Since Team
WestEnders moved to central North Carolina a few years ago, we’ve noticed that
our Winter weather experience typically includes a couple of “events” per
season…but usually a combination of snow and ice, rather than just the fluffy white
stuff by itself. This obviously makes things hazardous—for navigating both in a
car and on foot—as the roads and sidewalks can resemble a treacherous skating
rink after the precipitation ends.
Also of note: the most significant storm stuff seems to generally happen in February…so when the forecast last
week started calling for a SNOWFALL…in JANUARY…everyone sat up and paid attention. Then the numbers started being tossed around…3-7 inches possible on Friday…with
an additional 2-4 on Saturday? Whaaaaat? (And this was from the NOAA website,
which I tend to trust, since they’re all official…federal…meteorologist-types…)
This only served to intensify the buzz of speculation in the area, as folks
braced for the impending…whatever.
Here in
Casa WestEnders, however, we take these things with a verrrry large grain of
salt. In fact, Husband and I adopted our customary “I’ll believe it when I
see it” philosophy, while Derek took a practical approach: “I’d prefer to be
off of school on Monday…just on principle…and Tuesday, so I can stay up and watch
the [NCAA Football] National Championship game…with no repercussions….but I
don’t think that’ll happen.” And Riley? I’d say he was pretty equally divided between
enthusiasm and skepticism—trying hard to temper his excitement, so he wouldn’t
be let down too badly if nothing happened.
But as the alleged S-Day approached, things started getting a little wacky in the ‘hood. First, I
passed a salt truck spraying our street as I pulled out of the driveway to
leave for work on Thursday morning. Hmmm…emergency preparedness…looks a little
more serious. But the true sign of the looming apocalypse came when I stopped
off at Whole Foods at lunchtime...and I’m telling you, folks, it was a
C-I-R-C-U-S. There I was, purchasing my fresh fruit and gluten-free baking
mix—but I saw a whole lotta WINE in the carts of the good citizens around me.
Yep, planning for the worst, indeed.
Perhaps I
shouldn’t make light of the situation, though, because the next thing that
happened constituted somewhat of a…oh, let’s call it “mini-crisis”…in our
family. You see, it suddenly dawned on me that Riley…didn’t own a coat. Of any
kind. At all. When I went into his room to inform him of this—in a
state of mild panic—he nonchalantly said, “Isn’t there one in my closet from
last year?” (Um….nooooo, honey…remember how you grew several inches and put on
about 20 pounds since then? Yeah, that’ll rule the old jacket right out…) So we
had a quick discussion about what he might want in terms of his outerwear
options—and I steeled myself for an (admittedly ill-advised) pre-storm Target run.
And you
know what? In contrast to my grocery store debacle the day before, Target
was…almost eerily calm. The only thing I could figure is that everyone had
already accomplished stocking their pantries, and had hunkered down to await the arrival
of the…Winter….ness? Whatever the cause, I was grateful...and I also sent up a
“thank you” to the apparel powers-that-be--who despite choosing to prominently
display swimsuits at a time of year when the last thing most of us want to do is
be “mostly naked”,--at least also left a handful of coats out on the
racks. Yes, the selection was pitiful, but I found something in Riley’s size,
snatched it up, and called it D-O-N-E.
Lucky for me,
Riley liked the (Champion brand) jacket I’d brought him. But it became an instant
joke in our house-- the fact that the tag on the zipper proclaimed it to be
their “warmest”. Now, anyone who knows this kid is aware that he has an
internal heating element that works overtime for him—so he’s almost never chilly.
He therefore always made sure to mention it when donning his gear and heading
outside in the subsequent days: “I’ll be fine! You know, since I have the
‘warmest’!” (Yeah, yeah, take your polar-bear-self outside and run around, ya
big goofball…)
At that
point, there was really nothing left to do but sit back…and obsessively watch
the updated predictions…and of course place informal bets as to exactly how
long the kids would be out of school when the s…now hit the fan…er “pavement”.
Because if the NOAA scenario held true, they’d miss the entire week, no
doubt. NC doesn’t have the budget or equipment to clean up that kind of
accumulation, and it therefore needs to rely on our friend Mr. Sun to help
with melting—which would be unlikely,
with temps projected to remain below freezing until at least the middle of the
following week. But the truth is, even if we got only ONE inch, schools would probably close for...a day or so, maybe?…especially if it was mixed
with any sleet at all. There are quite a few big hills, some unpaved side
streets, and many kids who walk to school, so I get that the idea of buses and children on ice-encrusted paths is neither safe nor appealing to the people who have to make these kinds of
decisions.
