A forecast of four to ten inches of snow in Richmond causes some people to act so oddly that it provides entertainment value for those of us not as inclined to get our panties in a wad over some winter precipitation.
When I walked by the Kroger at 10:30 this morning, it was mobbed. And by mobbed, I mean like day-before-Thanksgiving mobbed; Kroger is undoubtedly having a banner sales day.
When I arrived home from running errands around 1, my landlord had already been by and scattered oodles of a noxious ice-melting pellet mixture all over my steps. And porch. And sidewalk. And walkway. I think I'm good now.
Walking the dog, I spoke with a couple of neighbors just coming home from work. Both told me they are in for the weekend, as in, not leaving the house for any reason. Right.
I, on the other hand, accepted a friend's invitation to eat dinner somewhere together tomorrow night. He lives a mere two miles from me and we figure that between his house and mine, we will be able to find an open restaurant tomorrow evening, even if we both have to walk to meet. But we will meet.
I also got an e-mail from another friend wanting to meet for brunch late Sunday morning. Did I hem and haw about planning to meet in the aftermath of the Great December snowfall? I did not. We made our plans without a second thought about the forecasted weather.
Please excuse my lack of concern for the impending doom of snowfall. As a guy from Connecticut visiting rva told me last night, Richmonders are so cute about snow. Cute is not what I aim for.