First, pitch a tent, assuming (quite correctly I might add) that you’ll lose power in the 75 miles per hour gusts and the living room and its gas fireplace will be the only warm place in the house.
Make sure there are plenty of sleeping bags, flashlights, and extra blankets.
Be thankful you didn’t take all those extra blankets to Goodwill as you wanted every single time you saw the box in the basement.
Find some puzzles.
And find your knitting. Hope the kids will actually give you some time to knit during the daylight hours. Hints for those who guessed incorrectly :: They didn’t.
Read books. Eat cookies.
Wear warm slippers and stay in your house coats all day (and maybe even at night!).
Take a nap.
Take LOTS of naps.
Eat some cake you pulled out of the oven one hour before the power went out.
Get outside in all your wind and water proof gear.
Drag yourself out to get some pictures, since it’s the first real snow you’ve seen all year. Great White North my a$$.
These hips don’t lie folks. That’s a drift that goes above my waist if I would’ve let myself sink all the way down.
Enjoy it while it’s there, because it won’t last long.
Enjoy taking off your boots and getting back into your warm cozy slippers sitting beside the fire.
Really enjoy having a mud room that can handle all you can give it.
Once the gales die down, watch the storm out at sea.
Watch your poor sea-bound lighthouse get battered.
Poor lighthouse. Poor seaside neighbors…
Play the game :: Will He Get Stuck or Won’t He? (Answer :: Only stuck for a half hour in our driveway, three hours in our neighbor’s.)
Enjoy your new perspective.
Marvel at the fact that you managed to finish your hat, despite the kids’ best efforts.
And then begin the arduous process of cleaning it all up, and hope like hell it’s done before the week is out. (Hint :: It isn’t)