Snow days make me homesick. It’s counterintuitive, because I probably see more snow in one winter in Vermont than I saw in my entire childhood in North Carolina. But maybe because of that, the snow days in Charlotte seemed more special. There weren’t that many of them.

My brother and sister and I couldn’t wait to patch together whatever snow-ready gear we could find in the hall closet and get outdoors. Our dog, Neal, would already be tearing around the back yard in giant excited circles. My mom would be standing by to put everything in the dryer so that we could go out back in still-warm layers as soon as the hot chocolate was finished. You had to have all the fun as quickly as possible, because that snow would be gone in a day.

In Vermont, you can play in the snow pretty much any time you want. On a snow day, John’s more excited to have a whole morning in pajamas than he is to burst outside. And I don’t get snow days, since my access to my office is completely unimpeded by whatever weather we’re having outside. So we’re excited to see the snow, but it’s not quite the same.