Several weeks ago I blogged about the mania surrounding even the possibility of a light dusting of snow in Memphis. I poked a little fun at myself and my community for our obsessive weather-watching and emergency grocery runs. After nearly 14 years in Memphis I have watched and ridden the it-might-snow roller-coaster enough times to understand all of its ups and downs and to assume, fairly safely, that this entrenched behavior is unlikely to change.
Today, however, proved once again just how erroneous assumptions can be.
Yesterday was a breezy, chilly day, but nothing unusual for this time of year here. Upon Boy 1's return from his Super Bowl party, at which time the rest of us learned that the Saints had finally prevailed, we all drifted off to bed in anticipation of a Monday filled with classes, field trips, work, and all the other usual activities.
We awoke, however, to a winter wonderland! Silently our world had been blanketed overnight by four inches of snowflakes. So silent had the blanketing been that Boy 1 was up and showered and dressed before his father, making coffee in the kitchen, glanced out the window and beheld the glistening of street light upon the frosted boughs.
How could this be? So much snow came without a whisper. No warning to stock up on frozen pizza and chips. No hint that I might get to sleep in that so distracts me that I stay up late watching every possible weather forecasting model.
All I can say is that even an old dog like Memphis can learn a few new tricks.
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