So, Norfolk got its biggest snowfall in. . .well, in a really long time. The thing is, I’m from New England, so to quote Shania, “That don’t impress me much”. The Friday before the storm, I had been out running errands, getting a haircut and what not, but everywhere I went, there was incessant chatter about this impending storm.
I texted DH to find out whether or not we should grab some basic groceries to tide us over during whatever precipitation may fall. He said he’d pick up a few things on his way home, but if I could get a shovel, that would be great. Despite my having lived in Virginia for a number of years, and my knowledge that once the word “snow” is uttered a veritable Pandora’s Box of chaos is opened, I carried my happy hips to Dante’s 7th circle of retail hell — you know it as Wal-Mart. That being said, who thinks I got a shovel?
Fast forward to 7:15am Saturday morning. We’re awakened by Co’s sweet dulcet tones of, “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy! There’s snow! There’s snow!” And oh boy, was there. There was close to six inches already on the ground and it was steadily falling. Mo and Co were frothing at the mouth in their excitement to get outside. Now, being that we live in “the South”, we don’t have snow gear. There have been times over the last few years that I entertained the notion of buying snow pants and boots, but every winter season, there hasn’t been enough snow on the ground to warrant long underwear, let alone a full on zip up suit. Yeah, I was kicking myself this year.
Mo and Co looked like little hobos as they took to the front yard to play in the snow.
I love our street. It’s got great families that are always ready with a smile, a cup of sugar to lend or a magazine to swap. While bad weather would have most folks retreating under their comforters, our street was busy making snowmen, having snowball fights, and one neighbor had a fire pit going in his driveway. Oh, and I must clarify — contrary to popular opinion, I didn’t lose a bet with DH, nor did he “make me” shovel the front walk. We got a shovel and I decided to put it to use.
The weather really did a number on Norfolk, despite all the warnings of its imminent arrival. Roads were impassable, church was cancelled, playdates had to be rescheduled and school! Ugh, school has been closed since Monday. Cabin fever and the winter doldrums have set in with a quickness and a thickness. Any quick peek on Facebook will show you just how over this whole thing we really are. My favorite status update said, “No school again tomorrow? just inject the effing booze directly into my veins,” followed by “Yeah, now it’s getting UGLY. . .my bag o’ tricks is empty. . is this what it was like for the Donner party?”
I suppose I should count my blessings. My sophomore year in high school found us having had so much snowfall, and having missed so much school, we couldn’t have final exams. We’d been out of school more than we’d been in that semester. Now, that’s a lot of snow.
Anyway, I thought with the storm behind us, it would be business as usual on Monday. I was all set to go to the Y, but Wavy 10 showed crack up after crack up on the roads and I thought, “Are 4 miles on a treadmill worth the risk of wrapping my fender around a light pole?” Nahhhh. So we’ve been house bound. I haven’t let the girls go outside because Mo has a hacking cough that makes me think she’s been puffing on Marlboros at school, while Co’s nose is running like Usain Bolt. Needless to say, the mood at Chez Dixon is on the decline.
We’re running out of patience with each other, we’re running out of food — one loaf of bread, one gallon of milk and one gallon of Breyer’s Butter Pecan doesn’t go very far — and we’re running out of activities. This morning, they were up at 7 and we’ve had breakfast, thoroughly cleaned our rooms, braided hair, changed clothes, did some arts and crafts, read library books, had a snack, had some more snack, had a little bit more snack, they constructed a castle out of Legos for their Barbies, and then I put them in the tub, telling them it was summer in the winter time and they were mermaids.
I think it is now 9:15am. Time to turn on the Backyardigans.
Maybe it’s the cabin fever or maybe I’m just cranky, but if school is closed tomorrow and the sun doesn’t come out, I’m personally delivering a can of whoop ass to Mother Nature — believe it.
