Snow day. According to Urban Dictionary, one of the most popular public definitions of the term is "An unexpected break. An unexpected escape from it all. A day to relax, not a day to catch up on work".
Let's just take a moment to wipe the tears of laughter from our eyes, shall we? If you own livestock, then that right there is definitely NOT your definition of a snow day.
On a snow day, you get up early. Actually, it's possible you've been up several times during the night. You had to check the waterers to make sure they didn't freeze over. Maybe you never even went to bed because you have several animals who are due to give birth at any moment. You've been watching them closely and made sure those with close due dates were safe in warm pens before the snow began. If you know anything, you know that snowfall and labor go hand in hand. There is always, ALWAYS, at least one momma that decides the middle of a blizzard is the best time ever to have her baby, and she's and are likely to throw a calf with in the middle of a snow bank if you're not watching her like a hawk.
You get the usual morning chores done, but you can't go in and put your feet up yet. You have a load of feed coming in two hours, which means you have to hustle to throw the blade on the tractor and push snow so the semis can get in your driveway. It will take much longer than two hours to really do justice to pushing back the eight inches you got last night. So for now you'll have to start by creating a path for the trucks, then later you'll have to come back out and finish the rest.
By mid afternoon you're back in the barns checking on those snow day babies. Everyone is tucked in tight and warm, so you head back inside to do some book work and tax prep. Tax season seems to come earlier and earlier every year. Your eyes burn as you focus on the numbers - you're feeling that two a.m. herd check now. As you pour yourself another cup of coffee - black - you look out the window and realize the wind has picked up. You know what that means. You shrug back into your coveralls and boots and head out to start plowing again.
Twenty minutes later, you smile from your perch in the cab of the tractor as you watch your kids pile out the front door, arrayed in a multicolored rainbow of scarves, hats, mittens and snowpants. You toot the horn at them, and they all wave, then you see them whoop and holler as they catch sight of the "snow mountain" you've been making them. In two seconds, they're making their way to the top, and you know they'll be sliding and rolling down it until their cheeks are red and their mittens are caked with snow.
When the tractor is stashed safely back in the shed, you head over to check on the new babies again. You feel a sense of pride as you watch a newborn walk on wobbly legs over to nurse. The barn door bangs open and a cold wind blows in as the kids, lobbing one last snowball missile, barge in to oooh and aaaah and the new additions. You glance out the window and realize the light is fading already. Time for supper. With a kid under each arm, you charge for the house, where you know there's a plateful of something warm and good waiting for you.
No, maybe your snow days don't look like the textbook definition. Maybe they're better.