As I'm sure I've mentioned, I grew up in a small New England town. I could always tell when there was going to be a snow day.
Its funny to think about it now, so long ago ...
I would lay in bed, it would be the middle of the night. I'd turn my head toward the window and watch the intesity of the reflection from the street light off the snow. Depending on the brightness of the reflection, told me, without looking out the window, if there would be a few hour delay or a few feet of snow that would shut down school for days.
I miss snow. I miss those days.
I'm looking forward to ... no, absolutely excited to introduce my children to what is the most peaceful silence in the world.
The morning after. The silent peace before the snow plows went over the streets, before the sanders came out. The white virgin snow that was begging to be walked in, jumped in, and thrown.
Digging the snow tunnel, the vicious snow ball fight, waiting for the school bus once the roads were clear.
Ah, reality. :)
Now I just have to get out of Texas.