We are having a big snowstorm (for Charlotte) tonight. Forecasters are calling for 6 to 10 inches tonight, tapering off around sunrise. That might not seem like a lot, but here in the south it can cripple the city for a day or two.
I made the mistake of going to the grocery store at about 4:00 pm and it was a madhouse. It was like Thanksgiving week, only more frantic. I generally only shop for a few days at a time and we needed some more supplies. Bad timing. I got the last package of organic chicken breasts and the last package of fresh mushrooms (a run on mushrooms? Really?) among other items that I needed to gather. Foodstuffs are in place. We're good for the next 48 hours and then some.
I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line age caught up with me. I used to be a big kid whenever it snowed, going from window to window checking the progress. When the kids came along I got to relive my childhood with theirs, taking them sledding and building snowmen. Coming in to make hot chocolate and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Good times.
Now the kids are gone and while I still check the windows periodically, there isn't the excitement it used to elicit. When did this happen? I don't remember tripping over some significant milestone marked 'getting old'. I don't like it.
I'm thinking about building a snowman in the morning for the heck of it. I don't have snow boots, but I do have a pair of wedgewood blue Chuck Taylors that will do for short periods.
The neighbors probably think I'm a bit of a whacko anyway, so what the heck.
Wish me luck.
