So, I'm ambling out of the hospital this morning and open the back door to some strange white blobs mixed with rain falling from the sky.
"Is that snow?" I ask a passerby.
Indeed. Freaking snow.
Once home the Southern/Northern dichotomy of our home is underscored.
Me: It's snowing! Look! Oh, look, there's a HUGE flake! OHMIGAWD, it's snowing!
Then I remember an little bit I'd written a couple of years ago. In honor of this most unusual occasion, may I present:
Southern Snow Forecasts
....An Interpretation for Yankees...
At least three snow flakes have been spotted in the county.
Call your place of employment and let them know you will be late/staying home.
Tune in to favorite local news station to watch the near continuous coverage.
Call at least five friends/relatives and discuss whether or not bread and milk should be purchased.
More than five snow flakes have been spotted within town limits.
All normal activities shall be cancelled.
Local weathermen will be broadcasting continously, fielding calls from Bubba Joe Shoehorn from Strawberry, SC about the near siege conditions inland.
Your presence is now required BY LAW at the nearest Piggly Wiggly. Wear an extra parka to help protect you during the milk/bread riots.
Snow is now visible to the naked eye. Some may be collecting on tree leaves and in shadows.
Every form of business/government is now shut down until the crisis has passed.
Local weathermen begin to drop dead from caffeine-induced heart failure. The talking heads will attempt to carry on, somehow, in the face of sure grim icy death to let you, the viewing public, know that the Piggly Wiggly in Ladson still has two half pints of skim milk available. Bread riots are being reported at the Merita outlet in West Ashley.
The governor will be calling out the National Guard if the snow doesn't melt by noon.
The Day After:
You are required by SC State Law to purchase the extra special edition of the Post Courier, which will have the Blizzard of Whatever Year photo insert, showing the frozen pineapple water fountain, 10,000 filthy, pinestraw studded snowmen, and one poor deluded Yankee soul wandering the streets with a sled, in search of a slope.
Thor sleeps the sleep of the spoiled rotten kitten, unaware that if ever in his life time, there is snow on the ground, he will be tossed into it. Oh yes. He will.