Call of the wild.

We woke up to a nice 6 inches of snow today. I was tremendously relieved.  I so wanted the forecast to prove reliable and all my mad scurrying to be worthwhile.
it's the weirdest thing. Whenever the news predicts snow I go into hyper-nesting mode like some mad squirrel. I go to the store* (usually numerous trips) and spend all of our money on food. I make detailed and strict meal plans that should get us by comfortably until apocalypse.
I stow it all away into the cupboards, clean, air, and urgently fluff the house until everyone at home feels properly alienated.
Then, once the snow starts to quietly fall, the spell is broken. I am no longer under nature's curse and I go back to my quiet preferences. This time with a smug little smile that dares the winter snow to try and make me uncomfortable.
It's silly really, but there it is.
Sometimes it backfires when predictions fail and I scour and squirrel away for 5 days of rain. But then again, the house is sparkling and I am flushed with the thrill of that close call...

* Kent goes to the store.
Image via Cup of Joe?...I forget.