You have not seen crazy in Dallas until the weather forecaster predicts an ice storm. Not since Noah has there been such preparation for a weather event.
First stop is the liquor store. If you think the last call sale at Neiman’s brings out the ugly, you ain’t seen nothing. Cruising into the parking lot is second only to a demolition derby. A little old blue haired woman will steal your waiting parking spot and maneuver a mid finger salute faster than Sherman marching through Atlanta. If you survive to make it to the store entrance do not…..I repeat do not even think about heading over to the Southern Comfort aisle. These wee women who think nothing about stealing parking spots and hurling digital obscenities hoard the stuff by the gallons.
I settle for something called Persimmon Brandy, distilled in Mississippi.
Next stop is the supermarket. By now, the shelves are practically bare except for milk, eggs and healthy stuff. There is nary a Cheeto in sight. Ben and Jerry left the building two shopping carts ago. Even the healthy chips are gone or smooshed to sawdust. Heath bars are history. Not to worry, with a freezer and pantry full of basics I will create new culinary delights.
- A new casserole that we find unremarkable to our taste buds makes up for it in volume.
- The book touted as compelling puts me to sleep
- I take comfort from the Persimmon Brandy that taste like Vicks formula 44 cough syrup.
- My fleece lined sweats and fuzzy socks are cozy.
- Amazon Prime did not deliver the cat’s food.
- The squirrels refuse to eat the leftover casserole.
- My fleece lined sweats and fuzzy socks are itchy.
- I poured the persimmon brandy over pasta and passed it off as health food.
- The cat is plotting my demise.
- The squirrels are grouping in a menacing stance.
- Spouse is pawing through freezer for something that isn’t frostbitten and ugly gray color.
- I see a pizza delivery car. The cat requests anchovies.
I am burning fleece lined sweats and fuzzy socks in the dumpster.