OT - Story - The Happiest News of All

When I see snow in the forecast, I moan and groan, thinking of
delays, shoveling, lousy driving, shoveling, and the general pain in
the neck factor of having heavy white stuff fall from the sky (and
shoveling). But that is the price of living in New England, and I
love it here so much that a little (okay a lot) of complaining about
snow is fine with me. Besides, I haven't picked up a snow shovel in
twenty years. Bob, the poor misguided fool, loves to shovel.

Sure, we have terrible weather, but we have so many positive things
going on that I really don't want to live anywhere else. Okay, that's
a minor lie - I spent a dreamy half hour looking at real estate
listings in Honolulu the other day right after I paid yet another
$300 bill for a month's worth of heating oil. Surprising Aside:
housing in Honolulu is amazingly affordable compared to Boston.

Back to the snow. We got a couple-three inches of snow yesterday,
and are expecting another half a foot on top of that today.
Normally, that would make for an inconvenience, but by and large,
schools would remain open. But -- the snow is expected to change to
freezing rain, and the forecast says we'll get an inch or two of ice
on top of that wretched snow. Now that is a recipe for fun.

As a "responsible" adult, I keep thinking about the delays in
traffic, the hassle factor in Bob not being able to call on clients,
and the danger involved snow removal and transportation. Invariably,
we lose a few people every time we have a storm of any significance:
older folk who insist on shoveling and young drivers who think that
having an SUV means you can drive as quickly in snow as you can on
dry pavement. (Hint: you cannot. You don't have to crawl along at
10 mph, but you must to slow down)

But the kid in me has one thought - SNOW DAY! The happiest seven
letters in the world for any kid who lives in an area that gets that
particular occasional gift from Mother Nature. Kids who live in
_really_ snowy areas don't get snow days: their towns have decided
that proper snow removal is a much better solution. Kids who live in
warm areas may see only one snow day in their entire educational
careers (and usually for some snicker-worthy amount of snow like a
half an inch). But people in the middle (like us) actually schedule
five snow days into each year's school calendar, and even though we
rarely use them all, they are there waiting, like a little gift you
don't expect, or that savings account with money from your grandma.

As I said, this is a kids' point of view. Parents rightly view snow
days as an incredible hassle, requiring pleading calls to
unsympathetic employers, rearranging of schedules and meetings, and
for some hourly wage parents, a significant loss of money. But I'm
so twelve, I'm eleven; and none of those things really takes away my
feeling of hope and entitlement when I wake up and see snow in the
back yard.

When I was a kid, the news of a snow day was spread in one way: by
listening to a creaky old AM radio station designed for folks in
comas and people over 100 years old. The announcer, a man with the
unlikely name of "Salty Brine" would list all the closings in the
area in the slowest manner possible. It would take that man twenty
minutes to go through the list, and the list was only read once per
hour. Therefore, a snow day didn't mean sleeping in - just the
opposite. You had to get up at some ungodly early hour to listen to
the radio, and if you heard your town's announcement, you had to wait
until the _next_ hour to get your parents to listen and confirm that
you weren't lying.

The technology has changed, you get snow day listings almost
instantly and on demand, poor old "Salty Brine" has long since gone
to the big radio station in the sky and the local radio station now
broadcasts in Cantonese. But that frission of hope and anticipation
remains every time I see a decent amount of snow, and following the
constantly updated list of closings is a rare and exciting treat.

Back in the day, the town where I grew up (coincidentally, the town
in which I still live) was notorious for not closing schools, even
when every other town in the area was closed for _two_ days. We kids
used to discuss a rumor that seemed too ridiculous to be true, but
was it? Supposedly, the Superintendent of Schools would make the
decision based on his dog's behavior. If the dog refused to go out
in the weather, school was cancelled. If Fido went out willingly for
his morning constitutional, thousands of kids would spend a day in
righteous anger and profound disappointment.

Nowadays, there is a formula that is followed when deciding to cancel
schools. It includes the forecast for the rest of the day, road
conditions, what other schools in the area are doing, and the
observations from staff members traveling from out of town. Snow
days are not taken lightly in an era where two working parents are
the norm. But even with all this logic and input, I prefer the "dog
refusing to go out to pee" story better, and secretly hope it's true.

