Snow, Snow Is Coming and Ice, Ice Baby (Ah, Not ICE but Ice)!

Anne Childress
Jan 21
2 min read

(Source: Magnolia Dynamic Solutions, Corinth, MS last year)

The second the meteorologist on Channel 6 starts pointing at those jagged blue lines over the Gulf, my internal "Dixie Preparedness" alarm starts screaming. But let’s be real. My kids are grown and gone, so I’m no longer worried about entertaining bored toddlers or making sure there are enough chicken nuggets to survive a forty-eight-hour freeze. No, my concerns have shifted to the much more terrifying reality of middle-aged survival in a house that was built for ninety-degree humidity, not a scene from Doctor Zhivago.

The title of my current prayer journal is officially "Please God Don't Let Our Heat Go Out." Because if the power grid even thinks about flickering, I am one cold draft away from turning into a human popsicle. I’m currently looking at my thermostat with the kind of intense, romantic longing usually reserved for a young Dostoevsky hero staring at a lost love. I’ve already scouted the house for every fleece blanket we own, and I’m prepared to build a nest in the living room that would make a mama bear look disorganized.

In Dixie, we don't just "get a little ice." We get a glazed coating that turns every driveway into a high-stakes skating rink and every pine tree into a ticking time bomb. I watched my neighbor today trying to wrap his outdoor pipes with what looked like a roll of duct tape and a prayer. I wanted to tell him it wouldn't help, but I was too busy hauling my own weight in firewood into the garage. I haven’t swung an axe in years, but tell a Southern woman there’s an ice storm coming and suddenly she’s Paul Bunyan in a cardigan.

And then there is the grocery store. Bless our hearts. I walked into Kroger and it was like a scene from an action movie. There was a woman in the produce aisle clutching a head of lettuce like it was the Hope Diamond. I didn't even go for the bread this time. I went straight for the "Adult Snow Survival Kit" which consists of coffee, chocolate, and enough red wine to keep my blood thin and my spirits high. If the ice hits and the lights go, I might be freezing, but I’ll be the happiest woman in the dark.

The Snow Storm of January 2026 is officially on its way to Dixie, and we are reacting with our usual level of calm, rational behavior—which is to say, we are losing our collective minds.

I’ve got my heavy socks on, my pantry is stocked with things I’ll never eat once the sun comes out, and I am prepared to defend my space heater with my life. If you see me wandering the neighborhood tomorrow in three coats and a pair of gardening clogs, just wave.