Because humor is funnier when you know it's true.
How to survive a blizzard vacation
It will come as a surprise to few that I’m not a big fan of winter. This Florida gal just doesn’t have the chops to hang out in the snow. I moved to Virginia in 1995 and 8 months out of the year I love being a Virginian. But from December through March, Mother Nature can make me downright homesick for ‘ol FLA. “Oh, but that heat!” they say. “The humidity!” they moan. Yeah, well, you don’t have to shovel humidity.
I’ve tried to enjoy what winter has to offer. I’ve attempted to ski – twice. Both instances ended with me in tears in the lodge. Strapping sticks to my feet and hurtling to my death turns out to not be my forte. I’ve sledded and gone tubing – both fun, both I can leave to the kiddies. I do like a nice fire (and can build one too, thank you very much Girl Scouts!) and a hot toddy, so there’s that.
I really do try to not complain about winter and the weather. There are certain things in life that require you to hitch up your big girl panties and just deal with it. Taxes, ya gotta pay your taxes. And flossing, that’s really unavoidable. Wear sunscreen, use your turn signal, and if the leftover Chinese food has turned green, throw it away. And, don’t complain about the weather.
This past week I was once again reminded that it’s January and in January it often snows. I concede that it’s pretty when it covers the ground in an inch or two of pristine whiteness. It’s like nature’s carpeting. Shoveling an inch of snow – or better yet using a snow blower to clear a driveway – isn’t so bad. But when it’s feet of snow; that is a major league fun-sucker.
Here’s a little run down of how I spent my recent blizzard “vacation”:
The Prep. Two days out I began to take heed of the dire predictions of the weather forecasters. Midday, on a Wednesday, I ventured into the conspicuous consumer wonderland that is Costco. A word to the wise: Impending snow storm + Costco = total sh*# show. Shopping at Costco on a normal day requires patience and the steady hand of a seasoned NASCAR driver. Shopping at Costco before a looming storm requires strength, agility, and a serious “lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way” mindset. Somehow I managed to acquire all the necessary survival supplies: toilet paper, frozen pizza, and bottled ready-to-drink margarita.
One Day Out. I dedicated some serious time to making soup, baking cookies, and setting up a crock pot pork roast. Because that’s what Southern girls do, we cook. I also charged all the cellphones and back-up batteries. Because that’s what Southern girls do, we talk. And, of course I stocked the liquor cabinet – yeah, I can’t really blame that one on the South. Hubs immediately tucked into the emergency stash of Oreos.
Day One: And So It Begins. Hubs & I snuggled up together, munched on cookies, and watched a movie. Considering we might be together in close quarters for a while, “Gone Girl” might not have been our best choice.
Day Two: And So It Continues. At daybreak it was still snowing. At this point in time we looked to have about 14 inches, with more predicted through tonight (that’s what she said). Hubs headed out to work with the neighbor guys to do a little diggin. I was more than happy to let the shoveling be a guy thing.
A lull in the storm gave the Hubs an opportunity to clear away some of the accumulation. A picture is worth a thousand words, so, here ya go:
Day Three: The Clean Up Begins. We awoke to the sound of snow blowers. Hubs jumped out of bed and exclaimed “the other kids are already outside playing, I gotta go!” #boysandtheirtoys
Day Four: The Big Dig Continues. The federal government shut down so the Hubs and I attempted to both work from home. This has not gone particularly well in the past.#prayforme.
Day Five: This is Getting Old. The Feds remained shut down which meant another day working from home with the Hubs. I love the Hubs, I truly do. However, I am quite certain no jury would convict me. A friend suggested we meet for lunch just to get out of the house. I feel quite confident that soup and sandwich may have saved my husband’s life.
Day Six: The New Normal. As the Hubs heads back to work, the house becomes blissfully quiet again. There’s mounds of laundry to tackle, a column to write, and a client who’s waiting for a deliverable. However, I think I’ll sit here a spell, finish this cup of coffee, and enjoy the snowy scenery. Ya know, it is kinda pretty.
-Kimba Dalferes
Kimberly “Kimba” Dalferes is a native Floridian who pretends to be a Virginian. She is an accomplished king salmon slayer, estate sale junkie, and sometimes writes books, including “I Was In Love With a Short Man Once” and “Magic Fishing Panties.” Dalferes’ stories have been featured in diverse publications, including Feisty After 45, The Roanoke Times, Hippocampus Magazine, Better After 50, BonBon Break, Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, and Midlife Boulevard. Dalferes’ humor column, Dock Tale Hour, appears in Smith Mountain Laker Magazine. She’s quite proud of the fact that she’s had a limerick published in The Washington Post, which Dalferes emphatically claims as a legitimate publication cred. Dalferes can also be found hanging out on The Middle-Aged Cheap Seats—her blog.