Tales From The Tomerosa: Home School Snow Day!!!

There's No Such Thing!

We're already home, so why would the latest snowpocalypse cause us to throw our schedule out like a shovelful of discarded snow? However, eight inches of fresh powder overnight on top of the four inches that we ignored yesterday made for a delayed start.

I kickoff every day with a tortuous round of Pilates. Nothing says "I love you" to your physiological well-being like torturing every muscle group in one's body. It seems that I truly care. As I finished minute thirty of my daily muscle shaking agony, I stood up and peered out the widow. And in doing so I beheld this morning scene:

As I turned my attention down toward the end of our farm, I noticed that my neighbor's Sprinter work van was precisely ensconced in the snow. It was lodged in such a way that the air around the van was a pretty blue hue from the uttered oaths he expelled as he was shoveling around his immobile tires. I assume much in thinking that his utterances were oaths, but the idea of expressed vulgarities is so much more poetic when one uses flowery language to describe its utilization.

My husband expressed some of the same oaths, of that I am sure, as he fought to get his form into his insulated coveralls. He is a very adept at plowing snow, and can spin our forty-two horse John Deere tractor with a graceful, diesel-aroma tinged finesse through all manner of snow. He's still outside as I type this, crafting trails for us to traverse for ingress and egress, and creating huge snow piles for potential igloos of awesomeness.

After feeding the frolicking horses; the kids and I grabbed our snow shovels and proceeded to remove the snow from all the pertinent winter paths that surround our abode. One trail to the woodshed. Another path to the shop, and so on. I looked at the roof with a bit of trepidation, for if we get much more snow, I think the three of us will be taking a trip to roof-land for snow removal. Seven years ago I had to shovel off six feet of snow, TWICE! Although, if I am honest, jumping off a roof into ten or more feet of snow is pretty much one of my favorite winter things ever!

After finishing the woodshed path, my daughter threw herself into the powder. Of course my son and I proceeded to ensure that she was buried alive by enough powder to sufficiently keep her carcass fresh for winter. She arose like an irritated Yeti, and in a huff, built a snow volcano as an artistic impression of her righteous anger. The need for the volcano to have a real eruption was promtply realized, and the depletion of my baking soda, white vinegar, and food coloring stock was achieved. Of course my children picked yellow and red as the colors of their lava, literal in their sweet nature's they are, and in all of the pictures that I took, it looks like we all eliminated waste in a liquid form at every opportunity. This is why I keep pets, you can blame them for things.

Aside from more snow being thrown at me, the next thing that we became aware of was the prickly Polynesian made a general announcement that he needed all manner of fuel, both diesel and gasoline. I find this funny, as I tend to be the prepper of the family. If a storm is forecast, I run around making sure that I have water in case the power goes out, everyone is showered, laundry and dishes are done, etc... What I am not is a person that nags other people, for I take sheer joy in watching procrastinators deal with something that they should have dealt with earlier. My mirth grows when I witness a family member's irritation at preventable inconvenience. Don't think too ill of me; I usually have hot cocoa and some form of treat waiting as a balm for that poor, tortured soul.

We haven't drove our Suburban Buelah for awhile, so there might have been a couple of feet of snow adorning her battleship grey form. My son proceeded to climb atop her mighty steel roof and began to remove the white crystals that tarnished her strong lines. I have a border collie mix dog, Chuck, who's sole source of joy in the winter is to try to bite every throw of snow that you hurl with the shovel. It's cute the first time. The seven-thousandth time, not so much. He really got a workout as the boy on the roof rained white shovelfuls down upon him. Eventually that boy flew off of the roof and landed in the large pile of powder that he had created.


Chuck couldn't bear to watch the boy fly through the air, eyes closed he waited for any flicked snow to come his way for a vigorous snapping. Also, that is the remnants of the volcano, not eliminated waste. No Hawaiians were harmed in any of these pictures. I feel for the snow though...

So, after feeding, shoveling, plowing, volcano construction and eruption, roof parkour, and even more shoveling we finally started school for the day. After some restorative hot cocoa and Rice Krispie treats of course. The first vocabulary word that my daughter had to define was "wistful". I caught her staring at her sled propped against the fir tree outside the dining room window. I think she understands the meaning of the word.

Every photo in this post was taken this morning, with my "terrified it was going to be dropped in the snowy depths" iPhone.