I awoke a little before five this morning, in pain and rather
unsteady on my feet. Snow or no snow, I prepared my Diet Coke and
plopped down at the computer to take my meds. I flipped on the TV
news - as always, the poor schmoe with the least seniority on the
news staff was stuck at a highway rest stop, reporting on the
weather. That person always looks wet and miserable, and can only
report "Yeah, the weather is terrible, and people stopping here for
coffee say the driving is bad." I'm sure it's a cause for a personal
celebration when a news announcer is finally allowed to stay indoors
during a storm, and a new schmoe is picked to hang out at the highway
rest area.

The school closings were crawling along the bottom of the television
screen at only a slightly quicker pace than old Salty Brine from
thirty-five years ago. Perhaps people can't read very quickly, or
the news station is giving people every chance to make sure they
don't miss the name of their town. As the list winds its way past
the "M"s and "N"s, I start to feel that familiar bit of excitement
building in my stomach. (The name of our town begins with a "Q")
Then, when the listing skips directly from "P" to "R" without
mentioning us, my inner child dies a little bit.

Manda comes shuffling up the hall, hoping for good news. She looks
out the bathroom window and reports that there isn't a lot of snow,
and she's not all that hopeful. I tell her to go back to bed, and
I'll let her know if there is any news. Without a lot of enthusiasm,
Manda grabs an extra blanket (that kid must have eight hundred
blankets in her room) and makes that long, slow trip down the hallway
to her bedroom. It's only about a ten foot journey, but at
five-fifteen, it probably seems like the longest mile.

I pull up the regional newspaper's web page. The listings aren't
promising - only 22 closings, and most of them are for Jewish
community centers and schools for the handicapped. My stomach decides
to give up hope. Half listening to the news and half awake, I start
reading about the latest developments in the news, and the disaster
halfway around the world. It barely registers when the anchorwoman
announces that they have just had an "explosion in the number of
school closings, so please pay close attention to the list."

But the statement _does_ register a little in some long unused
portion of my brain, and I refresh the proper web page. All of a
sudden, the 22 closings has indeed exploded to 299 closings. In ten
minutes! I think of their web keyboard person with admiration. With
a trembling hand on the mouse, I scroll down to the "Q" listings.

Ya-freakin'-hoo! The gift from God, the unexpected little holiday
and reprieve from a dreaded chemistry test has appeared: A SNOW DAY!
I am a mature adult (hah), so I didn't shout or make a spectacle of
myself, with only Sophie for an audience. Instead, I went to quietly
make my way down the hall to tell Manda and Bob that school had been
cancelled.

Quiet was the goal, anyway. As I mentioned, I am unsteady on my feet
this morning, and I think I knocked over eleven thousand loud and
echoing items between my den and the bedrooms. I informed Amanda of
the good news, and she cheered quietly before immediately resuming
her snoring. Bob was less pleased. "Why did you wake the kid up?
She could have used the extra rest." (He's never really cheerful
when he first wakes up. Give him a half hour and he'll be the life
of the party, but there's a good reason all three of us head in
different directions when we first wake up)

The mature adult in me starts to resurface. I go grab a banana,
because they're starting to get those nasty brown spots, and I don't
want to have to throw them out. I send an email to a friend of
Manda's, offering to have their kid stay here today while Mom works,
and I boot the protesting little dog outdoors for her morning
constitutional. (What a pity she didn't belong to the superintendent
- we'd have had about three days of classroom time a year)


But the kid in me is singing: an unexpected holiday, a reprieve from
a Thursday spent in drudgery - and coming right on the heels of
Christmas vacation! In my soul, I'm twelve again, and thanking the
Superintendent's dog for whizzing on the dining room carpet instead
of going outdoors and forcing us all into that most unfair of human
conditions: a snow day you deserve but are tragically and
unexpectedly denied.

I'd best eat that last banana - they really are starting to get a bit
overripe. Enjoy your day folks, no matter what the weather.

Snow Day - YAY!

Kathy N-V

P.S.: BTW, I hear that there was a famous radio announcer named
Salty Brine. The one I'm talking about wasn't the same guy. We also
have a local personality named "Uncle Sam." (for real) He's not the
famous one, either. Apparently we do have a lot of kooks who like
taking the names of slightly famous people - most likely because they
won't sue.

