It sometimes takes a little snow to warm up to learning. Here are some things I discovered over the past twenty-four hours:
1. I wouldn’t make it as a Mountain Man. Sure, I could work up the grizzled beard, the gravelly-voiced mumbling, and a campfire. But all the movies show the solitary outdoors-man tromping around in snow up to his kneecaps. That kicks me right out of the Mountain Man fraternity. Keep your snow. Take my share while you’re at it.
Besides that – where does the Mountain Man get his hot shower? There are few things more enjoyable than standing under that steamy blast when trying to pry the eyes open of a morning. Maybe the Mountain Man dunks his face in campfire coffee, I don’t know.
2. Snow has the effect of placing a red flashing beacon on the roof of any car driven by Joe Knucklehead, or any of his many cousins. When the weather is fair and the pavement is dry, the Knucklehead family tends to blend in until the last minute – when they shoot through a long-red light, make a four-lane U-turn in full-blown traffic, or weave across lines and lanes while texting. In the snow and ice, they are easier to spot – like this morning, when young-knuckle passed me in the opposite direction, grinning like crazy after wrestling his SUV back under control. When I first crept around the icy corner, Little Joe was skating down the street sideways after narrowly missing a curbside mailbox. That’s knuckle fun.
3. There is a distinct pleasure in having a reasonable excuse for a day off. Call it a Snow Day (everyone else does). It’s really a sick-day without the fibbing and the fake-cough-phone-call. It’s an alarm-off dismissal instead of snooze-button. And it’s guilt-free (pretty much). Having a collection of snow on the ground is like an open invitation to craziness; things like hot chocolate at mid-morning, a bundled-up snowdrift romp with the kids, or feet propped up in front of the fireplace. Kids love the snow. I think adults like the scrambling of life’s routines, with minimal consequence. Break out the Yahtzee!
4. It just takes a little accumulation of snow to separate out the human temperate zones. When I finally ventured outside, half-halfheartedly, to clear enough glass to get the car in a drivable state, I discovered my young neighbor happily shoveling the steps leading up to his apartment. Removing the snow was a necessity for him, I suppose, from a safety point of view – but he was clearly ENJOYING it! In fact, when he came over and helped me scrape the ice that I found under the collected snow, he admitted it outright. He likes everything about snow. Walking in it. Shoveling it. Playing in it. All that I dislike about snow (which is almost the entire experience), he treasures as a rare seasonal event. If he had not mentioned snow at the beginning of our conversation, I would have assumed he was talking about sand and sunshine and the Caribbean. That’s MY idea of a rare seasonal event.
And finally:
5. We are prone to taking a good night’s sleep for granted. My first thought at awakening this morning:
Ahhh, that was a good sleep…
Laying there with the quilt pulled up underneath my chin, feeling all warm and rested while sensing the coolness of the room, it was a distinct pleasure to appreciate a soft bed and pillow and a long night of restful sleep. It felt all the better after having spent the previous night trying to sleep atop a half-dozen conference table chairs pushed together in the bookstore. (A sleepover with the giants of literature. Otherwise called fear-of-snow-driving.) Sort of like relaxing for the night on a wooden picnic table, except the chairs scoot around and threaten to open a crevice that would drop a body straight to the floor. It’s too easy to wake up and complain to yourself about the hour, or the day of the weak (day of the week too…), or thirst, or a need to scamper to the bathroom. We take the bed and the sleep for granted, I think. I’m making a snow-pledge right now that I hope will carry over – even through next summer and fall. When I wake up, I’m going to enjoy having completed a night’s respite in a bed. With a pillow.
Personally, I like to learn something new every day, no matter how important or insignificant.
I like it better, though, when I can take my lessons without the snow drifts and ice scraping.
Folks are out and about even though it’s a frosty Saturday! Come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!
