It’s only fitting that since my gal has been belting out tunes from “Frozen” for a few weeks that the landscape would take heed. No sooner did eager meterologists take to giving winter storms cool names did Leon wreak havoc. First, my hometown of Atlanta fell under the slippery spell when millions of motorists hopped in their cars around noon to retrieve kids from schools that cut their day short with the plan of helping families get home safely.

One of my brothers who teaches middle school, hung out for hours since buses and parents couldn’t get to school, and he completed his commute with a 2-mile walk, making it home before midnight. Another brother and his wife were finally able to get to their daughter’s school around dinner time, and they made it home at 11pm, zigging and zagging around the less fortunate motorists without all-wheel drive. My mom spent ten hours in the car and still wasn’t able to get home, so she had an impromptu sleepover at a gracious stranger’s house. They became fast friends.

The talk of snow had Charleston buzzing. It looked like a sure thing, and people were excited to see palmetto trees, beaches, and depressed winter yards get a coating of blissful fluff. All we got was ice. And some cool leaf fossils. It was quiet and peaceful, but man, was it cold. For days. And as if a 5-day weekend over MLK day wasn’t enough, school was cancelled two days and cut short two others. We sipped lots of cocoa, but the only snowmen around here were on a Lego scale. No offense January, but I’m glad to see you go.

Crocs and PJs, that’s how we roll. But my cross-country skis from Boston days are ready, just in case.

Please “like” this post if you’re ready for Groundhog-Superbowl Day! And please reach out if you’re ready to book a vitamin-D-licious spring session. Stay cozy, y’all.