Hand Wringing

I'm a worrier.  I obsess.  Within my social network I have been dubbed the Official Hand Wringer.  I'm the one in the background wringing her hands and muttering to herself that such and such is bad, this or that is going to happen, and on and on.

You could tell me I inherited a billion dollars from a long-lost relative and I would find something to worry about.  Taxes! Litigation from bitter would-be heirs!  I'll end up like all those lottery winners you read about, drunk and destitute in five years!

See?

Tuesday snow started falling again.  It was pretty, and I truly enjoyed it, but I knew we were in for worse things like the ice storm bearing down upon us.  I did a quick evaluation since I knew I was stocked in regards to consumables and whatnot, and realized that I was missing some very key essentials like water, batteries, and candles.  I just haven't purchased any emergency candles since I moved into this house, no specific reason why no besides the fact that the weather has been very mild the past two years.  As for the batteries, well I blame the children for eating them or something.  The water was easy to explain, the local utility company has been working on the system a street away and last week they dropped something on the water main causing the water to slow to a trickle and then run cloudy for several days.  I burned through all my water supplies since the water tasted awful and looked awful.

I took my very reluctant chihuahuas out for a walk and there were just a few flakes drifting down peacefully.  After they finally did their thing I took them back in and headed to the local WalMart for the few things I needed.  By the time I'd driven two miles to the main road I could no longer see the lines in the road.  By the time I left the store (it took over an hour thanks to only six open check out lines) there were about two inches of snow on my car and the ground.

What is a ten-minute drive on a bad traffic day took me over thirty minutes because the roads were so bad.  Adding fuel to that fire was the fact that few people can drive in this, and there were all sorts of foolishness on the roads.  One person was driving 15 mph in the middle of the road and causing back ups.  Other people were driving on the shoulder (and going all over the place), tailgating, and just driving like total jackanapes.  It was terrifying.

But in that moment, I felt no fear.  No nervousness.  I kept myself gathered and calm, kept both hands on the wheel in the 10 and 2 o'clock positions, and I drove cautiously and carefully.  Even when my car skidded off the road I just went with it, let the car do its thing, and then gradually pulled back onto the pavement.  I made it home in one piece and didn't even feel a slight shaking of my nerves.

Of course once I got home I obsessed over weather reports and started wringing my hands because we're at a high risk for power outages.  Instead of sitting there making myself go into a worry death spiral I got the Man dressed and out the door to bring wood from the shed, feed the chickens, and secure the house as best we could.  Then I got into the kitchen and started cooking and preparing food in case we lose power.  I have a grill and I'm as prepared as can be, but I wanted to have food in case it was too bad to grill outside.

Man got on the phone and started calling friends in the area to make sure they were all ready and surprisingly no one had done much of anything.  A short while later, notifications started popping up on facebook as friend after friend we'd contacted started to brag about their storm preparedness.

So I guess my hand wringing isn't all for naught, there is a need for a worry wart in everyone's lives.  I guess I'm The Robot to all my friends but I don't do the arm waving or holler "Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!"  I sit in the background whimpering and muttering while wringing my hands until someone notices and listens, then shares what I've said.

Snow Day!

The cold frigid northern south has gotten snow for the first time in five years.  This means that life grinds to a halt, everything closes, and we all hunker down with good food, strong drink, and entertainment.  Since I grew up in the very southernmost part of the country, I still see snow as a novelty and squeal with excitement when it starts to flutter down from the sky.  Of course, even sleet and teeny tiny specks of snowflakes are enough to make me jump up and down, but by the time I went to sleep last night I admit that I was feeling a bit of despair as it had been sleeting/icing (not sure what terms to use, frozen precipitation that's not fluffy?) all evening and I'd promised my kids snow in the morning.

Thankfully, oh so thankfully, there was a beautiful blanket of snow on the ground when I woke up early this morning.  Then I realized I'd left my camera at my friend's house after a get together last weekend and I felt a bit of annoyance since I have my camera phone to shoot with.  I made the best of what I have, and even lowered myself to use my boyfriend's Nikon, but I think my phone took better images since I'm unfamiliar with his camera and wasn't sure how to operate it in manual mode.  It makes me feel dirty to use a dSLR in point and shoot mode.