Kathy N-V wrote:
I awoke a little before five this morning, in pain and rather
unsteady on my feet. Snow or no snow, I prepared my Diet Coke and
plopped down at the computer to take my meds. I flipped on the TV
news - as always, the poor schmoe with the least seniority on the
news staff was stuck at a highway rest stop, reporting on the
weather. That person always looks wet and miserable, and can only
report "Yeah, the weather is terrible, and people stopping here for
coffee say the driving is bad." I'm sure it's a cause for a personal
celebration when a news announcer is finally allowed to stay indoors
during a storm, and a new schmoe is picked to hang out at the highway
rest area.

I remember Salty Brine. Yikes!

Does WBZ still send Shelby Scott out to the rest stop? Sheesh. I gotta
get me an antenna for the TV so I can watch a professional
schmoe-at-the-rest-stop. WMUR (the only channel I get) uses interns to
do the rest stop shtick.

Arondelle
--
================================================== =========
To email me, empty the pond with a net

Kathy:

Have you ever considered writing a book. Your posts are always a joy to read
as your writing style just sucks me in and makes me want to hear more.

As a kid I lived in a area where we had to have over six inches to get a
snow day so we rarely had it too, but sometimes...... Now I live in Seattle
and when there is a single flake on the road they entire region acts as if
there is 2 feet on the roads. Nobody can drive, the entire places shuts down
and the TV stations cover it like it has never happened before. (We are
supposed to get snow today or tomorrow).

Lara

--
================================================== ===
Check out my eBay auctions under user ID: lutrick
Or click on the link: http://snipurl.com/8fa3
"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
. giganews.com...
When I see snow in the forecast, I moan and groan, thinking of
delays, shoveling, lousy driving, shoveling, and the general pain in
the neck factor of having heavy white stuff fall from the sky (and
shoveling). But that is the price of living in New England, and I
love it here so much that a little (okay a lot) of complaining about
snow is fine with me. Besides, I haven't picked up a snow shovel in
twenty years. Bob, the poor misguided fool, loves to shovel.

Sure, we have terrible weather, but we have so many positive things
going on that I really don't want to live anywhere else. Okay, that's
a minor lie - I spent a dreamy half hour looking at real estate
listings in Honolulu the other day right after I paid yet another
$300 bill for a month's worth of heating oil. Surprising Aside:
housing in Honolulu is amazingly affordable compared to Boston.

Back to the snow. We got a couple-three inches of snow yesterday,
and are expecting another half a foot on top of that today.
Normally, that would make for an inconvenience, but by and large,
schools would remain open. But -- the snow is expected to change to
freezing rain, and the forecast says we'll get an inch or two of ice
on top of that wretched snow. Now that is a recipe for fun.

As a "responsible" adult, I keep thinking about the delays in
traffic, the hassle factor in Bob not being able to call on clients,
and the danger involved snow removal and transportation. Invariably,
we lose a few people every time we have a storm of any significance:
older folk who insist on shoveling and young drivers who think that
having an SUV means you can drive as quickly in snow as you can on
dry pavement. (Hint: you cannot. You don't have to crawl along at
10 mph, but you must to slow down)

But the kid in me has one thought - SNOW DAY! The happiest seven
letters in the world for any kid who lives in an area that gets that
particular occasional gift from Mother Nature. Kids who live in
_really_ snowy areas don't get snow days: their towns have decided
that proper snow removal is a much better solution. Kids who live in
warm areas may see only one snow day in their entire educational
careers (and usually for some snicker-worthy amount of snow like a
half an inch). But people in the middle (like us) actually schedule
five snow days into each year's school calendar, and even though we
rarely use them all, they are there waiting, like a little gift you
don't expect, or that savings account with money from your grandma.

As I said, this is a kids' point of view. Parents rightly view snow
days as an incredible hassle, requiring pleading calls to
unsympathetic employers, rearranging of schedules and meetings, and
for some hourly wage parents, a significant loss of money. But I'm
so twelve, I'm eleven; and none of those things really takes away my
feeling of hope and entitlement when I wake up and see snow in the
back yard.

