A Southern State of Snow?

When winter comes, I pride myself on being tougher than most around these parts, now living below the Mason-Dixon line. I spent my first thirty years in northern Vermont and consider myself a bit of an expert on what a "real" winter is and how to drive properly in the snow. I grew up going to school with three feet of snow on the ground (hey, as long as there's no ice...) and I love to tell my husband I practically put the chains on the school bus snow tires myself.  We certainly never went to the grocery store in a blind panic when the weatherman starts whispering the "s" word and a half-inch on the ground doesn't even warrant a conversation about the weather.

When I headed south to Virginia for graduate school, it was more than a little bit of a culture change for in terms of how one dealt with Old Man Winter. I remember the first day I woke to the alarm clock and my local NPR bursting with school closings. I ran excitedly to the window thinking I would see soft white snow having fallen overnight, reminding me of home. Instead I was greeted with signs of the end of autumn - dry brown grass. No snow.  No ice. Perhaps a 30 degree temperature. Are you kidding me? Cancel school simply because it's cold? In my wildest childhood fantasies such a thing never did occur.  Then came an actual snowstorm. Two things shocked me. One, the amount of people who seemed to be of the belief that owning an SUV meant that they could and should be out driving in heavy snow. Um, do you understand why you are now sitting in that ditch dialing the state police, you brain surgeon you? And two, the mad rush folks make to the grocery store for bread, milk, eggs and toilet paper as if those 4 essential items are all  you need to hold you over for a week.

Now granted, I did send my husband out last year for a full grocery shop just as the snowpocalypse of 2010 hit us. I was pregnant and on bedrest, along with our toddler and I understand that occasionally a storm will come along that warrants a trip to the store in preparation. But more often than not, living here, I've found the snow is gone in two days. I am guessing that the grocery run could be better spent on items such as the fixings for a nice tenderloin dinner and have yourself a nice warm meal in lieu of that stockpile of toilet paper which will now carry you into the next decade.

I'll admit. I have already gone soft with the temperatures. I get wimpy and fuss when the thermometer goes below 50, as that's much too cold for this fragile flower; preferring a nice sunny 80 degree day. Thus my husband loves to throw the tough northern girl card right back at me when I complain. Yesterday morning I found myself driving into work in a bit of a snow squall with less than a half of an inch on the ground. Drivers were already on the highway at 5 am being silly, driving fast, driving slow, stomping on brakes, creating a general sense of panic. I did drive steady and calm. But had I spotted a grocery store en route, I just might have pulled over myself, bagels and scrambled eggs on me.