I love waking up to snow. It’s like a big event occurred while I was in a coma. Now, I’m conscious and perhaps I’ve missed a season. Maybe, I’d better check the date on that newspaper that’s wrapped in orange plastic half buried in the driveway.
Trudging out to retrieve it is invigorating and as I shake the icy dandruff off the paper and look down at my footsteps making a fresh impression, I feel patriotic, like I’m walking on the moon about to plant a flag.
That image falls away fast as I notice Tony, my Morkie, a breed with very short legs up to wherever a dog’s knees are in white stuff that will soon be yellow stuff. The romance of this morning is fading even before I’ve had my coffee. Thanks a lot Tony!
In the short time it takes to reach my front door again it’s starting to rain and it’s a warm rain that will melt everything by noon. What a wimpy storm this is!
I think about how crowded it was yesterday in the supermarket, people swarming to stock up because surely they’ll starve without ‘supplies’ while they’re stuck in the house for 4 hours.
Most of these neighbors could walk to the stores, if necessary. Reaching civilization is only a matter of being in decent shape and owning a coat.
But, wait…My refrigerator is looking pretty barren. I turned away from those long lines of panic yesterday, superior, refusing to join them.
Now, they are all enjoying their lazy Sunday and I have nothing in the house for lunch.