This morning started as a typical panic day for Southerners when snow is in the forecast. After anxiously checking every hour-by-hour forecast on a variety of weather websites, I set out to brave the elements and fortify our already well-stocked household.
It was drizzling violently when I left the house in my parka and snow boots to head for Triple Crown Bakery in Franklin. I needed an almond scone and individual quiche because…well…I needed them.
No one laughed as I entered the Whole Foods dressed for sub-zero arctic temperatures while the drizzle continued. I was in search of chickpeas and tahini for homemade hummus. We do not have enough protein in the house if you disregard the four filets, stew beef, pork chops and chicken I already have in the freezer. Bread. I only have a few slices of bread. I pick up a hefty 2-pound loaf of Great Harvest Nine Grain.
Cheese. What’s bread without cheese? Havarti dill it is. And imported butter. Just the basics. Then I’m off to the convenience store to lay in some extra Diet Cokes and unsweet tea.
As I struggle to find a way home through the blizzard that has now overtaken Middle Tennessee (in the North I think they call them “flurries”) I contemplate whether I should park at the bottom of the hill rather than attempt the driveway. No, I have now acquired way too many groceries to make the perilous climb by foot up the stone steps to the upper driveway. I will take my life in my own hands and barrel up the driveway.
Is it too soon to have a glass of wine after my harrowing journey for life-sustaining provisions (the scone was great)? No, it is not. So now my fate is sealed. My driveway is far too steep to try to drive back down to park the car at the bottom. Never drink and drive, even if it’s 30 feet. I may be here until the spring thaw. Don’t come after me. I can handle this.