This is not the kind of blizzard where you get Oreos and Reese's Cups.

Right now it is a balmy -26 degrees wind chill here in Smalltown.  Fun times.

We've had several days of snow and strong winds.  The snow isn't deep but the temps are freezing.  If there was any doubt before, it is now completely clear to me that this Southern girl has Southern blood running through her veins. Arctic weather is not for me. Give me a 100 degree day with 95% humidity, some Skin So Soft for the gnats, and I'm good. (As long as I have some A/C and a big glass of sweet tea, or course.)

I haven't been out of the house since Tuesday.  OK, twice I stepped on the porch to look down the street at a neighborhood power outage. We had power throughout the night, but one section of our neighborhood was in the cold darkness for several hours.

But, other than stepping two feet onto the crunchy snow in my parka and snow boots, I've stayed inside.

I plan to do the same today because (1) The roads are looking less than reliable with the possibility of ice and (2) It's cold, people!

Just to emphasize how wimpy I am, let me tell you about Daughter's horseback riding instructor.  This lady has been outside in the weather chopping ice from water tanks, replenishing fresh hay, and checking on all of her horses.  As she put it, by the time she was bundled up, fifteen minutes had passed, she still hadn't left the house, and she looked like the Michelin man.  Or Michelin woman, as it were.

She is tough as nails.  A true pioneer woman.  She braved the weather in layers upon layers of fluffy down and fleece, battled icy shovels, and diligently worked with gloves which froze to the horses' gate latches. At the end of her rounds, she reported that all horses were fine, braving the elements as they were designed to, with tails to the wind. 

Which is exactly how I would be posed. Only I think I will keep mine inside.