Snowpocalypse 2-8-2026

For days the weather news predicted Snowpocalypse 2026. Thursday, the sun shone warmly as I went into town to exercise and pick up a dozen eggs. I couldn’t think of anything else I might need if snow kept us home.Friday, clouds hung around the horizon. I went to town to exercise and buy a can of pepper. I really didn’t need anything else. Across town generators, flashlights and batteries began disappearing off the shelves. A steady flow of customers filled buggies with milk, bread, cases of water, ramen noodles, sausage, eggs and snacks. All through the town folks pledged, “We will not starve. We will not freeze to death. We will be prepared.” By the end of office hours on Friday, the clerk at the grocery store stood near the exit door saying, “Thank you for coming. We appreciate your business.” “We have been busy all day long,” she told me.Friday night, I peeked out the window at the yard. Nothing but darkness and dry grass. No howling wind or the tap of sleet against the window woke me that night.Saturday morning, icy snow covered the driveway and street. The mist had frozen, one tiny bit at a time. The estate sale managers canceled the sale I wanted to attend. Stores closed. Silence descended over the neighborhood as folks huddled inside. “Stay off the road unless it is absolutely necessary ” newscasters advised gravely. We had too much snow and ice to travel safely except with a four-wheeler or sled. Family cooks began making soups, breads, meals and snacks. Pastors canceled services and recorded sermons.Sunday morning, we had more icy snow on our yard and driveway. Some played on the slippery, icy snow and made snow angels. I stayed inside, watched icicles form along the roofline, piled on another layer of clothes and turned up the thermostat Monday, no school. Nothing thawed. Icicles grew longer. On Facebook folks began wondering if their dwindling supply of snacks would last. Despite their ancient motto of always delivering, the mailmen and women did not come. Tuesday, patches of cement appeared on the driveway and asphalt roads. The bravest walked gingerly out to their vehicles. They ventured into town for groceries only to see bare shelves in the produce and dairy departments.Hubby drove by the post office. “I saw no tracks anywhere in the parking lot.”He visited the grocery store to pick up a carton of milk. “They only had lactose free chocolate milk,” he announced.Wednesday, anywhere the sun shone on roads or driveways the ice melted. Still no school. Late in the day I went in to exercise and to see if the supply trucks had arrived at the grocery stores. Seeing long stretches of black counters in the usually colorful produce department I commented to another shopper, “When the truck comes in, the staff will be busy restocking,” Thursday, no school. Hubby’s church group met. Mine didn’t. I went to town to exercise and to buy the fresh fruit that we needed. Friday, no school. Shady road spots still protected some ice from melting. Perishable foods began returning to the shelves. Fast food places reopened. Saturday, only small patches of ice remained. The roads buzzed with activity. The parking lots were filled as cabin fever propelled folks out of the house in search of civilization. Folks needed human contact and retail therapy. I found bargains at the estate sale. The midwinter staycation officially ended. Second Sunday, churches opened their doors. Second Monday schools reopened. The snowpocalypse ended. Everyone across the south had had enough snow fun to last for a very long time to come.