My wife was snoozing in her kerchief. I was in my cap. Earlier that night, we'd settled in for a long winter's nap.
Then, the phone started ringing.
It was 4:40 a.m.
The Hamilton County Department of Education was calling.
"This is a weather alert message," the voice said. "Schools will be closed on Tuesday."
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Tore open the shutters, wrestled with the sash. (It's old and finicky and sticks a lot.) There on the ground was fresh, fallen snow.
About two millimeters worth.
In that moment, I said some ugly words about Rick.
For the fifth time in six school days, classes have been canceled. As superintendent, Rick Smith has to juggle many factors in closing schools -- bus routes, liability, ice patches in the parking lot, costs of heating the buildings, bus stop temps.
Yet by brunch-time Tuesday, roads were snow-less and fine.
"Why don't they just move summer break to the winter?" my wife asked.
She'd taken off her kerchief, and sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.
"No more snow days," she explained.
Think about it: school gets out at Thanksgiving and doesn't start back until Valentine's Day.
Later that night, I climbed into bed. Put my cap back on.
"But wouldn't you miss the summer break?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "I'm not sure what I was thinking."
I'll tell you: we're going cray-cray from all this winter and too many snow days.
* * *
Thursday night, the Hunter Museum of American Art is hosting a public event on belief in Chattanooga.
It reminds me of a story.
It was several years ago. I was pushing my daughter in a stroller down Frazier Avenue. It was summertime, and the sun was setting. A series of unfortunate events had led me to the emotional trifecta of anxiety, frustration and sadness.
I was in a funk. Hanging my head. My heart was in the gutter. Pushing the stroller, I was staring at the sidewalk, thinking of nothing good.
Then, my little daughter spoke.
"Daddy," she said, "look at the buwds."
(She was having trouble with her r's. Buwds meant birds.)
I looked up. The sky was a royal red of sunset, and a brilliant flock of birds was streaking across the sky.
It was instantly and perfectly beautiful.
Immediately, my heart softened. My mind cleared up. I was seeing the beauty and birds instead of the gutter and sidewalk cracks.
I was looking up at the good instead of down at the bad.
If you go
* What: "Being Faithful in Chattanooga" discussion * Where: Hunter Museum of American Art * When: Thursday, Feb. 26, 6 p.m.
Too often these days, we turn religion into a sidewalk crack. We only see the bad side of belief. Jihadism slashes our headlines. The president reminds us of the violence of the Crusades. We argue and in-fight over this verse or that one.
We forget to look up at the beauty of belief, which has transformed countless lives.
We forget to see the birds of religion, which can be like honey to the heart.
We forget to cherish one another, even those -- especially those! -- who don't believe in religion at all.
"I believe we have much more similarities than differences among us," said Michael Dzik, executive director of the Jewish Federation of Greater Chattanooga.
Thursday night, Dzik and a group of believers and free-thinkers -- Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, atheist and Christian -- will gather to discuss faith in Chattanooga.
The evening -- similar to the popular and free Art+Issues events -- is designed to celebrate similarities in belief while also honoring the ways in which we are different.
"I hope that people gain a greater awareness of all the different forms of life and thought in the city," said Brandon Jones, a leader in the atheist community here.
It's sweetly good to remember that our differences don't have to divide us.
"Rather they give us that much more to talk about together," he said.
Contact David Cook at dcook@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6329. Follow him on Facebook and Twitter at DavidCookTFP.