There's No Day Like Snow Day(s)...

Unless it's a Rain Day.

Thursday, you sweet sweet vacation extender, you.

Krystal: Being teachers, there's nothing like the first snow day. As soon as the temperatures had dipped below freezing, heck, way before that, we had placed a bet about which day of this sure-to-be-too-long winter we would have our first snow day. We both had confidently picked days in mid-December, hopeful that we would have just one before vacation. December flew by, vacation arrived and life was good.

Kate: We were starting to have visions of being on the beach mid-June as opposed to early July and really believed that the Almanac’s prediction of the coldest and snowiest winter in years was false. Then came Hercules. Typically, I would never want a snow day on a Thursday; it’s the best day of the week for me at school, and it means the weekend is close by. Something about returning to school on a Thursday, post New Year’s really did seem awful though, so I was secretly hoping we could have just one more day and return Friday for one fast-paced day before the weekend came. When the news hit that our wish had come true, I knew that I had to do something productive with my bonus hours (since I hadn’t in the week and a half prior, really).

Krystal: God forbid she sleep until noon and lay around in sweatpants all day (My not so secret wish for just about every non-work day…)

Kate: It was time to get down to business. Only after a trip to the gym and some snow day pancakes of course.

This is how I roll.

Krystal: The gym- Ew. The pancakes- yum! But the pressure to perform got the best of me, and I too decided to be productive. I spent the greater part of my room pulling things...all SORTS of things out of my overflowing drawers. I started with my tights- a collection of over 40 that I am overly impressed by. I’ve heard word that teachers shouldn't wear colored tights- it’s a young look to be sure. But as I rolled each and every pair of my rainbow colored leg coverings, I felt supreme vibrancy and started plotting outfits.  

Kate: I had a mission: mop the kitchen floor. For some, this might not be a big deal. Enjoyable perhaps even. But I have never classified myself as a cleaner. I didn’t get the clean-gene. As an almost 35 year old, I figured it was time to start seeing what this hard-core cleaning thing is about.

Krystal: I still have almost five years before this urge is liable to strike...

Kate: I had good intentions a couple of months before when I actually bought a new mop. I conveniently “couldn’t find the time” though before now, what with having to be places like Live Juice, Hermanos, Bagel Works, Portsmouth, and Boston. It’s hard being a socialite (said in sarcastic tone).

First, I busted out the vacuum for a pre-cleaning of the floor. I even moved the baker’s rack that probably hasn’t been moved in years (Kell, you can attest to this). I moved furniture out and was ready to go. And go I went. After about 5 minutes of some intense scrubbing, I was starting to sweat, so off went one layer of clothing.

Would Martha clean wearing this?

Krystal: This is around the time that I snuck out of my room to see what the heck was going on out there...and HAD to snap a picture. The sight was priceless, but I couldn’t sit around and watch; I promptly ran back to my room in case she asked me to help scrub something.

Kate: I was like Cinderella, if she had just come from the gym.

Krystal: I was like the mouse that hides from the evil cat. You know, that fat one...Gus Gus.

Kate: I was feeling so accomplished once the kitchen was done that I moved on to the bathroom. I hadn’t committed to this in my mind once starting because the bathroom in our apartment can be a scary place. It really is true what they say about just starting something though because it gave me the momentum to keep going.

Meanwhile, Krystal was still “organizing tights”. - I knew exactly what she was doing. I mean she does have a lot of tights, but over an hour’s worth???

Krystal: To be fair, I unloaded many drawers...my numerous scarf drawers, my strapless bras and shoe laces drawer, and my broken necklaces, contacts, kitschy buttons, and tacks drawer….all needed to be cleaned, I assure you.

After hours of scrubbing on Kate’s part and hours of avoiding scrubbing on mine, we decided to hose off and take our show on the road. A quick trip to Live Juice for some sustenance and a chilly shuffle down the street to True Brew Cafe, and we were about to do the thing we had talked so long about doing. We started this here blog!

******

There has since been another snow day on Friday- snowy, frigid and wholly uneventful.  

Kate: Unless getting your car door handle replaced is an event.

Krystal: And getting Beauregard, my devilishly handsome 2008 Honda Civic, a little oil jobby and inspection…

Kate: Thank God we had the weekend to relax after all of that. A trip to Portsmouth was just what we needed to get out of the house and mentally prepare for the inevitable return Monday.

Krystal: With my bags by the door, my “I’m such a rebel” nose hoop safely resting in a drawer and replaced with my “I’m a teacher” stud, and my back to school outfit laid out, I went to sleep promptly at 10:15 PM- ready to get back to this teacher thing once and for all.

Kate: Except that didn’t happen. A rain day, however, did: freezing rain, light rain, heavy rain. Rain of all kinds. Which brings us to the present.  

Krystal: Which was, I suppose, a present. Because on this day, the words they were a flowin’. 

You’re welcome.