my horizon this afternoon

There's a charge in the air today. An eery, electrifying charge full of anticipation. Anticipation for what's supposed to be a storm to be remembered.

The trees are rattling back and forth as the howling wind blows clouds of powder through the air.  It's times like this I really wish my home had an actual foundation. You know, like cement instead of siding. But no offense, dearest double wide. Just please. Stay in one place. Let's not pull any Dorothy and Todo's farmhouse shenanigans.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe this storm won't live up to all the fuss the National Weather Service is making. Part of me hopes so. But a braver, more adventurous side of me hopes it lives up to the hype and more. There's something exhilarating knowing you're going up against all nature can throw at you. Some raw basal instinct. Man v Wild in truest form.

Storms have always excited me. Growing up my favorite channel to watch was the Weather Channel. I kid not. What 7th grader do you know could sit for hours in front of the TV watching the weather? I dreamt of becoming a tornado/hurricane/Bermuda triangle chaser. Or at the very least, the local charming weather woman.

Somewhere along the way I lost my intrigue for weather related careers, but my fascination with storms is still there. I get a little giddy, seeing a storm front crawl across the horizon.

And so today, I wait. I've been glued to my window, waiting for Mother Nature to arrive in full wintery glory. 

I can't hold in my excitement.

I know that's really weird to a lot of you. "She can't wait to DIE out in that arctic wasteland?"

Heck yes.

Bring on the storm.

P.S. While I really love a good storm, I'm hoping it doesn't shut down the one and only highway home. Tomorrow, the day we're traveling home for Thanksgiving, with wind chill it's supposed to be -35. As in thirty five degrees below zero. If they close the highway due to icy conditions we may be stuck here for Thanksgiving. And that would be bad seeing as how I'm at the end of my 2 week grocery supply. Sure, we have loads of canned food, but Spaghettios just doesn't quite compare to home made mashed potatoes and roasted turkey. Cross your fingers for us. Thank you.

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