raybear | The cold comes through every crack she puts her hand up to

The anticipation of snow is everywhere -- on morning news programs, between radio chatter, in the breakrooms of offices. Not so much the grocery store, as I thought might happen, but that is more Atlanta, where the talk of several inches of snow would lead to the emptying of bread and milk aisles. Instead. I picked up a few necessities like cream and coffee, but more luxury items for the occasion: port wine cheese spread and blueberry bread and chocolate chip cookies. Walking back I think about how the air is the same temperature as a refrigerator so my purchases would stay fresh for miles of walking, not just the 3 blocks home. I think about heavy snowstorms knocking out the power lines (but not the gas, so we would have warmth and cooking) and what in freezer and fridge would I eat first in case it was out for hours on end, and what would we do? I decided I would make a quiche first, with the remaining pie crust and near-dozen eggs and now worry too much about the wilting celery and cauliflower and condiments. Later I would make the chicken that has defrosted in the inactive freezer. We would play games of scrabble by candlelight, then stretch our bodies over each other under blankets to read books and go to sleep early. In the morning if it was still dark, we wouldn't notice as much and I would make scrambled eggs and kielbasa and juice oranges and grapefruits, because all of those things would survive the night just fine, I don't worry too much about spoilage these days, it is too American. Not that I am somehow not one, I just think every small attempt should be made to rally against the expected stereotype of such. Especially when they are impractical and inaccurate, like using antibacterial everything in between microwaving. When the power is out, I will be sad that our only popcorn is in microwave bags, though maybe I would rip one open and make it in the pot and then halfway through remember there's no movie to watch with it. I would drink tea and return to the book. In the afternoon I would take Sophie out in the backyard to play in the snow drifts until we were both frozen and tired and would come inside to sleep. I'd wake up to every light in the house being on as the power returned while I dozed.

As it were, it's still just damp outside. No flakes have begun to descend, all power all over the city is up and running at the usual maximum. Maybe it will begin when I head home. Maybe it will pass us over tonight. After all, it is not yet officially winter until December 21st, so there's still time.