I stood in the kitchen last week, when I heard the weather report for mid-week.
They were calling for a snowstorm, but they also said it would genuinely fizzle out before it got to our area.
My fiance kept saying he had a bad feeling about this storm. He cleaned the oil furnace and made sure all of us had a full tank of oil. He cleaned the chimney and got wood stacked up on the porch. He was afraid that if the power went out, all of us would need to use the fireplace to keep us warm. By the weekend, the weatherman was now talking about a snowstorm that was heading our way, and they were calling for up to several inches of snow. On Wednesday, the storm was being upgraded and they were predicting about a foot of snow. By Wednesday, when the storm began in earnest, my fiance had the porch lined up with enough wood to keep the fireplace burning for a week. We had a full tank of oil for the oil furnace, and he had the snowplow on the truck. Before the storm ended on Wednesday morning, all of us had almost more than one feet of snow and the temperatures had plummeted from the mid-forties to the mid teens and they weren’t going up. I was happy that all of us didn’t lose the electricity, but all of us still had to have the fireplace running. The wind was howling, and it seemed to be right through the house. As much as I laughed at my fiance’s worry over the storm at the beginning, I was happy he was prepared.