When I was a kid, the news of a snow day was spread in one way: by
listening to a creaky old AM radio station designed for folks in
comas and people over 100 years old. The announcer, a man with the
unlikely name of "Salty Brine" would list all the closings in the
area in the slowest manner possible. It would take that man twenty
minutes to go through the list, and the list was only read once per
hour. Therefore, a snow day didn't mean sleeping in - just the
opposite. You had to get up at some ungodly early hour to listen to
the radio, and if you heard your town's announcement, you had to wait
until the _next_ hour to get your parents to listen and confirm that
you weren't lying.

The technology has changed, you get snow day listings almost
instantly and on demand, poor old "Salty Brine" has long since gone
to the big radio station in the sky and the local radio station now
broadcasts in Cantonese. But that frission of hope and anticipation
remains every time I see a decent amount of snow, and following the
constantly updated list of closings is a rare and exciting treat.

Back in the day, the town where I grew up (coincidentally, the town
in which I still live) was notorious for not closing schools, even
when every other town in the area was closed for _two_ days. We kids
used to discuss a rumor that seemed too ridiculous to be true, but
was it? Supposedly, the Superintendent of Schools would make the
decision based on his dog's behavior. If the dog refused to go out
in the weather, school was cancelled. If Fido went out willingly for
his morning constitutional, thousands of kids would spend a day in
righteous anger and profound disappointment.

Nowadays, there is a formula that is followed when deciding to cancel
schools. It includes the forecast for the rest of the day, road
conditions, what other schools in the area are doing, and the
observations from staff members traveling from out of town. Snow
days are not taken lightly in an era where two working parents are
the norm. But even with all this logic and input, I prefer the "dog
refusing to go out to pee" story better, and secretly hope it's true.

I awoke a little before five this morning, in pain and rather
unsteady on my feet. Snow or no snow, I prepared my Diet Coke and
plopped down at the computer to take my meds. I flipped on the TV
news - as always, the poor schmoe with the least seniority on the
news staff was stuck at a highway rest stop, reporting on the
weather. That person always looks wet and miserable, and can only
report "Yeah, the weather is terrible, and people stopping here for
coffee say the driving is bad." I'm sure it's a cause for a personal
celebration when a news announcer is finally allowed to stay indoors
during a storm, and a new schmoe is picked to hang out at the highway
rest area.

The school closings were crawling along the bottom of the television
screen at only a slightly quicker pace than old Salty Brine from
thirty-five years ago. Perhaps people can't read very quickly, or
the news station is giving people every chance to make sure they
don't miss the name of their town. As the list winds its way past
the "M"s and "N"s, I start to feel that familiar bit of excitement
building in my stomach. (The name of our town begins with a "Q")
Then, when the listing skips directly from "P" to "R" without
mentioning us, my inner child dies a little bit.

Manda comes shuffling up the hall, hoping for good news. She looks
out the bathroom window and reports that there isn't a lot of snow,
and she's not all that hopeful. I tell her to go back to bed, and
I'll let her know if there is any news. Without a lot of enthusiasm,
Manda grabs an extra blanket (that kid must have eight hundred
blankets in her room) and makes that long, slow trip down the hallway
to her bedroom. It's only about a ten foot journey, but at
five-fifteen, it probably seems like the longest mile.

I pull up the regional newspaper's web page. The listings aren't
promising - only 22 closings, and most of them are for Jewish
community centers and schools for the handicapped. My stomach decides
to give up hope. Half listening to the news and half awake, I start
reading about the latest developments in the news, and the disaster
halfway around the world. It barely registers when the anchorwoman
announces that they have just had an "explosion in the number of
school closings, so please pay close attention to the list."

But the statement _does_ register a little in some long unused
portion of my brain, and I refresh the proper web page. All of a
sudden, the 22 closings has indeed exploded to 299 closings. In ten
minutes! I think of their web keyboard person with admiration. With
a trembling hand on the mouse, I scroll down to the "Q" listings.

