In the small city in New Hampshire where I grew up, we would get a lot of snow in the Winter. Each Winter, we would get a handful of “snow days” off from school when enough snow fell overnight to make it difficult for the school buses to pick up kids and drive them to school.
When the school district would cancel school for the day due to the snow, we would hear a loud foghorn blast several times at 6am. Of course, the announcement would run across the screen on the local news that morning, but hearing the foghorn meant we didn’t need to get out of bed early for school.
When the meteorologist predicted several inches of overnight snowfall, I would set my alarm for 5:58am to wait for the foghorn. I was superstitious, so I didn’t just look out my window to see if enough snow fell – I eagerly awaited the blast of the foghorn. We didn’t live close to the downtown area where the foghorn was located, so we had to listen intently to hear it…
Each morning as my wife and I wake up, I feel the nearly the same excitement I felt as a kid before jumping on my phone or laptop to check my email. I eagerly await incoming offer emails, closed deal emails, responses from domain registrants, Escrow.com status updates, auction status updates, and every other bit of possibly good news. Sometimes checking my email is like hearing the foghorn, and other times it’s a big letdown.
I am sure the foghorn is long gone in my hometown. These days, we receive a phone call with a voice message if school is closed due to the snow. My kids get excited at the prospect of a snow day in the Winter. I get that same feeling pretty much every day after I wake up.
Looks like it was the noise of the “boo-dang” fire horn rather than a foghorn. We always called it the foghorn though.
When I hear the foghorn early in the morning, it means the ferry is good to go and the weather will be nice.
Best of all,it means my hearing is still good which means life is good ๐๐
Love living near the water,the smell of fresh clean ocean air
When I was a kid, my Dad and I drove from NYC to New Hampshire so I could visit one of the country’s hoity-toityest highfalutin highbrow boarding prep schools I was applying to at the time, St. Paul’s. A beautiful student girl escorted us around, which was great and not how they did it at any of the other ones I visited. What a beautiful part of the country. So clean it was like you could eat the snow even off the street in town. We caught a super famous movie there at a local theater during the visit, but I don’t want to date myself by saying which one. ๐
I had to stop sleeping with my phone beside me because I would instinctively check my phone when I would wake up in the middle of the night.