Milk, Bread and Snow Babies

As I emerged out from under my rock today, limping from three weeks of illness and my Mama's hospital stay, I couldn't help but think on our beautiful, terrible, bi-polar Georgia weather. This would have to be the most miserable winter on record, with so much rain and leaden skies it could make you hightail it to Tijuana. I don't even know what it's like there, but it's got to be better than this craziness. We have the strangest dirt in our yard that I have ever seen -- it's black as soot, silky, soft as butter and will grow anything. Where did that come from? It's like Yankee dirt, not the Georgia red clay I grew up on. Trucks and cars like to leave deep ruts on all the edges of our yard. Ken jogs out there with his rake and shovel and fixes it back. 

It was warm in the sunshine, so I sat and basked in it for a piece today with my animals, when I began to get cancellations for my appointments tomorrow. Apparently there's a snowstorm coming (an inch or two) and the schools are already cancelled too. Today: sunbathing. Tomorrow: snowblindness. Next week: heck, we're jumpin in the pond. My dear Yankee friends do not understand us. They get cranked up with the snowplows in October or November while we're still harvesting collards. Then they have an event called winter, which lasts on out til March or April. You wear your coats every day, you warm up your cars, you stay inside reading or knitting or whatever it is those foreigners do. Our weather is so wonky, we spend all winter sick and sure we're going to die. Their freezing temperatures kill their bad bugs...ours just breeds extra ones. By early spring the mosquitoes are dive-bombing us before we can navigate the screen door. 

Either way, I'll take it. We had the chance, years ago, to consider jobs in such far-flung places as Colorado and Pennsylvania. I'm sure those are wonderful, interesting regions to explore. They have actual seasons, places where you can ski on real snow, not ice. They have plows and salt trucks to fix the roads up. Our grand winter adventures here include at least one or two disaster days filled with dread, ice-covered everything and mad dashes to the store. I apparently have a couple of extra grandchildren to show for some of those snow days. I'll take them too. 
We're gearing up for tomorrow and I haven't got a lick of bread or milk in the house. Maybe we won't starve, and hey, I think we're overdue for another grandbaby.