Window Shopping, Michael Bedard, 1970

In the run-up to Sunday evening’s rock concert, Anne had been busy fretting about how she would ever be able to cover all of the curriculum that she wanted to, before Christmas break. Especially, if there were any scheduling impacts, like due to weather. She must have been communicating some of her concerns to her colleagues, because one of them remarked that they would have thought that a long-term substitute would gladly welcome any snow days. That person had not reckoned with Anne’s dedication. Another teacher observed on Facebook, that the combination of a full moon, followed by Friday the 13th, followed by the week before Christmas, is what we call a teacher’s true-terror trifecta.

After the concert, as soon as we were safely home, Anne received a text from her principal, announcing today’s school cancelation. Snow Day! This seemed a little surprising, since the roads were not that bad, but who am I, the retired guy, to complain? My commute is only from the bed to the couch. The un-shoveled U-City sidewalks were treacherous, but that’s no reason to cancel class, but winter storm Finley was not done with us. It snowed almost all day Monday. I won’t bother you with any accumulation totals, besides what’s in a number? Some of my more northern readers would only scoff at the length, I mean depth of our snowfall anyway. Finley seems especially tailored to make I-70 travel difficult and likely won’t even impact any of those snowier than thou sceptics.

Submitting to the inevitable, with her curriculum’s schedule blown out of the water, Anne switched gears from school work to craft work. She has umpteen million projects, all simultaneously underway. She is so busy now that even though she is home for a change, it still feels like I’m home all alone. Oh well, the sun will come out tomorrow.