Once again, we had a warm fall to the point that my winter garden remained stunted until the last couple of weeks when the night temperatures kickstarted my cabbage and greens only to be gut punched by a harsh winter storm to sweep down and cover our land in a snowy layer of ice, snow, and sleet. Or so it is being projected. To a person from up north such an event would be as big of a deal as we see a category 1 hurricane. But to people in the south, it is a plethora of emotions because we are simply ill equipped.
Our cold is damp and sinks straight through to the bones. Our roads turn to ice and our tires and drivers are not seasoned at driving in these conditions. Our blood is thin from braving the 100-degree days of summer. Our pipes are wrapped in old socks and scrap sheets. Our fireplaces are ready to go but that only warms the belly of the dwelling. And by mid-January a southerner has eaten just about all the stew and soup they want to eat for a long while.
Yes, we people down in the south have a well earned right to whine because we hunker down and battle through storms, droughts, and heat waves like warriors! There is a reason we live down here, and it is not only for the sunshine and food. We prefer being warm.
And now we are being told that snow is coming. Will this be a sludgy winter mix that turns to gray mush? Will this be a snowy powder that lands on the branches, causing them to snap and pop powerlines? Will there be no electricity? Will the satsuma trees not pull through? And my garden?
Through sheer determination I have decided to fight back with the same vigor I use cooking out of the freezer before named storms start barreling onto shore.
My raised beds are covered in everything I could drag out from an old rug about to go on the burn pile to a hot tub cover from an old inflatable tub that did not last two winters. I have beach towels and garbage bags covering my pansies, five-gallon buckets covering my young fig trees and cabbage plants. And everything from my rosemary to my tote that is converted to a worm bed has been moved inside. If it could be moved, it has been moved to warm shelter because it is going to be cold.
A fellow master gardener just returned from Minnesota for a holiday visit with family. He showed our group photos of the large cabin covered in snow. The lake covered in snow. The back deck and peer covered in snow. It is solid white as far as the eye can see. And once the first snow falls that is the view outside for close to six months up there. And what was also covered in snow was any sign of a road or even a driveway. When I asked about this, he explained that they basically hunker down for the winter.
They have chains on their tires when they must drive. They have gas and alternative forms of energy. They have a stocked pantry, and their homes are equipped for heavy snow.
My thinking? If the Civil War had been fought in Minnesota, it would likely have only lasted a week. And there is no southerner who is as equipped mentally to hunker down in a cabin for six months with the forecast of freezing weather with a chance of sun in early spring.
This winter storm will come, and we will hunker down for three days with our two loaves of fresh bread and lunch meat and batteries. We will wear coats inside and fuzzy socks drinking hot tea or coffee. We will shake our heads at the sight while we wash wet towels from trudging in and out.
And in two weeks we will be back in shorts walking our dog waving Old Man Winter down the dirt road as he fades back up north to stir up another blizzard. See you in a year or two.