Of course, all of this
was pure conjecture—and also very entertaining, don’t get me wrong—until
Friday arrived, and we were informed sometime around mid-morning that schools
would be closing 2 hours early. Siiighhhh. I'm sorry...over-react, much? The kids naturally
thought it was absolutely hilarious, and the mood of amusement continued as we
watched the skies into the afternoon…and evening…while nothing happened. That’s
right—we even went out for pizza to a popular local restaurant, wanting to get
a trip in before the UNC students return next week for the “Spring Semester”
(Ha!) and flood the place….and all was…frigid…but dry.
Stuff
finally did begin drifting down from the heavens later that night, but we could
tell from the plink-plink-plinking sound that it was that dreaded “wintry mix”.
And sure enough, when we awoke the next morning, the landscape appeared to be
covered by a thin coating of shiny snow—certainly not anywhere NEAR even the
minimum anticipated amount. So,, were the children disappointed? On the contrary,
they were blasé about the botched forecast…all they really wanted was to get
outdoors and romp around in it…which they did…from approximately 10 a.m. until
dinnertime. According to the sporadic reports I got when I actually saw or
heard from one of them, there was much sledding—as expected—and…football.
(Don’t ask me—they’re BOYS…)
As we’ve already
established over the years, I don’t deal well with the malady known as “cabin fever”, and for
me it has a remarkably short incubation period…so by Saturday afternoon I was
already itching to get out of the house. Our standard mantra for addressing
slippery road conditions—within reason, of course—is “Eh, we have a Subaru; it
should be okay.” So I crept down our driveway (a steep slope) without incident,
and set out to take the lay of the land, as it were. And I discovered that it was…reasonably picturesque…and
slick. Although I, personally, had no problems on my short jaunt, I could easily see
how it would not be ideal for small, light, non-4WD or AWD vehicles.
And given
the well-below-freezing thermometer readings? Anything that did get packed down,
or turned to slush by the small bit of solar energy we received for a few hours, refroze
even more rock-solid and perilous after dark. Case in point: even our driveway
lost all of its minuscule snow cover, so traction became suddenly nonexistent…which
I found out as I (fortunately slowly, and with no other cars coming toward me)
slid down the hill into the street when attempting to vacate the premises again
on Sunday. So it was no surprise at all later that day when we got the message
that schools would be closed on Monday.
Okay, that
takes care of ¾ of our merry little band of…snowmen? But it hadn’t occurred to
me to borrow a company laptop before going home on Thursday, so I wouldn’t be
able to work…or, you know, get paid…unless I ventured into the office. Alrighty, then—let’s put on our big
girl…boots…and go get this done! Meanwhile, mind you, the rest of my
suite-mates had all checked in with the news that they would be staying in
their cozy homes and tackling job-related tasks from there (probably in their pjs—a
choice I whole-heartedly support, by the way).
So I braved
the driveway again (which I felt went much better than the previous day, although
Husband was apparently watching out the window when I left and texted me that
he’d found it nerve-wracking) and the roads (which were, happily, mostly
clear, dry, and not scary at all…unless you consider how unusually empty they were) and my building’s
parking lot…which was a nightmare skating rink that the car's tires managed with
relative ease, but the tread on my footwear had some trouble negotiating.
As I
mentioned, I saw very few other automobiles on my commute, leading me to
conclude that even the adults in our town took a Snow Day, or else opted to work by linking up with their servers from the comfort of their living rooms. And
in my office? I was an Army of One, baby. That’s right, just me…and the
Keurig…hanging out in the extremely quiet environment…talking to myself out
loud once in a while to keep it from getting TOO dead-silent and creeping me
out.
Now we just
have to hang on until we hear whether normal activities will resume tomorrow…or
Mid-Winter Break will be prolonged. (I’d place money…or chocolate…on the
latter. Yep, that’s how sure I am!) As for me, I plan to celebrate my
successful slide home with some hot cocoa, a toasty blanket, and a good book.
Oh, and I’ll just bide my time until Wednesday, when we’re supposed to be back
into the mid-50s...and this will all go
away!
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