It is a city-wide pastime when we get snow to either go to the stores and buy up all the bread and milk or make fun of all the people buying up all the bread and milk, with Southerners getting mad at Yankees who invariably are like, “Oh, ha ha, it’s just a little snow! I can still see grass in my yard and they’re closing school?! Ha ha ha ha ha.”
I will just say that, in defense of the natives, “snow” here means something a little different than “snow” in the Midwest. We have, for instance, today, what I would call a light snow. I can still see my grass poking up through it and make out a couple of the joints in my sidewalk. It’s not a snow you even bother to shovel for. Or at least, we didn’t. I mean, you figure, if the sun comes out today, all the snow will be gone off the places you need to walk.
This is my expert opinion, based on years of growing up in a place that gets a lot of snow every winter, for much of the winter.
Who gets worked up over snow that’s going to be gone by Monday?
Well, I’m here to tell you that all it takes is moving a little further out to be deeply humbled in your attitude towards southern snow. Because here’s the thing–it’s not just that they don’t have the equipment to deal with it, it’s that the “snow” doesn’t behave like winter weather should.
It should be, since it’s winter, dry enough that, if, say, the snow on your sidewalk melts, the water gets sucked up into the air like a sponge. Not so much down here. The water melts, sits on that surface, and then, when it gets cold enough again, freezes. My poor porch, which didn’t get enough snow to worry me yesterday is now covered in a sheet of ice with a thin layer of snow.
As might all non-organic surfaces be.
It’s as if every Southern “snow” is actually an ice event. And once you realize that, you stop making fun of people who prepare to get stuck in their houses.
In other stupid news, the hose was still connected to the house as of the plumbers’ arrival yesterday. I can say with certainty that the last time anyone used the hose was when I hooked it back up to fill up the kiddie pool for the dog. In August. There is no one to blame but me. I can only hope that the fucking pipe hasn’t burst.
I’m so mad at myself.