This holding pattern is taking forever. We have known for days that a big snowstorm is coming. We didn't need to do much prep. We have plenty of food, as we have been running a surplus for the entire pandemic. I suppose I could store up a little extra drinking water and charge the external phone batteries.
The waiting is getting to me, not gonna lie. I have been begging Mother Nature for a snowstorm measured in feet for years. I may finally get my chance on Saturday. Of course, the key word in that statement is "may." I've seen several people post some version of "could be 60 inches, could be just rain." As we get closer, models are starting to narrow it down to between two and four feet. Obviously I am hoping for the latter, and am resigned to the former.
I expect to lose DirecTV. I hope I don't lose power or internet. Then we can continue to watch the latest series we started tonight (the Cumberbatch/Freeman Sherlock from last decade, that we never watched until now.) And it is nearly Selection Sunday. I didn't watch nearly as much basketball as I would have liked this year, but the tournament is going to be a bit unusual, if I understand correctly. No way I want to miss that. Otherwise, it's candles and hardback books.
I was so focused on checking the weather forecast every two minutes, I forgot I was supposed to play with the baby this afternoon. She was a dynamo, crawling everywhere. Luckily it was all good fun. No cranky-face today. And she thought it was hilarious to play with the remote that controls grandma's bed. The best stuff was on video, but I did get one still...
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