Weather Is Unpredictable

Sunday afternoon, brilliant red cardinals dot the gray, bare branches of the big oak tree out front as we hear dire warnings of incoming snow and ice.

Neighbors are making their last ditch effort to secure milk and bread, apparently there is some law.

By now the bread shelves at the groceries look as though a swarm of bread-eating locusts have come and gone and left one mashed loaf.
Someone will buy it fearing they might meet the same fate as the Donner Pass party without it.

The milk coolers are slim pickings, literally, unless you like 1% skim.

Yes, the pretty TV weather guys and girls are warning us of “4 to 6 inches of snow topped with an inch of ice.”
The ones in the know tell us “stay off the roads unless it is absolutely an emergency.” And herein lies the problem.
The very ones who are supposed to scatter gravel and salt on bridges and overpasses, stay home, too.

Weather is still unpredictable, one of life’s great mysteries. Another mystery is what recipe calls for milk and bread besides bread pudding?