As I write this, it’s the middle of February, and while I long for spring, there’s something else I could really use right now.
A big, honking snowstorm.
Yeah, I know. We complain about it when it snows.
We shovel it.
We hoard food when it’s about to happen.
And, as I mentioned, we complain about it.
While we’ve had some small snow showers this year, we haven’t had a big one since 2010—the kind that forces your whole family to stay inside, drink hot chocolate, and play games together.
Well, that’s what I want it to be like…
As I recall, the last time we had Snowmageddon, I was thrilled that my husband was getting a day off. You have to remember that this was all before COVID—now, we’ve been working from home together for a year, so we’ve established a pattern of when and how to talk with one another. Because we are, you know, actually working.
But there was a time when it wasn’t like this—like during Snowmageddon.
Brad got one day off for the storms. Then he got another and another and another…
Normally, I would have relished this. It would be great! We could watch movies and play with the dogs in the snow. And snuggle up with cups of cocoa.
But that year we couldn’t. Why? Because I had to work. (He couldn’t work from home yet. So let me give you a perfectly clear picture—I was working, but Brad wasn’t. Get it? Good.)
Pre-pandemic, folks used to think that “Working from Home” was a fun place where you sit around and watch TV while eating bon bons. It was a place where you could do whatever you want and, if you really need to, take a couple of hours and get work done. It was a place where you could stop at any moment to take care of anything else going on in your family, with your friends, or in the world.
As many people now know, this is so not true.
During one of the huge snows in 2010, I had to write some stories, do some work, meet some deadlines…
My husband was okay with that. He understands what I do. He’s a great guy.
Until he kept sticking his head into my office to ask me things…
“Hey, did you know that the governor just said that no one is allowed to go out on the roads? I couldn’t go to work if I tried.”
Great.
“I might go down the basement and play my guitar for a while. Unless you’re finished. Are you finished yet?”
Um, no. That’s why I’m still sitting at my desk.
“You should see all the TV reporters who are out there in the snow reporting from all over. I wonder how they got there. Do you know how they could get through this mess?”
I don’t know. Perhaps they strapped the body of their spouse to the front of their car to use as a plow…
Okay, I didn’t say that. But I thought it.
This went on for a few days. Finally, on the last day, I had finished my work and could take the afternoon off.
I was ready to go out into the snow. I had seen it, but I hadn’t had the chance to go play in it. And I love playing in the snow with dogs…and people too.
Turns out, my husband had been outside with our furry family members already that day, and he was cold and tired. He wanted to stay in and rest.
Seriously? Well, I had some work I could get ahead on…
You know that thing I said in the beginning about wanting a snowstorm? Forget it.
I miss watching hummingbirds at the feeders.
I miss longer days.
I miss being out in the warm sun.
All hail Spring!
Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not wishing for snowstorms and then whining about it not yet being Spring, writes Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning humor book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.
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