Well "haayyy thayer y'all!" Here we are in the butt-puckerin' freezin' cold, or as they say in these here parts, fall! You just can't imagine how cold it is here. We have already seen snow. Well, okay, for Jerry, who spent part of his youth growing up in Binghamton, NY, frost, and for a Florida native like me (and Jenda) effing white out! We did actually have some snow the other day. About two inches, so for me, a blizzard. I must say, Jenda was SO excited to see snow. I didn't have the heart to deny her the chance to play in it, so I dressed her in all of her winter finery...thermal underwear, turtleneck, pullover sweater, two sweatshirts, sweatpants, blue jeans, three pairs of socks (mine), and, no lie, pink Timberland boots. Jerry, of course, volunteered to stay inside and make breakfast (Cheerios) so I got to go outside and play with Jenda in MY winter finery (long sleeved shirt, sweatpants that I bought at Target in Ft. Lauderdale that have all the warmth and substance of a kleenex, and Keds.)
Jenda had a wonderful time. She made snowballs and "Jenda tracks", you know, her footprints in the snow. Mommy made a trail of rocks behind her so that someone could find her frozen, dead, hypothermic body before the spring thaw. I noticed pretty quickly that we were the ONLY people outside on this glorious grey winter day. I could just imagine the neighbors...
"Hey, Mavis. C'meer and look at those damn fools! Why'n hell are they outside on a day lak this?"
"I dunno, Pootis. Muss be frum Floor-i-duh!!"
At any rate, the Cheerios were getting soggy, and being a very conscientious parent (afraid of what really good parents must think) I told Jenda we needed to go inside to have breakfast and then we could come back outside.
"Wanna play in the snow!"
Well, we have to eat breakfast and then we'll come back outside.
"NNNNOOOOOO......" and she took off.
I have to give props to Timberland, because the traction and speed that a two year old can get in those damn things is NOBODY'S business!! Let me just tell you that chasing a toddler in the snow is NOT for fat people who smoke (or even who DON'T smoke!) So I finally caught the little fiend, who screamed and cried like Naomi Campbell at a "Domestic Help Appreciation" rally. I showed her who's boss, though. I dragged her onto the porch and said in my best bossy mommy voice, "We are NOT going to play in the snow until after you have your beckoopuss!"
To which Jenda replied, "I've never liked you!"
I could hear the guffaws from the neighbors' houses.
After I assured Jenda that comedy is NOT for her (I don't know WHERE she gets this!) we went inside. Since my toes were black (who knows, I hope it's fungus and not frostbite!) I made Jerry go out and play. I decided to watch the local weather to see how long this blizzard would last. I mean, we could be snowed in for DAYS and I only had just so much Kendall Jackson left. I mean, c'mon!
Jerry came back in as I was bemoaning the fact that we had not yet purchased a generator. We could freeze to death in our own home if the power went out. It made my soggy black toes tingle just thinking about it!
"Nope, it's over. It'll melt by lunchtime and since we have a gas fireplace, we could still have warmth. Hate to burst your fatalistic little bubble, Toots!"
We'll just see about that. And that makes me wonder....why'n HAYULL did someone invent a gas fireplace? Where is the love? No more going out to a woodpile and praying that the brown recluses who live between the logs don't bite you. No more using a fireplace poker to push the logs around and setting fire with the loose spray of ashes to your semi-quasi-Orientalish rug from Target. Instead, you get a noxious smell from the gas fire, so bad that you just HAVE to open the flue, so that all of the heat and the gas haul ass up the chimney. I have to admit, I'm afraid of the damn thing. I refuse to light it because I just know I am gonna blow all straight to hell, or I am gonna leave the gas on and they'll find us in here unconscious with our tongues hanging out. Gas fireplaces are just too weird. It's like dyeing your own hair or hearing Lynyrd Skynyrd on Muzak...it ain't right, I tellya!
North Carolina natives sure do get freaky over a snow flurry. The locals run out to the store and buy up all of the bread. I just laugh at their panic-stricken faces as I walk to the wine aisle and buy all of the Kendall Jackson.
Our local newsgal reported that we would be experiencing "WINTRY CONDITIONS WITH A FROSTY, WINTRY MIX!" (Yeah in January, whatter the odds?!) In these parts, wintry mix means SNOW, ICE, AND PROBABLE DEATH!! Well, yeah, certain death if I run out of Chardonnay. She was almost in tears extolling the virtues of her brave comrades in the field, risking life and limb to reports these BIG KABUKI DANGEROUS WEATHER CONDITIONS (i.e., a snowflake.) I was waiting for her to recite their living wills on TV. Geeze....
As a veteran hurricane window-boarder-upper and champion storm Chardonnay drinker, I have to take issue with this drama. Wussies! While I am afraid for my life, freezing to death JUST HAS TO BE less painful than boarding up all of the windows and trying to see the satellite imagery of Hurricane XXXVVVIII on the four inch black and white TV from Wal-Mart that has been part of the hurricane preparedness kit since 1987. GET A GRIP!!
Here came Jerry and his voice of reason...."Look outside."
Sho 'nuff, the snow was pretty much gone, the roads were clear, and no one (us) had to sink their patio furniture in the pool to keep it from blowing away. In fact, it was clear enough to make a trip (send Jerry) to Food Lion to give our good friends Kendall Jackson and Alice White a ride home. Y'know, better to have a "wintry mix" of friends!!!
Trust me, I KNOW how to prepare for bad weather!!!
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