During the winter, I watch the weather forecasts like a hawk. I’m always looking for that next big snow. Last night when the first snowflakes started falling, I actually did a little happy dance, much like our sons did as toddlers when Bill got home from work. They were so happy to see him that they danced by stomping their feet and swinging their arms; and last night I danced like a toddler!
This got me to thinking about why I love the snow so much when so many of my friends dislike it; and in reality, I probably have a lot more reasons than they do to hate it. I grew up on a farm, and no matter how many feet of snow we got, chores still had to be done. I wrapped up in my old work coat, boots, and hat and trudged through knee-deep snow to the barn to feed the baby calves twice a day. On snow days the animals still had to be fed, but I could sleep until 8 AM instead of getting up 5:30 AM. My little calves were bottle fed Purina Nurse-Grow which meant many trips back and forth from the garage to the barn in the snow to access warm water. I don’t remember it being a big deal; it was just part of our day.
What I do remember is the baking! Snow days meant that Mom was home, too, since she was a teacher. And like I mentioned before, farm chores still had to be done, and usually with more difficulty, so Dad was extra busy. He always found time though, to stop back by the house during mid-afternoon to see what yummy concoction Mom and I had created.
Snow days meant experimental baking and trying new recipes, too. One time we made devil dogs, another time donuts, and we often made homemade breads. On snow days our house smelled fabulous!
As a mom, I carried the tradition forward, and the boys and I made cookies between their many trips outside to sled or build a snowman. On snow days Joseph, Daniel, and I didn’t have farm chores to attend to, but we had cookies to make!
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- Do you have fond memories of snow days as a child?
- Do you like to bake?
- Who wants to come eat homemade beef stew with us tonight?
Happy Running! ~ Deb