What Was That About Winter?

So Friday we had a bit of snow, 3 to 4 inches I believe it was, Saturday on the other hand...

Started later than Friday. I knew we were in for a possible snowstorm, 4 to 8 inches was the first indication I got. Then it happened, The Missus Herself realized we were short one jar of this...

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So I was "voluntold" off to the local grocery emporium. Now the weather hadn't turned really bad, yet. But the snow was falling a bit faster, and oh my goodness, gosh golly, was it ever cold. In the twenties I reckoned, a bit o' wind thrown in and it was unpleasant outside.

When I got to the local grocery emporium, the parking lot was full. I mean jam-packed with lots and lots of ee-jits trying to park right next to the store. Yeah, right. I just headed to the outer limits of the lot, found a spot and headed in to grab my jar of Prego. I knew that the jar I sought was, "in there."

Anyhoo, when I got inside the store, I was confronted with a scene much like the following...

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Okay, it was indoors, much better lit, and everyone was wearing modern clothing. But, nevertheless, it was disorganized, messy, and unpleasant. So I fought my way inside, found my Prego (yes! it's in there!) and fought my way back to the front of the store. While one could sense that there were lines forming at the registers, it was tough to tell which line went where.

Immediately I hustled out to the right flank of the mob and attached myself to a line for one of the self-service lanes.

Of course, there were Jim-Bob and Billie-Sue doing their weekly shopping (oblivious to the impending snow-pocalypse or simply oblivious, I wasn't sure) and of course they are in the self-serve line with a cart heaped full of groceries and of course they are as familiar with the self-service concept as Melanesian tribesmen were with aerial re-supply. I guess if they waved the item they wished to purchase at the scanner with enough vigor, eventually enough of the bar code would be read to register a price. Then they could pick up another item and begin waving it at the scanner.

And of course, one had the job of bagging their booty while the other scanned. I surmised that they had devised this division of labor by determining who was the least fit for the chosen task. Yup, the one scanning had no clue, the one bagging, if at all possible, was even worse. ("Yes," I mumbled to myself, "the bag must indeed be open before attempting to insert an item.") Groan, I was sure that I would be stuck in that store for all of eternity.

Eventually a store employee took pity on a few of us and opened another register, sort of. Number One register was down for maintenance, but at the end of that area was another register which could be used for price checks and normal store-employee type stuff. (Which did not involve waving items in the air and grunting until the bar-code-gods took pity and registered the price.)

This lady grabbed a few of us who had three items or less and shepherded us to that lonely register. I could tell that the other shoppers in the vicinity were somewhat aghast at this "special treatment" those of us who were actually just buying a few things (rather than doing the monthly underway replenishment in the face of a major snowstorm) were receiving . So I quickly began throwing small branches at the other shoppers, making mock charges and thumping my chest.

Yeah, something like that. But it had the desired effect. (Maybe I just grimaced at them with my best, "Hey, I might be a psychopath" look.)

Anyhoo, I got my sauce, decided to grab an ice coffee at Dunkin Donuts before returning to Chez Sarge for to watch the snow. Discovered that the roads were getting pretty slick. The really cold snow was rather greasy from all the traffic.

Got my coffee, headed home and spent the remainder of the day relaxing. Watching the storm.

A messy day, Sasha had the right idea.

Cats know how to relax.

As I write this the forecast calls for up to 12 inches of the white stuff. Looks like I'll be sleeping in this Sunday morning!