It seems like only yesterday that I was gloating about my two whole snow days this year, while complaining about my lack of snow days. For those of you whose Old Mother Hubbard of a school calendar has gone to the cupboard and found it completely devoid of snow days, my apologies. I'm not doing the Eddie Murphy ice cream dance. Really.
Some of you may practice my tactic of sitting around moaning about your bad snow day luck. But one of our own has taken the initiative. A regular pro-active professional educator is she. Sioux is making the choice to go out and grab herself some snow day gusto. Because you only go round once in life. I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't also rubbing a hole in that National Enquirer Lucky Blue Dot.
But surer than even the Blue Dot is Val, Your Go-To Gal for Obscure Getting-Out-of School Tactics. Sioux has come to the right place. Namely, the comments of yesterday's post. She requested advice for a dance to bribe the snow gods. Because I could not do the topic justice in that cold, antiseptic vacuum of a pop-up comment forum, I'm putting it here for all to see.
The Snow Dance. You must remember that the snow gods are showered with a plethora of offerings every year at this time. Promises to catch up on work, catch up on sleep, finish that Great American Novel, be nicer to the students, be tougher on the students, never "forget" another duty, plan lessons more thoroughly, draw up some new seating charts, stop wasting plan time with gossipfests, bring a healthy lunch instead of eating cafeteria food, you name it, they've heard it. The snow gods take a back seat only to New Year's Day for hearing empty promises.
What do you give a snow god who has everything? I think an original interpretive dance is in order. I can't give concrete details. No Arthur Murray footprints on the floor. Each dance should be unique to the dancer. For Sioux, I recommend incorporating the following: full moon, broke-down Crocs, a string of Christmas lights, and her hair, freshly shampooed in a school bathroom sink. Nothing else. Don't upset the snow gods. And don't upset the neighbors. Early morning hours might be appropriate.
Look for other Getting-Out-of-School Tactics in the future. Maybe. As the mood strikes Val, Your Go-To Gal. And feel free to ask for her methods to solve other obscure problems.
Please do not confuse Val, Your Go-To Gal with Backroads Miz Manners. One gives instructions, the other gives questionable advice. If you don't know the difference, stay on the porch, out of the way of the big dogs.