Deep Freeze in the Deep South

I think we've been transported to an alternate reality. 

Unfortunately, this one didn't come with hover craft or self-starting cars that thaw ice from their entire chassis (although some people are fortunate enough to have remote start cars––boy, could I use one of those!!!!). Maybe that will come with time; but right now, we're all still grounded.

And we're all still scratching our heads at the weather.

Personally, I'm stumped.

Maybe it's because the little gray cells are still running circles trying to get warm, so they're too preoccupied to waste time figuring it out...but I'm having no luck even fathoming how this is possible.

Whatever happened to global warming?

I could use some of that right now.

I think the entire country would welcome it.

It would thaw us all out a bit.

Instead, I'm currently having to remind myself on an hourly basis that I live in Florida, and that no tectonic plates have shifted to break us up from the rest of the country to float us toward one of the polar ice caps.

On the contrary, we're still quite firmly attached in firmament, and the South has plunged into a deep freeze. 

And while the South may one day rise again, right now we're all keeping our heads down and shivering worse than a Yank in a room full of lickered-up Rebs. 

Our Rednecks have turned blue, even under layers of polar fleece.

Uggs are looking mighty un-ugly right now...

Fortunately, there is a bright side to this. 

It's just one that's still a few days out, according to our trusty (ha!) weathermen.

Bless their hearts.

Uh huh.

I think if they're wrong about their predictions of warmth, we're all going to band together for a lynching. 

But I digress...

Today is one of misery––a misery of epic proportions. So for posterity's sake, I'm going to describe just what I'm looking at out the picture window of my home away from home. There are icicles clinging stubbornly to anything even vaguely horizontal; and if it's solid, it's coated and crystalized. Roads are slicked over with ice, the sidewalks are puddled with slush, and a large part of the region is shut down and locked tight. Government offices are closed for business, banks are vaulted, and schools are silent. 

Welcome to Florida, pardon our ice.

It's Wednesday, hump day, and hopefully the description is fitting in this case, and it will all be downhill from here. 

Hopefully, we are at the peak of misery; and the thaw will, indeed begin.

Hopefully, the South––and our temps––will rise again.