Waiting for Phil

In case you are wondering, Phil is a snow day. He hasn’t come to Weymouth even once this year, though last year it seemed Phil had taken up residence for the season. The name comes from lines in a song Maura sang in her school’s Winter Concert this year: "Snow Day… gonna call him Phil." It’s out of context—Phil is supposed to be the name of a snowman—but it’s fun to tease Maura with it now and then.

I’m beginning to think we might not see Phil at all this year. It’s mid-February already and we’ve hardly had enough snow to build a snowman much less cancel school. Winter is not over but the coldest and snowiest parts of a typical winter will soon be behind us. Maura is disappointed. She looks forward to sleeping in, lying around the house in her pajamas all morning, and dressing in her warm clothes to spend the afternoon playing in the snow with her friend Dominic from across the street.

I’m glad Maura hasn’t missed school this year because of weather but in a strange way I’m disappointed, too. In past years I’ve always enjoyed the surprise vacations I got courtesy of the weather. The storms themselves were exciting and unpredictable but the best part was the extra time I got to spend cuddled up with Maura and (if the weather was particularly bad) Jennifer. We couldn’t go anywhere unless we wanted to drive on the badly cleared roads but there was always time to spend together. We could share a cup of cocoa, play a board game or watch one of our favorite movies on DVD. We’ll have some time to spend together next week when Maura is out of school on her February break. We won’t be cooped up in the house the whole week unless the weather changes. The trouble is vacations are predictable. Part of the charm of a snow day is that it is never expected.

Spring Briefly

Spring came to Weymouth on Friday. It was early and is gone again already. Spring won’t be here to stay for at least another month. Still, Friday was sunny and warm and there had been enough nearly warm days in the previous two weeks to melt the snow from the sidewalks between home and Maura’s school. So for the first time since early December I walked to the school at the end of the day and Maura and I walked home.

I’d wanted to walk for weeks. I’d watched the ice on the sidewalks thin and melt away and the mountains of snow at each intersection and parking lot diminish to hills and then to nothing. When the sidewalks were finally clear enough to negotiate I came down with a terrible cold that kept me inside for four days, too sick to consider a three mile walk in the chilly, if not subfreezing air.

It was luck that the warmest day last week fell when I felt well enough to walk and cooped-up enough that I couldn’t stay in the house any longer, despite a stiff breeze that threatened to steal my hat. It was good to stretch my legs and good to spend some time with my daughter. Maura held my hand on the walk, though she doesn’t have to except at major street crossings. She doesn’t like wind and it gusted strongly enough Friday that I joked about tying a string to her and flying her like a kite. She’s getting so grown up now. She laughed at the joke. Last year she would have taken me seriously.

I’ve really missed the walking since winter started. I won't walk often for a while. Until spring is really here most days it will be uncomfortably cold and sometimes it will be icy. Still, Friday was a taste of what’s to come. I can only look forward to many pleasant walks to school and back, one way alone, the other with the best of company.

Going Downhill Fast

This winter has been tough on Maura and I. We can’t walk to school because the sidewalks are covered with snow. Busy schedules and a lack of funds have often kept us at home even on days when Maura hasn’t been in school. The snow has given one chance we wouldn’t have had without it. When the snow is fresh and the temperatures not too cold we go sledding.

Weymouth is by no means mountainous but it is not entirely flat. We have a couple of good spots for sledding in town and they draw crowds after every snow. Maura and I have been out on the hills almost every weekend this year. It’s snowed with regularity this winter and the snow has piled up on the ground faster than it can melt or be packed down and worn away by the passage of many sleds.

This year has been particularly good for sledding so far. In past years the days with good snow have been very rare. Though we have missed a few opportunities, Maura and I have been sledding almost as many times this year as we had managed in the previous three, and winter is only half over. I imagine we’ll get more chances before spring finally melts the snow.

When we can Maura and I put on our snow pants and boots, put the sled in the trunk of the car and head for the slopes. Maura does most of the sledding these days. When she first got her sled she was three. She used to be afraid to go down the hill by herself and I had to ride down with her every time. These days she has no fear and I mostly watch while she goes down the hill. It is nerve wracking because she is not very good at steering, but in truth, neither am I. We can still fit on the sled together and sometimes she still lets me ride with her. I don’t think that will last much longer. She’s getting too big to ride with her Daddy. I think she only lets me ride with her now because she’s lazy about hauling the sled up the hill and she knows if I go down I’ll bring the sled back up for her. Next year she won’t want to go sledding with me. She’ll probably still be happy for me to take her to the park and stand in the cold watching while she sleds but the days when we can ride down together will be over. I’ll certainly miss it. I enjoy the time I’ve had to spend with my daughter and I like sledding, too. The only parents I ever see on sleds are the ones with small kids. I may never get the chance to go again. I wonder If I’ll still be up to flying down hill when I have grand children.