Bread, milk and toilet paper.
The necessities of life when a snowstorm is looming, according to my cousin Charlie. Of course, Charlie lived in Baltimore, and “snowstorm” to those folks, he said, was one or two inches that probably wouldn’t stay on the ground very long anyway.
I suppose, if I think about it, those three grocery items are pretty basic things. If I were snowed in, I wouldn’t want to be without any of them. However, having lived most of my life in northeastern Minnesota, and now in northeastern Wisconsin, it would have to be a lot more than two inches to send me scurrying to the store, or find me barricading myself into the house.
We do have snow predicted for tonight, though–a mere four inches. Maybe another inch tomorrow. The “big” storm is due Monday, I’ve been told by more than one person, although I can’t find any evidence of it on the weather sites. No evidence of it at the grocery store today, either.
I wasn’t laying in provisions. Wednesday is my regular day, so I went as usual, and didn’t find any more cars than are normally there. I did run into a couple friends. She showed me her ingredients for taco soup, a fun thing to fix on a snowy day. I looked more closely. Nope. Nary a sign of bread, milk or toilet paper.
I suspect the Monday storm is more of a brag, or maybe a wish, than anything else. There’s nothing a northerner likes better than the threat of a snowstorm that makes good on its promise. It’s fun to tell our southern friends how bad we have it up here, and how much we love it. Makes us sound hardy. Somehow, their bragging about hot weather doe
sn’t sound quite so impressive.
And believe me, when those storms don’t materialize, you should see the long faces and hear the disappointed mutterings. The only thing worse is when the Packers lose a game. In either case, there’s always hope for the next time.
So, I haven’t run out to buy milk, bread and toilet paper. I did put on a big pot of vegetable beef soup, though, and checked to see that my calendar is bare and I have time to play when I wake up to what I hope will be a winter wonderland.
And if you think I’m bragging, you’re right.