Category Archives: Memories

Snow day

Memories, Weather, ,

When I was a kid, and because I was a teacher for many years, all the way up until I was in my early 40’s the word snow day brought warm, fuzzy, happy feelings. It still does, but not as much as it used to — since I work from home for a consulting company anyway.

Surprise snow days were the best — and the rarest. I’d fall asleep thinking I had to get up and go to school the next day but instead I’d wake up to an entire free day. A day that I didn’t expect to have. It was like a gift of 8 hours. I could do whatever I wanted to do. I could go back to bed if I wanted to — but never did because sleep would be a waste of all that free time.

Snow days that were not a surprise were wonderful too because of the anticipation. Would school be called off? Should I do my homework/grading? Of course when school was not canceled it was a real disappointment; but if it was canceled the day belonged to me.

Once my kids were in school I’d vicariously feel their delight when they heard that school was called off. I even sometimes wore my own pajamas inside out and backwards to help with the cancellations. There’s not much more pleasant than bedhead, giggly, happy children with visions of a long lazy day ahead of them, while fat flakes of snow fall from the sky.

It’s snowing today and is supposed to continue snowing through tonight and well into tomorrow afternoon. The National Weather Service is calling for 20 – 28 inches around the DC Metro area. The local citizens are calling this a snowpocalypse on social media sites. Local schools are closed or closing early. The federal government will close 4 hours early. Neighbors tell me that the milk is sold out at the local grocery stores. We’ve got enough food to last the few days it will take to shovel us out. I sincerely hope we don’t lose our power though — we don’t have enough wood to keep us warm.

I’ve not been watching the local news recently — I spent a lot of time preparing for my book group — but I know they’ve probably been talking this snow up. And I bet that if I turned the television on right now I’d see a chilly TV news personality standing on some street corner talking about the snow. In a few hours they will have rulers to measure the snow. As corny and predicable as they are — I find them endearing.

So even though I still have to work and even though my day is not any more free than it would have been had it not been snowing, I’m getting that warm, fuzzy, happy feeling I remember from my younger days.

Carl and Me

Memories, People

I’d forgotten about my reverence for Carl Sagan until my daughter played a mash-up video for me. I think I’d seen the video before, but her excitement about Carl Sagan brought back memories of my excitement about the man.

I must have liked his series, Cosmos, or something. I don’t remember why I liked him so much. It might have been because I was teaching science at the time and especially liked astronomy. I don’t even remember what decade it was, although the 1980’s is a safe bet. It could have been the 1990’s but I don’t remember having kids when he was my hero.

Anyway, whenever it was, I thought he was a demi-god and when I heard he was going to be at an event on the Mall, I made sure we went too. The event was commemorating the 1963 march on Washington — one of the half-decade anniversaries — probably the 25th because we would have had both Clare and Andrew by the 30th anniversary.

I had pretty high expectations back then. I assumed that since Carl Sagan was going to be on the Washington Mall, I would see him. He may have talked, I don’t know. Probably. He was famous and all. We’d planned on meeting up with friends but, in the days before cell phones, never connected. There were a heck of a lot of people there.

While listening to one speaker I looked up and realized I was standing next to Betty Thomas. And when I say up I mean UP. She is very tall. (Since Hill Street Blues ended in 1987, I’m more and more sure this event was in the 1980’s). Betty took no notice of me, but I felt like this was really an event since she was just part of the crowd.

Later, Dean and I walked around. I politely took,  and mistakenly looked at, a pamphlet from someone who was part of an organization I’d not heard of: PETA. No more meat for me until 1990 when I became pregnant with Clare.

We continued walking and saw a crowd of people ahead. As we got closer, I saw that the crowd was gathered around a dark haired man. As we got even closer I realized it was Carl Sagan. I stood on the outskirts of the crowd, wanting to tell him of my admiration, but being too afraid. He smiled and walked and talked with the crowd. I looked away and began walking — perhaps trying to find Dean or maybe just following him. I looked down at the ground — it was crowded. I didn’t want to fall. I bumped into someone. Looking up I saw I’d bumped into Carl Sagan. I muttered my apologies and ran away, heart beating faster than it probably should.

So, that’s the story of Carl and me.

Here’s the mash-up video if you have not seen it (I later fell in love with Bill Nye):

He painted clothespin men…

Memories, Things

I’ve written a bit about Jeremy here and there. We met on a student exchange. He lived in Yorkshire and I lived in Illinois. We were friends for several years and even talked of marrying someday. We visited back and forth for several years.

On one of his visits to Elgin we picked up a clothespin ornament kit from Lee Wards. It held paint, a paintbrush, clothespins, glue and felt as well as directions on how to assemble the ornaments. One evening — the evening before he was to go back to England — we assembled the ornaments.

Now if it were me, I would have made the faces basic. Two dots for the eyes, one dot for the nose and a curved line for the mouth. Not Jeremy. He was an artist. He gave the faces large, expressive eyes. He gave the faces freckles and cheekbones that blushed. He made even added knees to some of the ornaments. Arms occasionally wore wristwatches.

Being the not-an-artist of the pair I was assigned the task of gluing the felt clothes to the clothespin people — which turned out to be quite fun. We pretty much stayed up all night, but the results were awesome.

Jeremy fashioned several of the clothespin people after people in his life. Strangely, I was not turned into a clothespin person. Nor was my mom. But the rest of the family was as was his family. A couple times over.

He made a nurse that actually does look like his mom and a doctor that looked like his dad. His dad was also the hiker and I think Mrs. Claus was his mom. He made a policeman that could have been his brother Nick who was trying to become a British Constable. He made a cowboy that looked like my cousin Bob who was living with us at the time and who made our life a little hellish at times. He made a boy scout for my brother Kevin and a sailor for my dad. And no relation, but a common interest — the lumberjack held a bra (it since has been mostly lost).

A couple of years ago, after a decade or two of hinting, my mom finally gave me the ornaments and yesterday I put them on the tree.

The video below is about the artist L. S. Lowrey — an artist Jeremy introduced me to. The song was popular back then. Whenever I think about my clothespin men and women I think about this song.