Ya-freakin'-hoo! The gift from God, the unexpected little holiday
and reprieve from a dreaded chemistry test has appeared: A SNOW DAY!
I am a mature adult (hah), so I didn't shout or make a spectacle of
myself, with only Sophie for an audience. Instead, I went to quietly
make my way down the hall to tell Manda and Bob that school had been
cancelled.

Quiet was the goal, anyway. As I mentioned, I am unsteady on my feet
this morning, and I think I knocked over eleven thousand loud and
echoing items between my den and the bedrooms. I informed Amanda of
the good news, and she cheered quietly before immediately resuming
her snoring. Bob was less pleased. "Why did you wake the kid up?
She could have used the extra rest." (He's never really cheerful
when he first wakes up. Give him a half hour and he'll be the life
of the party, but there's a good reason all three of us head in
different directions when we first wake up)

The mature adult in me starts to resurface. I go grab a banana,
because they're starting to get those nasty brown spots, and I don't
want to have to throw them out. I send an email to a friend of
Manda's, offering to have their kid stay here today while Mom works,
and I boot the protesting little dog outdoors for her morning
constitutional. (What a pity she didn't belong to the superintendent
- we'd have had about three days of classroom time a year)


But the kid in me is singing: an unexpected holiday, a reprieve from
a Thursday spent in drudgery - and coming right on the heels of
Christmas vacation! In my soul, I'm twelve again, and thanking the
Superintendent's dog for whizzing on the dining room carpet instead
of going outdoors and forcing us all into that most unfair of human
conditions: a snow day you deserve but are tragically and
unexpectedly denied.

I'd best eat that last banana - they really are starting to get a bit
overripe. Enjoy your day folks, no matter what the weather.

Snow Day - YAY!

Kathy N-V

P.S.: BTW, I hear that there was a famous radio announcer named
Salty Brine. The one I'm talking about wasn't the same guy. We also
have a local personality named "Uncle Sam." (for real) He's not the
famous one, either. Apparently we do have a lot of kooks who like
taking the names of slightly famous people - most likely because they
won't sue.

That brings back such wonderful memories. Snow day! It was like a gift.
Sleep in? No way, there was snow to play in!
It seems there arent snow days much anymore here. They do call school off
for dangerous wind chills, but there is no joy in that. If its that dang
cold the kids cant go outside anyway. We are in a rural area and its just to
much to ask the kids to wait for the bus in temps that will frostbite their
ears and noses in less than 10 minutes.
Ahh the good old days... snow plows creating mountains of snow by the road
to build tunnels and caves for our trolls to live in.
And listening to WCCO radio for the announcements..Dave someone or other
with a voice like gravel, reading the list ... enunciating each name
carefully....the suspence was worthy of a Hitchcock movie...
Thanks for the memorys.
Diana

--
Weird people need beads, too
"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
. giganews.com...
When I see snow in the forecast, I moan and groan, thinking of
delays, shoveling, lousy driving, shoveling, and the general pain in
the neck factor of having heavy white stuff fall from the sky (and
shoveling). But that is the price of living in New England, and I
love it here so much that a little (okay a lot) of complaining about
snow is fine with me. Besides, I haven't picked up a snow shovel in
twenty years. Bob, the poor misguided fool, loves to shovel.

Sure, we have terrible weather, but we have so many positive things
going on that I really don't want to live anywhere else. Okay, that's
a minor lie - I spent a dreamy half hour looking at real estate
listings in Honolulu the other day right after I paid yet another
$300 bill for a month's worth of heating oil. Surprising Aside:
housing in Honolulu is amazingly affordable compared to Boston.

Back to the snow. We got a couple-three inches of snow yesterday,
and are expecting another half a foot on top of that today.
Normally, that would make for an inconvenience, but by and large,
schools would remain open. But -- the snow is expected to change to
freezing rain, and the forecast says we'll get an inch or two of ice
on top of that wretched snow. Now that is a recipe for fun.

