Today is much like yesterday only a bit warmer. Snow is coming and by tomorrow they predict 3-6 inches, a mere trifle, kick away snow, broom away snow. I have some errands to do which makes it feel like a before retirement Saturday. I think it a bit strange that I could barely wait for the weekend when I was working yet I used to spend all of Saturdays cleaning and shopping.

The birds haven’t yet found the filled feeders. I keep checking hoping to see a chickadee or a nuthatch. I forgot to buy suet so that’s on my list today. Maybe the snow will bring the birds back to their familiar haunts.

We used to spend wintry Saturdays watching TV. Our favorites were on in the morning then we got to watch Creature Feature. I remember sitting on the rug in front of the set. My mother would let us eat lunch watching TV because we mostly had sandwiches which were safe from spills. The milk was another story and my mother never failed to caution us. Most times we’d make two trips: one for the sandwich and the other for the glass of milk. I remember holding the glass against my chest as I walked so any spill would land on my shirt. Holding it only with one hand was the older me.

When I was young, I used to love to read in bed on a rainy Saturday. I think it was because I could feel the rain all around me. I’d hear it on the roof and on the window at the foot of my bed. After the drops hit the pane, they’d drizzle down getting smaller and smaller until I couldn’t see them any more. I still love to read on a rainy day.

A snowy Saturday was for sitting near the window watching the flakes fall. Snow is silent. It hushes and mutes the world. I’d check to see how high the snow was by using the steps as my gauge. When the snow was high enough, we’d go outside and play until we were so cold our whole bodies were red and our lips were blue.

It never occurred to us that we were missing a snow day with a Saturday storm. The snow made the day special, and that was all that mattered.