How Hoosiers Survive a Snowstorm




In this blog, I will deal with the topic of how Hoosiers survive a snowstorm. I would like to say Rooster and I did great. #National Weather Service #Hoosers #Indiana #snowstorm

How Hoosiers Survive a Snowstorm

Here in Central Indiana, the first winter snowstorm is always a significant event. The minute the winter storm warnings scroll across the television screen people run to the grocery to buy eggs, bread, and milk.

Nobody can give a reason why these three items are essential to making it through a foot of snow, but they seem to be necessary for survival. One theory floating around is French toast making, and a large amount of snowfall goes hand in hand. I beg to differ with this point of view. I have survived many an Indiana snowstorm including the blizzard of 1978 without making French toast. Still, this hoarding behavior is how Hoosiers survive a snowstorm.

My explanation for the run on bread, eggs, and milk.

I believe the overbuying of these three items in the face of a pending disaster is merely a matter of tradition. It’s what our parents did, so it makes sense we run out and do it too. The second step we take to get ready for the deluge of snow is to make sure we have enough gasoline on hand to operate the generator and the snowblower. It’s always a good idea to be prepared like a Boy Scout when massive amounts of the white stuff fall from the sky.


How Hoosiers survive the snowstorm if the forecasters are wrong?

The storm has yet to make an appearance, and a person could have already spent two week’s pay on groceries and gasoline. Your betting on the fact the weatherman isn’t wrong about the imminent threat this time. You know the whole forecast game is a crapshoot. They get it wrong 99.9% of the time. Hence, you get stuck with a lot of eggs, and milk. Therefore the next month French toast will be on the menu because of a light dusting of snow.

I know I’ve experienced a letdown after one of these off the mark forecasts don’t deliver the threat which was promised. The only thing left for a person to do is sit and wait to see how everything is going to play out. The time for the arrival of the storm passes, and all there is nothing to show for the trouble you went to in preparation for its arrival except a refrigerator full of milk and eggs and bread in your cupboard. Whatever happens, this is how Hoosiers survive a snowstorm.


How Rooster and I survived the first snowstorm of 2019.

This year’s first snowstorm came late. In a typical winter, the white stuff starts falling from the sky in November. We’ve even been known to have the occasional white Christmas. This year’s temperatures have remained above freezing. Any precipitation we received came to us in the form of rain.

They say it’s a sign of global warming. Rooster loves the absence of cold. He’s a California kid, born and raised in San Bernardino. Winters here in Indiana are torture for the California boy with thin blood even after living in Indiana for thirty plus years.

To begin with. things break when temperatures drop below zero. The thought of going outside to fix stuff sends shock waves through Rooster’s system. I would do the repairs, but I’m not mechanically inclined.

He has already started his count down to spring. The man was enjoying the unusually warm January weather. He was under the false impression it would last until April. I decided my best course of action was to allow him to wallow in his delusion.

On Friday night, we headed for the grocery store to do our weekly shopping. There were so many eggs, bread, and milk hunters roaming the isles they made shopping for our usual stuff difficult. The first winter storm warning of the season went out during the day while we were at work. We climbed into bed that night convinced we were going to wake up to only a light dusting.

The snowstorm arrives.

In fact, we got up smug knowing we’d been right about the forecast. There wasn’t even enough snow on our front lawn to cover what remained of our grass. Rooster left for work, and I sat down at my computer to do a little writing. I was in the middle of creating an intense love scene when the snow started coming down for real.

By noon, the world outside was covered in with a thick cold blanket of white. Snow continued to fall throughout the day and into the night. We had to make one trip to get our granddaughter to work. We were able to follow the snow plow most of the way. Rooster ran the snowblower while I made dinner when we got back home. He wasn’t happy about the situation.


The way a snowstorm feels.

A freaky thing happens when enough of the white stuff falls. Sounds from the outside world get muffled. An intense brightness swallows up even the darkest night. The streets appear deserted. Folks with any common sense will stay home and catch up on their writing or watch TV. The police say crime goes down in a snowstorm. It’s too hard for criminals to move around in the snow.

There are a few hardy souls who will venture out into the madness. They have jobs they need to get to, or they forgot to buy their allotted amount of bread, eggs, and milk. Some people even enjoy playing in the freezing cold. They take part in ridiculous activities such as sledding and ice skating. Drivers slip and slide along the roadways in search of the perfect hill to ride their sleds. Most of them should have stayed at home where it’s warm and dry, but I guess everyone has their own idea of what constitutes an excellent adventure.


Rooster’s coping strategy for surviving the storm.

Rooster spent the evening searching for property in the southern part of the United States. His big desire is for us to spend our retirement years in a place that is warm and free of freezing precipitation in any form. He’s been known to randomly announce the temperatures of Biloxi and New Orleans. He tracks their weather on his cell phone.

We have at least seven inches of the white stuff covering the ground. I can hear the grating sound of the city snowplow pushing the heavy snow around on the street outside my door. There is a chill in the room because our old house has drafty doors and windows. My world has turned into a frozen tundra, and I’m beginning to think Rooster has the right idea.

Maybe we should become snowbirds and spend our winters in New Orleans. The one thing I know about Rooster is he’s cheap, cheap, cheap. He would bulk at the idea of depleting our hard-earned retirement money relocating to the south for part of the year. Being a snowbird is expensive, but you can’t take it with you when you go.

Maybe it’s time to pack our bags, climb into the Sunshine Mobile, and hit the road. It would be one fantastic adventure, but reality has a way of putting the brakes on a dream. We have bills to pay, responsibilities to meet, and many miles to go before we fall asleep.


Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana, who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!


Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

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