As a "responsible" adult, I keep thinking about the delays in
traffic, the hassle factor in Bob not being able to call on clients,
and the danger involved snow removal and transportation. Invariably,
we lose a few people every time we have a storm of any significance:
older folk who insist on shoveling and young drivers who think that
having an SUV means you can drive as quickly in snow as you can on
dry pavement. (Hint: you cannot. You don't have to crawl along at
10 mph, but you must to slow down)

But the kid in me has one thought - SNOW DAY! The happiest seven
letters in the world for any kid who lives in an area that gets that
particular occasional gift from Mother Nature. Kids who live in
_really_ snowy areas don't get snow days: their towns have decided
that proper snow removal is a much better solution. Kids who live in
warm areas may see only one snow day in their entire educational
careers (and usually for some snicker-worthy amount of snow like a
half an inch). But people in the middle (like us) actually schedule
five snow days into each year's school calendar, and even though we
rarely use them all, they are there waiting, like a little gift you
don't expect, or that savings account with money from your grandma.

As I said, this is a kids' point of view. Parents rightly view snow
days as an incredible hassle, requiring pleading calls to
unsympathetic employers, rearranging of schedules and meetings, and
for some hourly wage parents, a significant loss of money. But I'm
so twelve, I'm eleven; and none of those things really takes away my
feeling of hope and entitlement when I wake up and see snow in the
back yard.

When I was a kid, the news of a snow day was spread in one way: by
listening to a creaky old AM radio station designed for folks in
comas and people over 100 years old. The announcer, a man with the
unlikely name of "Salty Brine" would list all the closings in the
area in the slowest manner possible. It would take that man twenty
minutes to go through the list, and the list was only read once per
hour. Therefore, a snow day didn't mean sleeping in - just the
opposite. You had to get up at some ungodly early hour to listen to
the radio, and if you heard your town's announcement, you had to wait
until the _next_ hour to get your parents to listen and confirm that
you weren't lying.

The technology has changed, you get snow day listings almost
instantly and on demand, poor old "Salty Brine" has long since gone
to the big radio station in the sky and the local radio station now
broadcasts in Cantonese. But that frission of hope and anticipation
remains every time I see a decent amount of snow, and following the
constantly updated list of closings is a rare and exciting treat.

Back in the day, the town where I grew up (coincidentally, the town
in which I still live) was notorious for not closing schools, even
when every other town in the area was closed for _two_ days. We kids
used to discuss a rumor that seemed too ridiculous to be true, but
was it? Supposedly, the Superintendent of Schools would make the
decision based on his dog's behavior. If the dog refused to go out
in the weather, school was cancelled. If Fido went out willingly for
his morning constitutional, thousands of kids would spend a day in
righteous anger and profound disappointment.

Nowadays, there is a formula that is followed when deciding to cancel
schools. It includes the forecast for the rest of the day, road
conditions, what other schools in the area are doing, and the
observations from staff members traveling from out of town. Snow
days are not taken lightly in an era where two working parents are
the norm. But even with all this logic and input, I prefer the "dog
refusing to go out to pee" story better, and secretly hope it's true.

I awoke a little before five this morning, in pain and rather
unsteady on my feet. Snow or no snow, I prepared my Diet Coke and
plopped down at the computer to take my meds. I flipped on the TV
news - as always, the poor schmoe with the least seniority on the
news staff was stuck at a highway rest stop, reporting on the
weather. That person always looks wet and miserable, and can only
report "Yeah, the weather is terrible, and people stopping here for
coffee say the driving is bad." I'm sure it's a cause for a personal
celebration when a news announcer is finally allowed to stay indoors
during a storm, and a new schmoe is picked to hang out at the highway
rest area.

The school closings were crawling along the bottom of the television
screen at only a slightly quicker pace than old Salty Brine from
thirty-five years ago. Perhaps people can't read very quickly, or
the news station is giving people every chance to make sure they
don't miss the name of their town. As the list winds its way past
the "M"s and "N"s, I start to feel that familiar bit of excitement
building in my stomach. (The name of our town begins with a "Q")
Then, when the listing skips directly from "P" to "R" without
mentioning us, my inner child dies a little bit.

Manda comes shuffling up the hall, hoping for good news. She looks
out the bathroom window and reports that there isn't a lot of snow,
and she's not all that hopeful. I tell her to go back to bed, and
I'll let her know if there is any news. Without a lot of enthusiasm,
Manda grabs an extra blanket (that kid must have eight hundred
blankets in her room) and makes that long, slow trip down the hallway
to her bedroom. It's only about a ten foot journey, but at
five-fifteen, it probably seems like the longest mile.

