A storm’s coming. Could be a big one … really big. The weatherman has spoken, made his proclamation … 18 to 24 inches and wind gusts up to 55 miles per hour. For those of us who have spent a lifetime living life the way it should be, we know it’s not the ‘snow day’ alone that’s significant but the 24 hours before that is just as worthy of our attention. During this crucial time period, it’s the preparation that counts, the readiness … and it’s all in the details.
Number one prep is to ensure an ample supply of edible provisions. One must make a trip to the grocery store even knowing that your town’s entire population could possibly be there. So this morning at 9 a.m., I set out. I’m retired and have plenty of time. It’s the way life should be. I was able to quickly find a parking space, grabbed my reusable shopping bags (that I love), entered Hannaford and, oh goody, plenty of buggies. I strolled confidently into the produce arena. Less than a dozen people quietly performing the same task I was. I picked up a cabbage, a bag of carrots, potatoes and onions, some Cara oranges and bananas. (A pot of hot soup is always nice on a snowy day … and having grabbed some healthy fruit, I won’t feel quite so guilty when I move out of produce, into the bakery, and in a very nonchalant manner place a Wicked Whoopie into my buggy.) Nice day … everything is going smoothly.
A bit busier as I come around the petition. I push my buggy down the wine aisle but not without stopping to lift a four-pack of Merlot. (Perhaps ‘lift’ is not the word I should use here since I fully intend to ‘pay’ for these little bottles of red pleasure.) I move along to the far end of the store, pick up milk, eggs, bread, other staples and proceed to the register. Definitely busier here. That’s alright. It’s to be expected. It’s the way life is on the day before a snow day.
There are two shoppers in front of me. Each of their buggies filled to the brim. I reassess the contents of my own … sorry, but too many items for the quick check. Two more customers fall into line behind me. Everyone patiently waiting their turn. There’s a quiet chatter about the impending storm … an excited anticipation … so familiar. My turn comes. I place my storm-day necessities on the counter. The final item being my whoopie … my guilty pleasure. I turn to the elderly couple behind me and, gesturing with the whoopie in hand, I tell them, “This is the best part!” They respond with a friendly chuckle and hold up their Devil Dogs. We exchange some light humor. The way life should be. I thank the cashier and bagger and tell them to stay warm and drive out of Hannaford’s very busy parking lot feeling assured that we will be more than sated during this nor’easter.
Upon arriving home, my husband is busily preparing the snowblower and the generator, along with tying down the awning above the back door. A good man … .takes such good care of home and family. I will remember to tell him that. Tonight we will feel blessed, tucked safely inside our warm and cozy home, prepared for what is to come. The way life should be. For now we wait. The wind will howl. The snow will swirl. Bring it on!
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