Jars and jars of peanut butter, white bread and sugary sodas were still on the shelves in grocery stores. Hercules the first super storm of 2014 was just dropping the first inch or so of the foot or more which it could leave on the New Haven, Connecticut Metro area.
Nowhere on the shelves or in the refrigerated areas was the healthy fare. There are lots of ways to define "healthy." My way is "low fat" as the number-one requirement. The next must is low in calories.
I found no fresh fish and fresh chicken. Because of the relatively high fat content, the doctor and I had ruled out beef two years ago. If there was beef around, that didn't help me out. The wheat and oatmeal 70-calories-a-slice bread had vanished. Not even a smashed-up loaf left. Those pretty bottles of imported mineral water had also been disappeared.
Among the slim pickings I scooped up packets of tuna in water and frozen chicken. No, I didn't cave to white bread. And the dog and I would have to do with tap water until the plows come, if there really is a blizzard.
Will I be among the smart people next storm and stock up early? No. I have a deep distrust of weather forecasts.
That dates back to the days before I joined 12-step programs. The blizzard beyond all blizzards was predicted for central Pennsylvania. I and my buddies settled in with our whiskey, wine and beer. The weather event never happened. We had to go to work. That hastened entering "the rooms," as they say in 12-step programs. Never, though, had I ever again planned my life around weather forecasts.