So, let’s see …

The libraries are closed today (which would normally delight me, except I already had the day off).  I got an email from Chase bank saying that their branches were closing at 11 am.  The MTA is stopping mass transit service at noon. The weather people on TV are DELIGHTED that they’re covering such an exciting story.  Many of them are standing out in empty and windswept areas just to show how empty and windswept they are.

My boyfriend took my suggestion of going out to the store to get ingredients for making waffles on Sunday morning since our usual Sunday brunch plans are out of the question.  Except he decided to shop today instead of yesterday.  He’s standing on line at C-Town right now, where the store is packed with people who are shopping like they are preparing for the apocalypse.  I asked him to take a picture of the lines inside, and he just sent me this:

My poor sweetie.  Well, at least we’ll have waffles tomorrow!

He also called to point out that this was exactly the kind of situation my mother has been preparing for.  She’s not a hoarder, exactly, but she’s always been afraid of running out of stuff.  When we were kids, my best friend Chrissy used to call our apartment “the fallout shelter” because of all of the canned goods, toilet paper, etc. that we had around JUST IN CASE.  When I was living there, I didn’t notice it as much, but when I would go back to visit as an adult I would be shocked to realize that she had 63 rolls of toilet paper, just to give an example.  And yes, I actually counted.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, like I did when I was a teenager, WHY my mother has this mentality, I will tell you what she told me when I asked her about it.  I asked her if Chrissy’s theory, that my mother stocked up on stuff because she grew up during and after WWII in a displaced persons camp, was correct.  My mother’s answer was that they actually had it pretty good in the camp, that they had local food supplemented by the Spam and Hershey bars that came in the CARE packages.  She said that she shopped like that because living with my father was worse than living in the displaced persons camp, and that she remembered a day that there was one can of peas in the house and she had two small children to feed.

Thanks, Dad!

Anyway, I usually visit my mother once a week to bring her books and DVDs from the library and leftovers from our kitchen to supplement her Meals on Wheels food.  I called her on Friday when I got home from work to tell her that I would come by on Friday night instead of Saturday because of the transportation issues this weekend.  She cut me off and told me not to come at all, and just to come next weekend instead.  I asked her if she had enough food, and she laughed and said YES.  I’m also going to hazard a guess that she’s fine in the toilet paper department.

ETA: My boyfriend just walked in.  He had a half-hour wait on the express line at C-Town to buy waffle ingredients, half-and half, and kitty litter.  Now he’s going back out to see what’s available from the vendors who showed up at the farmer’s market this morning.

ETA: Only three vendors showed up at the farmer’s market — the turkey guy, the beef guy, and one of the vegetable guys.  They were all selling out of their stuff and getting ready to pack up.  My boyfriend bought us a couple of steaks for Sunday night, so we are now officially supplied for the weekend.

Okay, guys, that’s it.  Stay dry and stay safe!

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