Now in my second decade as a Texan, I still find myself among the most grateful for our temperate weather. In my glee over this near-perpetual warmth, I’d almost forgotten the sweet surprise of snow days, or in our case this year, ice days.
We called them snow days — our ears were tuned in to the radio early in the morning then, we watch the cable streamer nowadays — and waited to hear if through God’s own hands, the routine of the week would just stop.
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