Written by Stephanie Renee on January 24, 2016
First of all, how many of us were clear that winter storms got characterized like hurricanes do? And now, a name that has formerly been associated with too-cool-for-school white pop stars will be how we remember the fourth largest snowstorm in Philly history.
It appears that most of my single girlfriends chose to spend their snow day exactly as I did: in the kitchen cooking profusely, and then on the couch, binge watching something they missed in real time. Well, I can’t say I cooked profusely, but I did finally get a chance to cook in my crock pot. Cook, as in create something from scratch, rather than simply using it as a food warmer. I mean, when else do I consider–hours in advance–what I might want for dinner, but in a snowstorm? Stef’s infamous Caribbean Turkey Chili, slowly stewed, thank you. Citrus-pineapple bellinis? Why certainly! Mexican hot chocolate with a little nip of Kahlua? Sounds scrumptious. I have never understood the human tendency to rush to the grocery store, upon notice of an impending snowstorm, for requisite bread and milk? I’ll take more gourmet dishes and adult beverages over french toast any day of the week.
And when you don’t lose power or internet service in the midst of the storm, then Netflix really is your friend. Cable will give you something mindless to watch, but all of the news channels are fixated on what’s happening outside of your window. And where’s the fun in that? I would much rather countdown the hours of being housebound by catching up on movies that I never had time to see in the theater. Organizing and cleaning. Maybe cracking open the pages of a good book. Honestly, when you don’t realize how much time you spend on work-related tasks, deciding to yield to Mother Nature and just being “in” is quite delightful.
I could complain about how I strained my forearm shoveling out my car, or the ugly scratch I made on my hatch with the ice scraping utensil on my shovel while digging out my car, or how tired you get when shoveling blizzard snow as opposed to a few random inches of precipitation that can be expected each winter. But why? I’ve got great leftovers in the fridge, the sun helped clear out a trench around my car that should facilitate me rolling out to work, and I have heat, power and internet service. All in all, while acknowledging that Jonas was nothing to play with, I came out OK on the other side.
Still planning to retire in New Orleans, though. I prefer my winters with tempestuous rain, rather than this blizzard mess. You Northeasterners can have the rest of my lifetime allotment of snow, even with the downtime of forced chill. Blame my island blood and permanently sunny disposition.