Little Condominium on the Prairie

What I know of blizzards comes from the books of Laura Ingalls Wilder. In The Long Winter, she writes about blizzard-after-blizzard on the Northern plains where there were, for instance, no trees to burn. Houses were made of plywood with tar-paper insulation (not good). The fuel of choice was coal, with a second choice (not mentioned by the very-proper Ms. Wilder) of cow chips. As an adult, you read Ms. Wilder differently than you do as a child.

The farms there were hardly established. Railroad distribution was essential, and the trains could not get through, not even by hiring crews to shovel snow as they went. The communities that depended on rail nearly starved and froze to death. For fuel, they braided straw into tightly packed rope and burned it. It didn't last worth a damn, next to the coal they couldn't get, and the snow just kept coming. The entire day was spent making more fuel for the fire they were sitting right in front of as much as possible.

But in the Twenty-First Century
Well, here in my hometown it's not that bad. The last of the chips left before the Super Bowl, mostly, except for the exotic flavors such as Carolina Crab Chip. You can still buy soft drinks, cookies, and regular bread.  The frozen pizzas are mostly gone, but the upscale ones remain. Frozen lima beans are still available. So is prepacked sushi--eat at your own risk. I'd seriously have to boil it first. But:

The juice case is completely empty, the butter and margarine is down to dropped boxes/other rejects.

Eggs disappeared three days ago, and milk two and a half days ago from the grocery and the drug store.

What's left of the meat case is reduced for quick sale and starting to reek.  Ditto, bananas. There's one bag of kale left and no broccoli or potatoes.

Everyone must have become ill, because nearly all the toilet paper has disappeared.

It's all about storage and distribution. The cows are still making milk, it can still be churned to butter and cheese, the fruit is still shipping into Florida from Chile--they just can't figure out how to get it into my store.

I'm not complaining. I still have milk. I was also able, by going to the liquor store, to find the last quart of orange juice in my neighborhood. $3.50, but worth it to this post-flu patient.

However, we are supposed to get another 16 to 24 inches starting tomorrow. I will get grumpy when the milk for my coffee runs out.  Perhaps I will at last learn to like it black.