REMEMBER THAT BLISSFUL REPRIEVE, AS A KID, in the aftermath of a big snowstorm? Waking up to find out school was – YAY!! – closed?
We had 24″ of snow here in East Hampton Saturday night – a record for Long Island, according to Newsday. Sunday was gray and surreally quiet. The guy who plowed my driveway cut a wide, brutal swath from road to front door (so much for the carefully sculpted planting beds I’d been laying out). That evening there was an incredible Solstice sunset.
On Monday, I was determined to conduct business as usual. So I went to the gym – the ride took 1/2 hour instead of 10 minutes, over partially plowed roads – and found I was only one who showed up for the 9:00 class. Then I went to the hardware store and found they were out of snow shovels (and had been for days). Then I went to the supermarket, but there were orange cones in front and I was unable to park. Then I came home. It wasn’t very satisfying. So today, Tuesday, I decided to give myself a snow day.
I turned my holiday lights on first thing in the morning. Never got properly dressed, never got in the car. The farthest I went was to the mailbox. I made soup, watched Running with Scissors, filed a few papers. For exercise, I dug a path to the cellar and did laundry. I watched the birds peck away at the seed bell I hung outside my back door. I saw a big brown dog plow chest deep through my backyard, loving it.
The roads are clearer now. Tomorrow it’s back out into the world. I can’t justify a second snow day. Anyway, I’d go crazy.