[UPDATE: See a video of Jim Cantore's report from Paducah]
[Monday night: Jim Cantore interviews Paducah's own Steve Smith]
The photo above (click for a larger version) I snapped just a few moments ago through the glass of my front storm door. It is, indeed, quite icy in these parts and the precipitation continues. Jim Cantore of The Weather Channel has set up camp in downtown Paducah which means, in case you're unaware, that we are well and truly f!cked weather-wise.
I've (knock wood) suffered no ill effects from the storm save for the loss of my DirecTV signal which, while irritating, will probably serve to make me more productive than I would have been otherwise in this situation. I continue to enjoy electricty, but if I lose my internet connection, well, that's when the real whining will start.
I haven't ventured too far outside, but the stuff on the ground looks more slushy than anything. I suspect the roads are passable at the moment, but if the temperature drops as predicted, we are going to have a mess on our hands, really and truly.
The Channel 6 Weather Sqwauckers have been in their element since yesterday chicken-littling "for real". As I'm fond of reporting, the local weather wonks are in the habit of exaggerating the slightest snowfall into rather more of a Weather Situation than is appropriate. This, in turn, causes the local population to dash to the store and frantically buy up all available bread, eggs, and milk. I concluded long ago that this can only mean they then drive home at top speed, dash into their kitchens, and begin preparing massive amounts of french toast. Meanwhile, school in the entire region is called off at the first sign of a snowflake of any kind so children everywhere can be present at their kitchen tables to begin the daunting task of eating up all the french toast. It really is exhausting.
The current situation, however, may be severe enough to actually justify french toast. I suppose it is good The Plan is in place for just such occasions.
As I wrote that last sentence, an ice-laden tree branch gave way with a crack that sounded rather like a gunshot.
Perhaps it's time I stopped my smart-assed blogging. And, oh I don't know, maybe go mix up a nice batch of, say, french toast?
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