Here at the Mansion, we're battening down the hatches for tonight's storm. My T-Hoe is in 4WD mode in the garage. The chickens have gorged on all the stale bread that's been laying on the kitchen counter for two weeks, shockingly enough not depleted by Farmer H feeding on it like it's normal bread, because he's too lazy to reach above it and open the bread pantry. Farmer H is off at the auction, perhaps at this very moment buying Auction Meat to fill our storm larder. Gas is stockpiled for the generator. Yes. We're ready.
The Pony is hoping for a day off from school on Monday. I guess 18 is not enough. I wouldn't mind another day of leisure myself. Though it would most likely be filled with filling out tax forms.
My mom is apprehensive. She says, "I hate to do this to southeast Missouri, but I hope all of this freezing rain hits Cape instead of us." She plans on riding out the siege in her new recliner, eating leftover Chinese, and possibly a meat loaf.
We are prepared.