I'm sitting at my kitchen table, eating a second bowl of my mother's famous chicken noodle soup, a huge batch of which she made in advance of the serious winter snow storm headed this way.
Our entire metropolitan area is under a winter storm warning, this rural town in the mountains bracing for a snow total expected to exceed twenty inches. As of this afternoon, the Mountain Town region was slated for one to two feet of snow.
My mother rushed to the grocery store today to stock up on food and other essentials, and tonight she's herding the family out to the movies while the roads are still clear, before we're hit around midnight.
"We're going to be stuck in this house for two or three days," she said when I objected to accompanying them. "We should get out and do something while we can."
All throughout Saturday, we're expected to accumulate one to two inches per hour, and possibly more.
Once the deluge begins, our family will be well supplied with soup, meat, snacks, toilet paper, soap, DVDs, and anything else we need to remain self-sufficient during what is sure to be a blowout.
I'm quite excited.