Reporting live from the aftermath of Storm Jonas!
When a storm is predicted I get these grandiose ideas of accomplishments. I listen to friends who plan to cook up a storm — enough for an apocalypse or a month (whichever comes first). Others intend to read books (notice the plural). Or maybe play games with the family. So what do I do? I am fixated with news reports on the TV. Endlessly! I watch over caffeinated newscasters put rulers in the snow – 2”, wahoo! 4” yippee! 2 feet, aw s*@t (hey, we have to shovel this stuff!)
I have one set of “snow” clothes. All high-end stuff from LL Bean, Lands’ End and Eddie Bauer. (No I do not look like a cool skier. Most of it is 20 years old. I look like the Michelin tire man.) I wear it once a year for about an hour or two while I shovel my way to the bird feeders. The beloved husband does the boring chores like shoveling the driveway. I bought him snow pants several years ago. That was my contribution to major shoveling.
Food? Forggetaboutit! I made spaghetti. With bottled sauce. Took 20 minutes. Any thoughts of spending time creating vats of sustaining edibles were eliminated by my need to check the TV (see first paragraph). There is not even a brownie in sight. (Where are those damn girl scouts when you need them?)
I worry about the wildlife. Obsessed is a better word. Yes, they have survived storms for millennium without me but now I’m here. Will my little cardinals have enough to eat? How about those frisky squirrels that are so entertaining? More birds die from lack of water so I stoke up my heated bird bath. They enjoy pooping in there too. I clean it out hourly. (Did you know that eating crab apples makes the poop red?) Damn birds!
Once the snow stops it’s all over for me. I want everything to go back to normal…immediately. I have no patience for dirty snow and the humongous snow banks that are erected at intersections. I cannot see around those dirty humps and they last until May!
Obviously I need to live in the tropics where all the ice is in the margaritas!