So we woke up to

and there were two very excited children begging to go out.  I told them later and grabbed two very reluctant chihuahuas to take them out for potty time.  My female did her usual dance at the door and jet out as quickly as possible only to stop stock still, leaving little doggy paw skid marks in the snow on the porch, because she had no clue what was on the ground.  My male took a bit of encouragement to even get out the door since he can smell snow and despises it passionately, a well placed slipper got him moving in the right direction.  The poor things had a record-time morning potty break and the male was sent back out several times to "Go Potty!" since I know he'd much prefer to do his pooping the warmth and comfort of a hidden corner, but they did it and then scurried back into the living room and burrowed under blankets and children seeking warmth.

I fixed a hearty breakfast and then sent the children on a scavenger hunt for long underwear, clothing, and winter gear.  After about an hour of "I can't find" and "I can't get it on" we were ready to head out into the cold and snow.

They dove straight into the snow and I hedged my way into the backyard to check on the chickens.  The girls were huddled in their coop with the heating lamp for warmth, but seemed fine so I knocked the ice out of their water dispenser, threw them a double ration of feed, and joined the kids for a snow fight.  

This snow isn't snowball snow.  I've never seen snowball snow in the six times I've been in the snow, but powdery stuff that doesn't compact isn't snowball snow, even I know that.  So we made do with scooping up handfuls of snow and chucking it at each other.  I, of course, was the victor until I gave up when two neighborhood kids joined in over the fence and it was four against one.  Even I know when the odds are stacked against me and when it's time to wave the white flag.  So I tooled around the yard, shooting with the boyfriend's camera, and fiddled with stuff in the yard.  Girl and I played together and ran around, played on the swings, and then we moved to the front to go for a walk and scout out potential sledding hills.  I grabbed a lid to one of my storage bins, just in case.

Well, the storage bin failed, but we found a spot and headed home for lunch.  After some screen time, lunch, more screen time, sewing (for me), and playing, I finally succumbed to the pleas and took the kids out for a second time.  I inflated a tube we use at the lake in the summer and we headed to our hill.  We spent about forty five minutes tubing before I begged to go inside.  I was wet from kneeling on the snow to fling kids down the tiny hill and getting very cold.  For some reason it just felt so much colder the second time we were out.  The kids had a blast and I had fun too, I even slid down the hill several times and only shoved the kids down to get an extra turn a few times. 

I feel I set a fine example by making a running jump onto the tube, jarring my neck and shoulders, and showed them exactly why we don't do such wild things.  It was still fun, though my neck and shoulders disagree.  Back in our yard I cleared some snow from my car, filled a bowl with the clean snow underneath, and set it on the porch for a snow cream carrot to dangle when they got unruly.

Then we just laid about and vegged.  I did some laundry, we watched another movie, we played some games, and we plugged in.  Girl and I got into a heated game of Jenga while Boy watched and cheered me on.  I fixed beef stew for dinner and once I successfully bribed them into eating a satisfying amount, I pulled out the snow and snow cream fixings.

Snow

1/2 C sugar

1 C milk

1 1/2 tsp vanilla

I mixed the milk/sugar mixture earlier in the day to let the sugar dissolve and just stored it in the fridge.  I spooned the snow into the bowl to fill it about halfway and poured the mixture over it until it was just slightly wet.  At first I whisked it together, but grabbed a spoon since it wasn't doing a very good job.  It took about two minutes to stir it up properly, but once it was ready it was delicious.  Very creamy and very vanilla.  The kids loved it.  I didn't use much of the ingredients so I put the snow outside again and the mixture back in the fridge for tomorrow.

The snow really compacted down when mixed up and I now understand why the recipe I found online called for a full gallon of snow for 1 cup of milk and 1 cup of sugar (I halved the sugar).

After snow cream, the kids sort of devolved and I'd reached my limit by that point.  Boy brought in a huge load of wood and then I sent them to brush their teeth in the hopes of signaling a wind down and beginning a quiet evening by the fire.  It was not to be as they screeched and howled at each other since one decided that the toilet lid was a fine seat to use while brushing and the other felt it was their seat first.  I ignored them for a while, but finally reached my breaking point and screamed that the day was over and it was time for bed.  Cue much wailing and gnashing of teeth as fingers were pointed and blame was shifted.

Then they went to bed.

They're off school tomorrow too.  I had to shift my work schedule to be home with them so I'm off as well.  I hope we make it out alive.