I don’t particularly like ice or snow. I live in Arkansas, for crying out loud. But it was visited on me like a plague this past weekend.
The biggest trouble with winter weather is that no one here knows how to deal with it. So there’s general mass hysteria. We don’t have much by way of trucks to clear the roads, mostly because we might get a couple of days, but then it just melts and we all go about our business.
There’s usually a run on bread and milk when a weatherman utters the words “ice” or “snow.” I was told by the butcher at our neighborhood grocery store there was a near riot when they ran out of ground beef and he announced the delivery truck was still an hour out. “I though people were gonna lose their minds,” he said with actual fear in his eyes.
It’s understandable that customers were upset…what with no bread or milk left, what were they gonna eat?
Four days. That’s how long I was trapped in my house this time. Four.long.days.
I baked, and I drank. It was the only way to survive. I gained a pound per day we were trapped. I hate snow and ice.