There’s a deep sense of accomplishment from making a big grocery haul right before a storm. I rather expect it feels like the prehistoric cave dwellers felt when the hunting expedition hauled a mastodon back to the cave. Let the weather do as it will. We can sit here and eat without venturing out in the storm for a long LONG time!
The grocery list has been growing for weeks, magneted to the refrigerator while I diligently ignored it. Mr. Babushka noticed that we were almost out of milk, and declared it was time to go to the store. My morning look at the weather forecast discovered that a HUGE winter snowstorm is a lead story on every major media outlet. So we went. And apparently so did everyone else on this side of the continental divide. First you have to find a parking spot. LOL. It’s a good thing we can use the exercise from parking that far away. We were there EARLY, too.
There were five cart traffic jams in every aisle, empty shelves in the crackers and cookies and milk and more. Twenty cart lines at the check-out line. Today was worse than the early days of covid, except they were not out of toilet paper. Delivery shoppers added to the jam with big warehouse carts, filling orders into plastic crates. I had a moment of jealousy for people at home in fuzzy slippers while somebody else chased their grocery list around the store. People in line were talking about the storm coming in.
Out on the prairie, you could really see the weather approaching. But you felt it long before you saw it. First came a gentle spring day with blue skies and shirt sleeve temperatures (yesterday). After that, you saw dark blue at the north to northeastern or northwestern horizon. Old-timers called them “blue northers.” As hours passed, the blue-black monster grew ever nearer and a breeze picked up. Blue sky retreated, and the wind grew sharp. It brought a sense of impending restlessness that even animals could feel. Horses bucked and snorted and raced around the pasture and even old clumsy cows might shake their heads and find an awkward trot. Getting ready for the storm meant putting extra straw in the barns.
In blizzard country, the day the horses are bucking and snorting is the day everybody is in town hunting mastodons to drag home to the cave. People are tense and on edge.
When we got home today, it was another hour hauling everything in the house, up the stairs and putting it away. Now we can sit in the cave and eat without venturing out in the storm for a long LONG time. I’m glad we’re done.
This looks like it’s gonna be a big one. How are things in your part of the country and how are you getting ready for it?