The Weather Channel meteorologists predicted serious snow for last night into this morning. We didn’t get any snow but sleet and freezing rain fell for hours. I want a job where I can be wrong all the time! Freezing rain can be treacherous. Instead of 4 inches of easily removed snow we got 1 ½ inches of compact sleet and frozen rain. All of the schools in the area naturally closed for the day. A Snow Day. “So what …?” You are no doubt asking yourself. “Jeff doesn’t go anywhere anyway, certainly not to school, what does a Snow Day mean?”
Today would have been my first virtual help session with the handful of AP physics students at my school. These AP students take their class over the internet with Virtual High School (VHS); I am not their regular teacher. The school and I have set-up webcams at each end, one in a computer lab at school and one attached to my laptop at home. We’d previously checked out the quality of the connection and the video is clear enough at each end that we can make drawings and write equations that are visible to the other end. We were all set to go. So today is a true Snow Day for me. Tomorrow the physics students and I will try again; our experiment in remote tutoring will begin.
A snow day traditionally means two things. Firstly, I don’t go to school: done. Secondly, I shovel snow: also done. The snow in this case is the 1 ½ inches of nasty, heavy, sticky, wet sleety mess on the driveway. Our driveway will not be ignored. Some can simply drive their cars onto the thin icy layer and wait for Mother Nature to warm up and melt off the slush. Our driveway is steep. If it is not well cleared it is a bobsled run. I spent my afternoon shoveling a section and then spreading a sand/salt mixture. After completing 4 sections I was done.
Right in the middle of section 3 I had an epiphany. When I was a young father I could shovel snow all day; relentless vigorous shoveling. Our sons would, of course, join me (they have a Snow Day too) and when they were small their enthusiasm outstripped their productivity. Now, our boys are tall, strong, rational and tireless. They are both elsewhere too. I, on the other hand, pause frequently to rest and assess my slow progress. I wonder if there are some corners I can cut. It is ironic that our culture encourages our children to move out, on their own, just as they become really useful. I miss them for many more reasons than just their strong backs.
Many have asked about our sons, Robert and David, and their adventures in travel and education. Expect an accounting of their recent experiences in my next entry to this blog.