I pull up the regional newspaper's web page. The listings aren't
promising - only 22 closings, and most of them are for Jewish
community centers and schools for the handicapped. My stomach decides
to give up hope. Half listening to the news and half awake, I start
reading about the latest developments in the news, and the disaster
halfway around the world. It barely registers when the anchorwoman
announces that they have just had an "explosion in the number of
school closings, so please pay close attention to the list."

But the statement _does_ register a little in some long unused
portion of my brain, and I refresh the proper web page. All of a
sudden, the 22 closings has indeed exploded to 299 closings. In ten
minutes! I think of their web keyboard person with admiration. With
a trembling hand on the mouse, I scroll down to the "Q" listings.

Ya-freakin'-hoo! The gift from God, the unexpected little holiday
and reprieve from a dreaded chemistry test has appeared: A SNOW DAY!
I am a mature adult (hah), so I didn't shout or make a spectacle of
myself, with only Sophie for an audience. Instead, I went to quietly
make my way down the hall to tell Manda and Bob that school had been
cancelled.

Quiet was the goal, anyway. As I mentioned, I am unsteady on my feet
this morning, and I think I knocked over eleven thousand loud and
echoing items between my den and the bedrooms. I informed Amanda of
the good news, and she cheered quietly before immediately resuming
her snoring. Bob was less pleased. "Why did you wake the kid up?
She could have used the extra rest." (He's never really cheerful
when he first wakes up. Give him a half hour and he'll be the life
of the party, but there's a good reason all three of us head in
different directions when we first wake up)

The mature adult in me starts to resurface. I go grab a banana,
because they're starting to get those nasty brown spots, and I don't
want to have to throw them out. I send an email to a friend of
Manda's, offering to have their kid stay here today while Mom works,
and I boot the protesting little dog outdoors for her morning
constitutional. (What a pity she didn't belong to the superintendent
- we'd have had about three days of classroom time a year)


But the kid in me is singing: an unexpected holiday, a reprieve from
a Thursday spent in drudgery - and coming right on the heels of
Christmas vacation! In my soul, I'm twelve again, and thanking the
Superintendent's dog for whizzing on the dining room carpet instead
of going outdoors and forcing us all into that most unfair of human
conditions: a snow day you deserve but are tragically and
unexpectedly denied.

I'd best eat that last banana - they really are starting to get a bit
overripe. Enjoy your day folks, no matter what the weather.

Snow Day - YAY!

Kathy N-V

P.S.: BTW, I hear that there was a famous radio announcer named
Salty Brine. The one I'm talking about wasn't the same guy. We also
have a local personality named "Uncle Sam." (for real) He's not the
famous one, either. Apparently we do have a lot of kooks who like
taking the names of slightly famous people - most likely because they
won't sue.

On Thu, 6 Jan 2005 11:33:00 -0500, Lara wrote
(in message ):

Kathy:

Have you ever considered writing a book. Your posts are always a joy to read
as your writing style just sucks me in and makes me want to hear more.

Now I'm starting to suspect that this is an organized movement - I
get at least one email or posting every day, asking me when I'm going
to write a book. Are you folks speaking with my mother? Or my
sister?

I really am looking into it, but there has to be some legal way to
write a book without endangering my disability. Not just for the
money, but for the health insurance. I cannot get health insurance
on my own, and no book I can imagine would pay for my medical
expenses.

All the pushing you guys give me is bolstering my confidence. I've
always been afraid to pursue publishing my writing for real (as in a
book - I've had a bunch of magazine articles published). The thought
that a publisher would read my stories and tell me they suck has been
a major reason that I never really went after that option. After all,
they're just little vignettes into my not overly exciting (but still
very happy) life. After all, this story was about eating old bananas
and school being cancelled for the day - not exactly world changing
events.

As a kid I lived in a area where we had to have over six inches to get a
snow day so we rarely had it too, but sometimes...... Now I live in Seattle
and when there is a single flake on the road they entire region acts as if
there is 2 feet on the roads. Nobody can drive, the entire places shuts down
and the TV stations cover it like it has never happened before. (We are
supposed to get snow today or tomorrow).

