I'm sure that my Canadian readers will smile when I tell them that down here in southern Indiana, we just got three inches of snow overnight, and so all of the schools are closed. As a kid, we used to look forward to these "Snow Days."
The photo above, shows where I would have been fifty-five years ago on a snow day--at the golf course with my sled, and a group of bundled up, neighborhood friends, all of us laying, bellies to the sled, streaking down the hill.
This was our favorite hill. It must have shrunk over the years, because I remember it being a lot longer and steeper, as we tore down the slope headfirst, half blinded by the snow that flew up in our faces. For extra thrills, we would veer our sleds to the right side of photo, and weave through some of the trees, at the edge of grove of pines.
One year on a snow day, it was announced that the schools would be open for those who could come--fat chance that I would show up given a choice, so I stayed at home to sled. The next day when school was once again open, and attendance mandatory, I was dismayed to learn that those of my friends who came to school on the snow day didn't have any classes, but got to play basketball all day in the gym. I was so envious, and vowed to make sure I made it to school the next time we had snow and were given a choice.
I'm sure you have figured out what happened--the next snow day, since the school buses weren't running, I rode in to school with my father, who dropped me off on his way to work. Did I get to play basketball all day, you ask. Not a chance--regular classes all day long! And the same thing happened every other time I when to school on a snow day.
It was one of the great injustices of my childhood.