heels failed me entirely, and I went crashing into the road. No cars were about, since it was so very late, so I was perfectly alright. I let out a small scream as I fell, and braced myself for the concrete. However, the amount of snow was such that it cushioned my fall considerably. It was also so fresh, so fluffy, that it sprang up around me in light airy pieces.
I sat there, on my bum, for a second or two, and then broke out into laughter. As falling snow often does, my laughter was muffled, subdued. It only made me laugh louder, because I knew that this was a moment that only the snow and I shared; not a single soul was around to see or hear me.
I picked myself up, and slowly continued my walk home. The element of having to walk slowly in my heels really allowed me to see the true beauty of a heavy snowfall. I marvelled in it, rejoiced in it, and truly fell in love with it. It was the first time I realized that I loved snow, and that I'd missed it deeply in my absence. I went to bed that night smiling.
This memory flashed into my head as I watched the people outside enjoying the snow. Though it was a fairly small amount to me, it was a large amount to them. It was just as beautiful and joyful this morning, for them, as it was for me that night.
I spent most of the day cozy in my room, glancing out now and again to watch the progress being made on the army of snowmen outside. I would have gone out myself, but I was feeling like such a lazy ass, that I decided to stay in and read. It was a lovely day.
This morning I must admit that the first time I did, before even leaving my bed, was check outside. To my disappointment, it looked slushy, but not bad enough for school to be closed. I sighed and then got ready.
When we got into school, however, the snow started coming down again. Teachers and students alike began to feel the excitement build. A message circulated that we might be sent home early, if the snow continued to fall. My period one class, my top set 11s, came in and were a bundle of energy. I did manage to get them to work fairly productively though, until about ten minutes before class was scheduled to let out.
Then an e-mail came in. They were closing the school. I displayed the e-mail on the whiteboard, waiting for students to notice what it said.
There were cheers, laughter, and instant chaos. They started packing up. Chairs went up on top of the desk, signalling the end. I tried and tried to keep them in for the last 5 minutes, but their excitement to go play in the snow overpowered me, and let them out 5 minutes early. From my window I watched as they threw snow at each other, and laughter lit up their faces.
It was lovely.
So here I am not, sitting in my room typing this as I wait for Rachel to get her things gathered to leave. It's not even noon yet, so the entire day is ahead of me. And the weekend as well.
All because of a simple and beautiful thing like snow.
I suppose, if I am going to tell this story right, I should start from the beginning...
My alarm woke me up yesterday morning. This in itself was a bit of a shocker, since over the past months I've learned to wake up a minute or two prior to it's going off. On rare occasions, such as that morning, it will wake me from a pleasant dream and leave me in a bit of a mood. Grumbling to myself, I turned it off and rolled out of my bed.
As I placed my feet on the floor, I could hear my room mate shuffling around in his room next to mine. He seemed to be moving quicker than usual, and I wondered what he was up to. Before I could even stand up, he hastily threw open his door and made a dash down the hallway to the bathroom. Catching on to what he was doing, I cursed him out loud.
"Son of a bitch!" I said, in my groggy morning voice.
I threw my towels on the bed, pacing back and forth, waiting to hear what he was going to do in there. He knew damn well that at 6:40, like clockwork, I went into the bathroom to have my shower. I take 15 minutes in there, and then I don't go in for the rest of the morning. Could he not have waited for my usual 15 minute shower?! Did he not realize that my morning schedule was VERY tight?
I used to get up at 6am, which then got pushed back to 6:20, and finally to 6:40 in December, when one day I slept in, and was amazed to see that I could easily get ready in time, thus allowing me an extra 20 minutes in bed. However, this extra 20 in bed meant that I had to be very aware of my time. I couldn't dilly dally, and had to follow a pretty exacting schedule; Pee, shower, brush teeth, put on clothes, blow dry hair, straighten hair, apply minimal makeup, make lunch, swallow half a bowl of cereal, and breeze out the door. I had about 50 minutes in which to accomplish all this, as Rachel comes at or around 7:30 every morning.
All this was running through my head, as I heard the toilet flush down the hall.
"He better not throw me off schedule," I seethed to myself. "He knows damn well when I leave, and that I need to shower. Why is he doing this?! He better just be peeing..."
My heart sank as I heard the shower turn on.
"What an asshole!" I cursed, picking my towels up and then throwing them down again. "I might have to call in sick, I can't get ready in time! This is RIDICULOUS!"
