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Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Well, even as Ol’ Robbo types this post, Storm Stella (“STEEEELLAAAA!!!!”) is bearing down on Port Swiller Manor.

It’s the first opportunity folks around here have had to indulge in our traditional snowflake panic all year, and even yesterday when Robbo was at the store, the T-paper was already flying off the shelves.

Further, there’s a weird sense of entitlement brewing amongst the kids, who haven’t had a snow day yet this year. I’ve an idea the schools will be shut tomorrow no matter what the actual conditions, lest rioting breaks out.

As a matter of fact, we’re at the southern end of the storm track, and while points farther north are going to get hammered for certain, I reckon we’ll only get just enough to make my slog downtown in the morning very unpleasant.

Of course, I could be mistaken. Fortunately, our emergency contingent plan of burning the furniture and eating the cats is always ready to go at need.

We shall see.

UPDATE:  Whelp,  Ol’ Robbo was right:  the storm mostly turned out to be a bust.

But don’t let Drudge’s headline about a “dusting” in our area fool you.  Dustings are pretty and flakey and melt as soon as the sun appears.  I just got finished spending about three hours dealing with the two inches of very wet snow on top of ice that covered the Port Swiller driveway.  Broke my shovel on it, too.  Doesn’t sound like all that much, I know, but I’m aching quite all over now.

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