A Southern Girl’s Guide to Storm Prep (Step One: Buy Spam)

You may already know that I suffer from ornithophobia: the fear of birds. It’s not just that I do not particularly care for our fine feathered friends, it is more that when I see a winged creature, I automatically assume it intends to peck out my eyes and consume me as prey. In addition to not being a card carrying member of the Audubon Society, there is another phenomenon that also strikes fear deep in my heart: the threat of a power outage.

When I win the lottery, there will certainly be signs. And the first of those is that I will install a generator as soon as my almighty ship comes in. Never again will the electricity flickering induce heart palpitations, and if it does, my generator will provide the exact amount of joules needed for a top-of-the-line defibrillator. Which brings me to last weekend’s predicted ice storm and the warning of widespread power outages in not just my immediate area, but in the entire Southeast. Gulp.

I simply cannot tolerate birds, bad hair days, or being off the grid, so when the weatherman said “ice,” I did what any reasonable Southern woman would do—bought enough bottled water to hydrate a football team, filled my bathtub like we were getting ready for a church tent revival night of baptisms, and cleared the stores of “nonperishable” food items like it was the new currency.

I panic, therefore I prep.

Now, I was certainly not the only one who was doing their fare share of doomsday, er, storm prepping in my area. The usual suspects like bread, eggs, and milk always sell out (and they did), but I could not help but notice that we all throw out our dietary restrictions in the face of a storm. Suddenly no one cares if it’s gluten free, dairy free, free range, organic, grass fed, all-natural. We scamper for the Chex Mix and the Chef Boyardee, the chemically enhanced, shelf stable comfort food that will outlast a nuclear attack. I didn’t notice the produce section being particularly decimated, but Vienna sausages, deviled ham, and yes: Spam? Empty shelves!

I personally had not enjoyed any Spam since my childhood, and I was shocked to discover not only is it still very much in existence, apparently it has become so popular, it is now available in quite an array of flavors (depending of course on storm demand) from maple to jalapeno to Korean barbecue. Whatever catastrophe you need soothed, Spam has a flavor for the occasion. I limited my consumption to two cans of classic (an attempt to be a good neighbor and not hoard resources), and stocked up on the other important essentials like kettle chips, peanut butter, beef jerky, and cookies. Storm snack or survival snacks? Yes.

I charged every device we own, bought an extra portable power pack just for myself to hoard, began following my local meteorologist on Facebook for updates on the impending storm, bookmarked a “recipe” for homemade, pet-friendly ice melt—I was one candle away from churning my own butter. Every time more sleet or freezing rain tick, tick, ticked to the ground outside, I found myself singing a winter ballad version of the old Johnny Paycheck song, straight to the heavens, asking the good Lord not to take my power away: Well, I say friend, Don’t take her, She’s all I’ve got….Please don’t take her love away from me.”

What can I say? Some people light candles and relax. I prepare like Little House on the Prairie with the benefit of Wi-Fi (please Lord, don’t take our Wi-Fi).

We were incredibly lucky that Charlotte got more sleet than freezing rain, and the storm was much milder than it could have been. The storm of the century turned out to be much ado about nothing, as most winter weather in the South thankfully tends to be. For a woman who panic buys in her pearls, I can honestly say I don’t know how folks in colder parts of the world do it. I could not live a life of canned goods and catastrophe, of prayer and potted meat.

But before I let Clint fry up the last of the Spam and I unclench and relax: the extended forecast shows possibly more snow on the way this weekend. Lucky for us, I still have plenty of supplies on hand and I have done my research on how to convert a muffin tin and tea lights into a stovetop or use a ceramic crockpot liner and bricks to create a mini indoor heater.

If the grid goes down, I’m ready. Mentally stable? No. But prepared? Extremely.