Pacing, I tried to decided what to do. Should I go knock on the door, and tell him I needed to shower ASAP? Or should I call in sick, and take that hit? I couldn't rationalize that plan of action though; it seemed like I was grasping at straws for an excuse to stay home. Cursing both my roomie and myself, I decided to go downstairs and make my lunch and breakfast; do things in reverse order, to salvage the morning.
I walked down the stairs in the dark, and rounded the corner into the kitchen.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I looked through the kitchen window, into the back garden.
Piles of snow blanketed everything.
My sour mood instantly lifted, and I pumped my arms in the air victoriously.
"YESSSS!" I said, gleefully.
I raced back up to my room, and grabbed my cell phone.
"Do you reckon its enough snow to cancel school?" I texted Rachel.
"Hopefully!" she replied, "I've had a shower just in case, but I've not changed"
I crawled back under my covers, a rather daring move I must admit, and laid there, my head spinning with the possibilities of a snow day. No less than a minute later my cell phone beeped at me again.
"SNOW DAY! Enjoy!" it said. It was from the Department Head.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" I said triumphantly, before pulling the blinds tight and snuggling down into bed.
I didn't get to sleep for very long though, about two hours. 9 am rolled around, and the sounds of children laughing outside woke me. I pulled the blinds to let the sun in, and smiled as I saw a large group of people gathered in the small plot of land in front of my house. Kids of all ages, along with their parents, were out in full force, rolling snowmen and having snowball fights. It was evident to me that the sight of the snow was magical for everyone, not just the young. Clearly this was a thing to be excited about. It did look lovely too, as it was much more snow that the measly bit that had dropped Monday. It made me smile, as I thought about how we truly take snow for granted back home; its become such a normal thing, such a constant disruption, that we stop to appreciate how much fun it can be!
I must admit that my appreciation for snow grew when I was home for Christmas. It snowed buttloads, and I wasn't even mad. One night, quite late, I was walking home from Trevor's, in a proper heavy snowfall (they'd call it a Blizzard here!). Being the silly girl that I am, I hadn't worn my winter boots, instead opting for a fashionable high heeled boot. The snow was so high that it was half way up my calf, clearly ruining the lovely suede of my boot; this didn't concern me much though, as I was awestruck by the winter wonderland into which I had deposited myself. I slipped and slided the entire way home, and delighted in every minute of it. At one point, my heels failed me entirely, and I went crashing into the road. No cars were about, since it was so very late, so I was perfectly alright. I let out a small scream as I fell, and braced myself for the concrete. However, the amount of snow was such that it cushioned my fall considerably. It was also so fresh, so fluffy, that it sprang up around me in light airy pieces.
I sat there, on my bum, for a second or two, and then broke out into laughter. As falling snow often does, my laughter was muffled, subdued. It only made me laugh louder, because I knew that this was a moment that only the snow and I shared; not a single soul was around to see or hear me.
I picked myself up, and slowly continued my walk home. The element of having to walk slowly in my heels really allowed me to see the true beauty of a heavy snowfall. I marvelled in it, rejoiced in it, and truly fell in love with it. It was the first time I realized that I loved snow, and that I'd missed it deeply in my absence. I went to bed that night smiling.
This memory flashed into my head as I watched the people outside enjoying the snow. Though it was a fairly small amount to me, it was a large amount to them. It was just as beautiful and joyful this morning, for them, as it was for me that night.
I spent most of the day cozy in my room, glancing out now and again to watch the progress being made on the army of snowmen outside. I would have gone out myself, but I was feeling like such a lazy ass, that I decided to stay in and read. It was a lovely day.
This morning I must admit that the first time I did, before even leaving my bed, was check outside. To my disappointment, it looked slushy, but not bad enough for school to be closed. I sighed and then got ready.
When we got into school, however, the snow started coming down again. Teachers and students alike began to feel the excitement build. A message circulated that we might be sent home early, if the snow continued to fall. My period one class, my top set 11s, came in and were a bundle of energy. I did manage to get them to work fairly productively though, until about ten minutes before class was scheduled to let out.
Then an e-mail came in. They were closing the school. I displayed the e-mail on the whiteboard, waiting for students to notice what it said.
There were cheers, laughter, and instant chaos. They started packing up. Chairs went up on top of the desk, signalling the end. I tried and tried to keep them in for the last 5 minutes, but their excitement to go play in the snow overpowered me, and let them out 5 minutes early. From my window I watched as they threw snow at each other, and laughter lit up their faces.
It was lovely.
So here I am not, sitting in my room typing this as I wait for Rachel to get her things gathered to leave. It's not even noon yet, so the entire day is ahead of me. And the weekend as well.
All because of a simple and beautiful thing like snow.
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