Hope: the night before
Obsessive checking of the weather. Constant chat on WhatsApp. Mentally listing all the things you can ‘get on with’ if you have a day at home. Relentless running to the window to check the weather.
It’s 6.15am. There’s a disappointingly inconclusive layer of snow. The Schools Closure website shows no schools closed. Refresh obsessively. You just need one hero head teacher to take the plunge and they’ll fall like dominoes. C’mon!
Stay in bed. Stay in bed. Stay in bed. Wait for text from school. Stay in bed. Shove wellies over pjs to de-ice the car. Refresh page. Check work emails. Text colleagues.
‘Surely they won’t make us go in when there’s MASSES/dusting of snow on the roads?’ Fake news of car pile-ups surface on WhatsApp. It’s irresponsible! This is the stage at which you may well reluctantly start putting your bra on.
School’s closed! Wild dancing. Disbelief. Euphoria. Delight.
Everyone’s in bobble hats and laughing like goons and the world is white and quiet and full of play.
You’ve stayed out too long. Gloves are lost. Snow’s gone down collars and up sleeves. You bundle everyone in.
Steaming gloves and boots in puddles
Kids watch crap whilst you look at everyone’s snow pics on social media.
You’re ready to go out again. Gloves are warm and damp from three hours on the radiator. You feret in the downstairs cupboard for old coats and miscellaneous gloves.
Alex has had his wellies parcel-taped to his trousers to stop the snow falling in. He’s wearing slipper socks for gloves. As am I.
Early to Bed
Hot chocolate. Hot water bottles. Bed.
Dreaming of just one more snow day…