Photo by David Grunfeld, Times-Picayune

I owe the fine people of Mississippi an apology.

Our first winter of 2015-2016 here was a piece of cake.  We started a fire in the woodstove once or twice.  Folks said it was a mild winter. I said yeah, okay, right, and rolled my eyes.  Our second winter was similar.

Early this past December, the temperatures dipped below freezing on consecutive days.  We had snow here.  Like, real snow that fell from the sky and coated the ground.  I couldn’t believe it.  I had already gotten rid of my flannel sheets.  This was not what I moved down here for.

And then it wasn’t just snow, but sleet.  That dreaded euphemism, a “wintery mix.”  Driving in snow is one thing.  Driving in sleet and slop is something else.  I didn’t enjoy it in NY, and I certainly didn’t enjoy it here,  mainly because they don’t know how to drive in it down here.  And the good folks of Mississippi are the first ones to say they don’t know how to drive in it down here.

Not wanting to miss a date with a massage therapist in Slidell on the day of the snow, I stubbornly drove Big Blue down the interstate.  It was a mess.  There are no snowplows or salt/sand trucks here, no way to improve the conditions.  They just don’t have that kind of equipment because, as a rule, they don’t need it.  On this particular day, the temperature barely rose above freezing, making for a sloppy, long standing mess.

I drove a conservative 45 mph, leaving lots of room between myself and the vehicle in front of me.

People flew past me doing 70.  Ultimately, these same people ended up shooting off the road not far ahead of me, embedding themselves in the tree-lined median or rolling over in the right shoulder.  It was like a bad game of Mario Kart.  (“Whee-HEEEEEEEE……!”)

In Slidell, every intersection had police directing traffic around another fender bender.

The worst part was, I felt like I no longer had a command of bad weather driving skills, like I had from a lifetime in NY.  (Not that I was great, but I held my own – I did slide off Charley Hill Road one time, but that’s another story.)  A couple of years in the bona fide South and not only had my blood thinned in a hurry, but I lost the muscle memory of how to navigate a vehicle in crappy conditions.  Thankfully, like riding a bicycle, I quickly got the knack back.  But I didn’t enjoy it in the least.

Photo by David Grunfeld, Times-Picayune

In January, we had another bout of freezing temperatures that lasted a week, accompanied this time by light snow and a good dose of freezing rain, that went all the way down to New Orleans.  The State of Louisiana and most of Mississippi was basically shut down for two days.  Our office closed; I stayed home and kept the wood stove going and brought buckets of hot water out to the donkeys’ tub. (I sold my stock tank float before moving, stupidly thinking that I would never need it again. I was grateful I didn’t get rid of my Carhartts.)

The bright side of all this was the huge population of Southern kids seeing their first snow – ever.  I saw kids making snowmen and pelting each other with snowballs, ruddy faces lit up like Christmas trees.  And it made for a pretty landscape.  I hadn’t forgotten what it looked like, but it was nice to be reminded.

Despite Facebook memes to the contrary, folks down here aren’t wimpy when it comes to snow and ice.  The vast majority simply know their limitations and choose not to deal with it.  Which is wise.  After all, it’ll be in the 90’s in another few weeks.