School cancelled due to ice cream

Do they really expect the kids to be motivated on August 18th? It's hot, it's sticky, it's muggy, even at 7 am when the bus comes. At least out here on the prairie in the middle of nowhere it is.

School, like my writing, is a winter activity. If it can't be done on the bank of a roaring stream, then it should only be done by a cracking fire. For now, the pinnacle of our existence should be nothing more than what flavor of ice cream shall we have today, and maybe choosing between sprinkler or water balloons. Or hammock.


Ice cream requires more than a casually tossed off "chocolate or vanilla?"  Although I'm not one to knock vanilla bean, especially if it's topped with fresh cherries.

But to limit it to chocolate or vanilla is to leave a great deal of life unexplored. Oh no- there's chunky chocolate, there's chocolate marshmallow, there's butter brickle.  And then there's exotic ice cream novelties like drumsticks and fudgesicles and ice cream sandwiches. 

Those little cow ones.  I can eat a box of the cow ones. Why are they skinny cows?  Would you want milk from a skinny cow?  I want a fat, happy cow. After I eat a whole box of these Blue Bells I'm a happy cow!

Please, please school boards, can't we delay learning a little longer?  Instead of reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic, couldn't we have raspberry ripple, rocky road, and rum toffee?

When icy winds shove through every opened door and slap any exposed bare skin, then-then we can huddle by the fire with pen and paper (ok, maybe Ipad and power point) to warm heart and soul with words of insight and inspiration.

But for now... for now I'll have a hammock with a side of chocolate pecan, please.