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It Doesn’t Snow Here In The South So What’s That White Stuff?

Southern Snow

I moved South about 20 years ago. I did it solely to get away from the cold and the snow and the ice and the blizzards. I thought I could add to my life expectancy doing that. I’d had my share of 360’s and backsliding. Sometimes a 360 stops at 360 and you’re okay. Sometimes someone wins the lottery but it’s never you. You’re always a number short across the board.

I was very happy with move. In 2010 we got a warning of snow. I snorted. I got up the next morning to see what it amounted to. I’ve seen frost heavier than that snow. I snorted and went back to bed. My wife asked how bad it was. I snorted at her. She told me not to ever snort at her or I could sleep in the other bedroom.

I got up later when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and saw the little girls from next door standing there. They asked if they could get snow from my yard. They wanted to build a snowman and didn’t have enough snow in their own yard for that. I told to go ahead. I then decided to be Mr. Good Neighbor. I told them they’d be better off making snowballs. I gathered some snow and showed them how to do it.

“Gee, mister, that’s nice. What do you do with this?,” one asked.

I told her that you threw it at something. I didn’t realize the something they’d think of was me. I ducked the first one. I ducked right into the second one. Out-smarted by a couple of first and second graders. It wasn’t like I could make one and throw it at them. Their parents might be watching. I did the only dignified thing, “Very good, girls. You ought to take one into the house and throw it at your parents.” I went back inside. That was it except for the local paper saying we were having an “Arctic blast.” Maybe not.

My wife told me recently we were supposed to get 3 inches of snow. I gave her a look she didn’t care for but couldn’t really prove meant anything. I was thinking she was watching the weather channel talking about some place in the North. A covering I might have bought but 3 inches was goofy. I thought she was being gullible. Three inches my butt.

I woke up to 5 inches of the damn stuff. I took my dog out first thing as usual. She sank up to her head. She’s a chiweenie and has no height at all. This was her first snow and she gave me such a pitiful look I had to go out and kick a spot open for her to piss. She came in and ran to the bedroom. I put her on the bed and she dived under the covers with my wife. She ran from me the rest of the day.

I went out to make my coffee and tried to think my way out of what my wife’s going to say when she wakes up and looks outside. To my surprise and relief she said nothing but had an amused look on her face. I really hate that.

Charleston doesn’t handle change well. Snow was something they had heard of but never experienced. I’m not sure they didn’t think it was another Yankee trick. The first day we had 900 accidents. I thought they were as stupid as someone skying for the first time with no instructions. I think they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. I also think they didn’t have a clue what happens when you drive in snow and ice. I also thought they were too dangerous for me to drive with. I don’t work so I said, “To hell with it”.

I admit I’m no Nanook of the North but if I have to slide out of my driveway I know I don’t belong on the road. I mean down here in the South. Up North it’s not a big deal. You simple watch you angles of slide and make the proper adjustments. We used to have accidents but only accidentally. We knew what we were doing although it didn’t look like it. It got that the cops wouldn’t come out for as accident.

“Umm, you guys work it out. You’re both at fault if we come out. Keep it civil and don’t call again.” This was the State Police telling us that.

I watched the local channels describing the overly dangerous road conditions and warning people to stay off the roads unless absolutely necessary. Well, don’t throw a steak at a lion and don’t poke a bear in the butt with a stick and don’t tell a good ole boy not to drive on the roads. You could hear the trucks cranking up. None of them got much farther than their neighbor’s yard. It did help to clear the street a little bit. A few managed to make it to the main road before sliding away. We even had a firetruck slide off. Fortunately, the roads were too slick to get any real traction so no one was hurt. I went out the next day and looked at the havoc the snow had brought to us. I, of course, know how to drive in bad weather. By the time I got out on the roads the Southerners were all either wrecked or staying home. When I got back home my wife asked me why I went out.

“To show people how to drive in this stuff.” I went out to show off. I did a couple of great 360’s to impress the locals. They appreciated it by waving at me with a finger. I did a 180 to go back home. Scared the crap out of oncoming traffic. Don’t know why since they were only idling down the road. Sometime they were going straight and sometimes they weren’t. It was all the same to me since I expected no different.

A week later, with dry roads, people were still asking on Facebook if the roads were open. I’d always respond with “Not for you. Not for you.”


The Rob Saga The Rob Saga is available as an ebook and in paperback. It is available at Createspace and Amazon.


There are people living on the edge in what is called Appalachia. They're called ridgerunners, rednecks, hillbillies and backwoods mountaineers. No one thinks of them very often. They don't earn much to society's standards.They stay where they are because they love the area. They are hard workers when they have work and self-sufficient to an extent not known to "outsiders." They are also very funny; they have a great sense of humor about themselves.

They are the salt of the earth and the backbone of America. Their stories are America's stories. These are the stories Of Appalachia.

Book is available as an e-book or in Paperback.
See a preview.

Appalachia Again

More stories of the people of Appalachia.

More of Joe Bob, Bubba and Earl, Mosh Henry and all of the rest of the good folks in Wabash County.

Book is available as an e-book or in Paperback.

See a preview.

Funny Stories Don Roble
Funny Stories
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