The snow that was predicted is falling in tiny, grainy flakes. As the old saw goes: "Little snow, big snow," meaning that this type of snow is the kind that means business and may accumulate. However, this is Delaware ...
In this part of the country (mid-Atlantic), any snow seems to trigger some sort of temporary insanity in people who are normally able to function in society. They rush to the grocery store for "French toast" (i.e., bread, milk, and eggs) and whatever else they might need if they're snowed in ... for a day.
And the drivers? Well, there seem to be three types. The first is your normal, drive-according-to-the-road-conditions driver. Next are the drivers who are so frightened that going faster than 25 on the interstate will make them break out in hives. Last are what I call the cowboys. These happy idiots like to go as fast as they can, braking only when necessary and in general making the rest of us hold our breath until they're long gone. I'm not exceptionally savvy when it comes to car mechanics, but I do believe that 4-wheel drive doesn't also mean 4-wheel brake.
Our house is at the T of an intersection, and where the cross-street intersects is a short but sharp rise. Every winter we get to hear the cowboys driving around the neighborhood with great abandon, only to be brought up short at our little hill. Wheels a'spinning, they try gunning their way out of trouble and, when that doesn't work, backing up and trying again and again.
I used to be a nice person and try helping these individuals. Since they are all young men, they don't exactly appreciate having a woman push their sorry butts out of the ruts they've dug for themselves. Now I just sit in the warmth of my living room, listening to the whine of their spinning tires, hoping like hell that they don't get too much traction. I'd really hate to have a cowboy and his vee-hickle end up on the couch next to me.