Snow Days, Small Moments

Rumors of a winter storm were creeping into every conversation and newscast; emails about E-learning permeated our inboxes and students and teachers alike grew quite hopeful that this snowstorm would actually surmount. The crazy thing about Indiana is they could predict 1 inch and we'd get 30; they might encourage us to hunker down for nothing but a meager frost. 

Much to our surprise and excitement, the phone call came on Tuesday evening: School is closed. We packed up our Settlers of Catan board and headed to Ross and Reyna's, thankful that 8pm on a Tuesday was no longer a school night. Reyna pulled off a surprising "dub" with a last-minute Victory Card pickup and we celebrated with Steak 'N Shake milkshakes, eagerly anticipating whatever weather may come. 

Strangely, Wednesday brought a warm rain akin to early April days. It rained and rained, so much that puddles flooded into rivers that ran Nile-like toward the parking lot drain. "It'll freeze," they kept saying, "Just wait," so we kept waiting. By 4:00, it had still only rained and we had gotten a snow day called for a day-long drizzle.

But by 7:00, as stir fry steamed on the stove, the temperature began dropping and we could see the reflective sheen of what once had been rain slowly turning to a slippery solid. Ice had come. Snow fell too, but only enough that you could see what cascaded in front of the glowing streetlight. Nothing more. We watched four episodes of Friday Night Lights and fell asleep soundly...

Only to be awoken around 7:30 by the barreling crash of snow plows who would drop their plow against the ice and desperately scrape the immovable igloos covering cement. Snow fell heavily and the world appeared to be a blanket of white. Joe and I submitted our school assignments and then relaxed, fumbling around for productivity almost like we did back in the quarantine days. Clean out closets. Check. Organize bookshelf. Check. Make a to-do list with both of these items written on it only so we can cross them off and feel good. Check. I think only a few will understand that feeling, and my husband certainly doesn't, but there's something satisfying about crossing things off a list, so why not add already-completed tasks to the list?

We played Monopoly Deal and baked bread, took a snow hike and cooked actual real-life gluten-packed non-Whole30 meals. It was restful and full of recovery, a deep breath after another long hard sprint that is teaching. 

There's no message or moral here, nothing to preach or practice. But it's day three of being snowed in and I like to remember the little moments. It reminds me of yesterday when Joe asked what my favorite part of marriage was - I racked my brain for all the big and beautiful trips and meals and parties, only to hear him say that his favorite part was holding my hand. Eight months of marriage and it's not so much about the hills or the valleys as it is the walking in between. 

I've loved the honeymoon and the Thanksgiving dinners and the six-month anniversary Texas Roadhouse run, but I've also loved the morning coffee sipping over Scripture and the way he puts his arm around me at church during worship. I've loved the walks to Cool Creek and the hamburger helper heaping he served me after school. Snow days and noticing those little moments more. If we try it, I think we'd find an awful lot to be thankful for.