The TV weather forecasters are in their element. It's nonstop camera time and the Matron does notice their make-up. We're talking men here. Women are better at concealment.
Merrick: "Do those guys decide the weathew?"
Matron: "They don't decide but just tell us what the sky is doing."
Merrick: "But they know the sky. Can't they make even mowe snow come?"
So, like half of Minnesota, today the Matron spent four times too much money on groceries (and wine) to prepare for 48 hours without the ability to drive. She filled up the van with gas and made sure the shovels and salt were ready.
If you've never lived in the land of snow, ice and below zero temperatures, she's here to tell you that it's worse than you imagine.
But all of those weathermen forecasting the future keep referring to the last big, big blizzard: October 1991.
"This will be just like the Halloween blizzard of 91."
"We haven't seen anything like this since 1991."
"Might be a repeat of 1991."
And that blizzard was when the Matron -- then a Young Miss -- met her husband. And all she can do is be happy about the storm to come.
