Day One: Businesses started closing before the precipitation began to fall. Naysayers mock the fortitude of our collective character. Children play. Crockpots hum. Happiness and calm rule. One day of bad weather and then the Southern normalcy of sweater and a jacket weather will return. That’s what always happens.
Day Two: The entirety of the outdoors is glazed in ice. It is beautiful. Children’s attempts at snow angels and snowballs are met with frustrated confusion. Attempts to replicate the fun of snow on slippery ice results in bruises and scrapes. Whining and squabbling commence as the injured discover the horrors of ice includes bad Internet connectivity.
Day Three: Layers of snow cover the ice. The outdoors is a glass palace illuminated by a million prisms that distract from the bitterly frigid cold. Nothing this breathtakingly gorgeous could be bad. Could it? Sure, the winds are gusting and branches are falling, but if we appreciate nature’s art, the misery will end. Right?
Day Four: The world is a frozen and desolate wasteland. The cars are probably never going to start again after sitting unmoved for so many days. The food choices are dwindling and eating has become monotonous. The laundry and dish piles are hopeless. Things get dirty faster than they get cleaned.
Day Five: So, this is winter. The rest of the country experiences several months of ice and immobility. The children can do lessons online, however spotty the connection remains. There’s no reason to get out of pajamas. It is what it is.