If you haven’t experienced the “possibility of snow” in Alabama, you really should. It is fascinating on so many levels. You spend hours and hours contemplating closings (when we all know that the entire city will shut down the minute there is a threat of a flurry so I have no idea why we spend time contemplating the way we do).  We run to the grocery store and buy up all the bread and milk (seriously, you should have seen the Publix parking lot last night).  We freak out. Prior to January 2014 I would have laughed with you, but having experienced what we now call “Snowmageddon 2014” in such a personal way, I am right there with everyone. This is the part where everyone begins to tell their Snowmageddon 2014 story.  Here is mine:

I was working at the Food Bank. The snow started to fall. It was pretty. We were all excited. We were contemplating when to shut down. We decided we’d close the doors in an hour to give enough time for our drivers to get back to the warehouse. Little did we know that the 2 inches of snow we ended up getting would immediately turn to ice. By the time we started to get our things and jump in our cars, we quickly realized we were not going anywhere. Not only were we having difficulty getting our cars out of the parking lot, but the ones that managed to get out ended up coming right back because cars were abandoned and blocking our two ways out. So our entire staff (minus a few folks) spent the night at the Food Bank. Two of us actually stayed two nights. There are worst places to end up that’s for sure especially as I remember how many people were stranded in their cars on the highways that night. My husband stayed two nights at his work and my son was with his grandparents. We were very lucky. One of the most anxious moments of the entire situation was being stranded at the Food Bank and unable to leave. You see, my Dad was dying 3 hours away. He didn’t have long and at this point I knew that it was just a matter of time. It was incredibly difficult to be in a place where I couldn’t leave or to have to spend all of that time thinking about what was sure to come. I was separated from my family and going through one of the worst experiences of my life, but I guess it also provided incredible perspective at a time when I needed it most. My Dad died 9 days later. You can read my tribute to him here. I realize that this story took a more serious turn than I expected to share, but I guess what I want to say is that I have grown to appreciate Alabama’s weather craziness.  Just so we are clear, I have not grown to appreciate Alabama’s other crazy because there is plenty of that, but let’s just focus on the weather crazy for now.

And so yesterday, the weather folk started talking about “the possibility for snow and ice like Snowmageddon 2014.” Everybody started sitting up a little straighter. School closings were announced a little earlier. Bread and milk disappeared off the grocery shelves. And now we wait and watch live broadcasts talking about the snow that COULD MIGHT SHOULD happen. This is kind of normal for us. We wait most of our lives for significant snow events and we all know that it may or may not happen. This creates incredible resiliency for children living in the South, by the way. For example, my 6-year-old has been waiting by the window all morning and has asked at least 30 times “when is it going to snow, Mom?” The only thing a Southern parent can possibly say at this point is “soon” knowing very well that there is a higher possibility that the snow may not happen at all.  We know this because this was our reality as children and we’ve had years and years to accept it.

So how do we cure broken snow hearts? We make biscuits and pancakes. And bacon. And cookies. I recently bought some sprouted wheat flour and decided to make our biscuits and pancakes with it this morning. (Yes, I’m cheating on White Lily flour. Let’s just keep this between us.) Biscuit recipe can be found here.




Pancake recipe can be found here.




Both were delicious. Now, I sit and wait. My 6-year-old has decided to “count until infinity OR until the snow comes” and we are at 164 at this point. I don’t think any biscuits or pancakes can save us. Send all good thoughts our way. As for perspective, I’m looking on the positive side of this weird “snow and ice or maybe no snow and ice snow day.” I’m safe at home with my family surrounded by sprouted wheat biscuits and pancakes. And bacon. And cookies.

175, 176, 177, 178…