Snow hotties are coming. Remember him from last winter? Yeah. Sigh. Me, too.

Wednesday, Mr. G, honey came home and told me that our weather service said that snowmageddon was coming. Wow. Was that some Snow Grinch I was hearing?

Me: Snowmageddon?  Weather Dude actually said,  “snowmageddon”?

Mr. G: Yup.  About half a meter in the next three days. Maybe 25 centimeters just tomorrow. Gotta check the snowblower.

Me: Mentally calculating. Um. That’s like 19+ inches. Almost ten tomorrow.

Mr. G: Bouncing on feet. Yup. Lots of white out conditions and blowing snow.

I’m thinking Mr. G, honey was getting a little snowblower buzz.

Me. Not so much. Let me tell you that made me rethink the rest of my pre-Christmas frenzy, as in when I would do the Big grocery shop — usually the last minute; when I would finish gift shopping — usually the last minute; when I would hit The Beer Store, the L.C.B.O. — usually the last minute. Are you getting the trend here? Yes, I am usually doing Christmas at the last minute, no matter how much I plan ahead. Stuff happens. Things crop up.

This year I said that I was going to have my tree up and trimmed right after Thanksgiving, just like my mama does. Ha. Ha. Ha. Up December 1st. Finished trimming the 16th. Cards and packages to the US barely made the deadline. Okay, some might not have. Actually, I know for sure they didn’t.

But Weather Dude has put the fear of snowmageddon into me. He’s shown me the 600 plows at the ready, given me a glimpse of the domes of salt waiting to be scooped and thrown.

So, Thursday, I rushed around like I had a hot coal down the back of my snow pants. Loblaws. Check. Bulk Barn. Check. Canada Post. Check. L.C.B.O., The Beer Store. Check. Check.  If snowmageddon becomes a reality in the next 24 hours, I can pretty much survive now and have a few gazillion hours of imposed quantity time in the snow cave for baking … writing … baking … wrapping … baking … cleaning … thawing gloves, mittens, scarves.

If that happens, I hope Sven is across the planet annoying — I mean encouraging — some other Sven sweater. I wouldn’t want to get snowed-in with Sven. He might catch me counting snow hotties.

Elen