I love that. I have close friends in Portland, and it's the same
situation. Their kids are dying to have me visit, because every time
I've been there (in wintertime, of course), it's snowed and the kids
have had a snow day. Cracked me up, because it was so little snow
that I wouldn't have bothered brushing off my car.

We get the same thing for hurricanes. By the time hurricanes hit New
England, the cold water pretty much takes all the scary out of them.
(There have been exceptions, of course) But if there's a 0.01%
chance we'll see even a raindrop from a hurricane, the news stations
go crazy with "nonstop hurricane coverage."

Oh please.

Kathy N-V

HEE HEE. Nope, I didn't know that you were getting other emails like this,
but I supposed great minds think a like.

Lara

PS - we did get a dusting of snow this am and the news trucks were "covering
the region" like it was the end of the world. OK it was a little icy on the
roads, true.


"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
. giganews.com...
On Thu, 6 Jan 2005 11:33:00 -0500, Lara wrote
(in message ):

Kathy:

Have you ever considered writing a book. Your posts are always a joy to
read
as your writing style just sucks me in and makes me want to hear more.

Now I'm starting to suspect that this is an organized movement - I
get at least one email or posting every day, asking me when I'm going
to write a book. Are you folks speaking with my mother? Or my
sister?

I really am looking into it, but there has to be some legal way to
write a book without endangering my disability. Not just for the
money, but for the health insurance. I cannot get health insurance
on my own, and no book I can imagine would pay for my medical
expenses.

All the pushing you guys give me is bolstering my confidence. I've
always been afraid to pursue publishing my writing for real (as in a
book - I've had a bunch of magazine articles published). The thought
that a publisher would read my stories and tell me they suck has been
a major reason that I never really went after that option. After all,
they're just little vignettes into my not overly exciting (but still
very happy) life. After all, this story was about eating old bananas
and school being cancelled for the day - not exactly world changing
events.

As a kid I lived in a area where we had to have over six inches to get a
snow day so we rarely had it too, but sometimes...... Now I live in
Seattle
and when there is a single flake on the road they entire region acts as
if
there is 2 feet on the roads. Nobody can drive, the entire places shuts
down
and the TV stations cover it like it has never happened before. (We are
supposed to get snow today or tomorrow).

I love that. I have close friends in Portland, and it's the same
situation. Their kids are dying to have me visit, because every time
I've been there (in wintertime, of course), it's snowed and the kids
have had a snow day. Cracked me up, because it was so little snow
that I wouldn't have bothered brushing off my car.

We get the same thing for hurricanes. By the time hurricanes hit New
England, the cold water pretty much takes all the scary out of them.
(There have been exceptions, of course) But if there's a 0.01%
chance we'll see even a raindrop from a hurricane, the news stations
go crazy with "nonstop hurricane coverage."

Oh please.

Kathy N-V

I really am looking into it, but there has to be some legal way to
write a book without endangering my disability. Not just for the
money, but for the health insurance. I cannot get health insurance

Kathy -- what if you donate the proceeds to charity??????

also - might be able to put them into a closed trust fund - for manda --
Cheryl
DRAGON BEADS
Flameworked beads and glass
http://www.dragonbeads.com/

After all, this story was about eating old bananas
and school being cancelled for the day - not exactly world changing
events.

That's what makes your skill so great. Who would think a story about old
bananas and school closings could be so enjoyable? I can't even put my finger
on exactly what it is about the way you write, but I want to read ALL your
stories. I hope you find a way to write books without causing problems for
you. I'll buy them!
Joan Eckard

http://mothwoman.com

http://stores.ebay.com/Mothwoman-Beads-and-Jewelry

http://www.justbeads.com/search/ql.cfm?s=Mothwoman

Mothwoman wrote:

That's what makes your skill so great. Who would think a story about old
bananas and school closings could be so enjoyable? I can't even put my finger
on exactly what it is about the way you write, but I want to read ALL your
stories. I hope you find a way to write books without causing problems for
you. I'll buy them!

I like the idea someone put forward about giving her daughter the
'credit'. She could write them as a journal/diary for her daughter and
let her daughter compile them as a 'life with mom' sort of thing. Then
they could be shared with so many more people!

Polly