Boy, do I

love winter in Georgia.

The crack

of ice-coated tree limbs, the groan of the electrical

power surges before shutdown, the happy faces of children

anticipating a snow day... it's simply more excitement

than one can endure.

With the

prospect of a history-making storm blowing our way, I

stocked up on survival foods Wednesday (bread, milk,

cookies, peanut butter, cookies, soup, crackers, bananas

and cookies), only to return late Friday for replacement

items. (More bread, milk, cookies, etc.) The giddy high

reached by my children Thursday evening when

"Fayette County Schools Closed" flashed across

the TV screen was sent plummeting Friday morning when the

unblemished sole of K-Mart's final reduction sale boots

met dry ground at 7 a.m.

"There's

no snow!" wailed the kids. "Now what do we

do?"

Suggestions

of doing last night's homework or walking the dog went

nowhere. Instead, Friday turned into a TV-video

game-snacking marathon. Hence, the return trip to the

grocery.

But

Saturday, weather reports were still warning us of winter

disaster. A slight chance of snow, possible sleet, icy

rain... yes, there were enough icicles dripping off the

roof for my son to bat down, but still no real white

stuff. A thin layer of ice coated the back deck; just

enough to cause bodily harm. Are we having fun yet?

Another afternoon chock full of family togetherness.

"Mom,

Nick chewed up the video game we got from

Blockbuster." "Stop that! You may not snowboard

down the stairs!" "Mom, Julia took too much

Monopoly money." "We're hungry; there's nothing

to eat."

Yes, a trip

to the grocery store. That's what I needed to clear my

head. As I headed through the automatic door, I decided

to make this visit a vacation, not a chore. I cruised the

aisles slowly, spent 30 minutes at the magazine rack and

another 10 minutes searching for bubble bath that wasn't

sporting the head of a Walt Disney or Sesame Street

character and another 15 minutes selecting the best mango

in the store.

On the

drive home, fantasized about sunny stretches of beach,

tall tropical drinks and the smell of coconut sunscreen.

The latest radio weather blurb predicted the so-called

storm would slip out of town Sunday, but warned of a

strong winter front slowly moving our way from

California. Possible effects might be felt as early as

Wednesday. "Oh, great," I thought.

"Another week of disaster preparedness. School or no

school. Ice or no ice. Snow accumulations or

dustings."

The big

paper thudded into the driveway just as the power died

Sunday morning. Scout-ready, I clicked on my Coleman

lantern and zeroed in on the Travel section... Aruba,

three nights from $399, Grand Cayman from $599...

Crrrrraaaaack, tree limb removed from roof, $450. Boy, do

I love Georgia winters.

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