Every time the forecast whispers snow, Virginia loses its mind.

Milk disappears first.
Bread follows.
Eggs become currency.
And suddenly people who haven’t cooked since 2014 are preparing for Snowmageddon: The Reckoning.

This morning, listening to the low-grade panic hum through social media, I thought of my grandma.

Her checklist never changed.

Flour.
Butter.
Sugar.
Coffee.
Milk.
Eggs.
Salt.
Tea bags.
Bacon.

That was it.

No emergency rations.
No twelve-step preparedness plan.
No frantic news watching.

Just quiet confidence.

Flour meant I can make something.
Butter and sugar meant comfort is still allowed.
Coffee meant sit down, we’re talking.
Milk meant somebody might need care.
Eggs meant breakfast feeds more than hunger.
Salt meant wisdom — because everything needs seasoning.
Tea bags meant there’s time to slow down.
And bacon?
Bacon meant joy is practical.

Grandma didn’t fear snow.
She respected it.
And if it wasn’t the first snow, she’d be outside making snow cream like it was just another blessing falling from the sky.

She lived what Scripture later put into words:
“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” (Proverbs 31:25)

She knew storms came — and went.
She knew how to stretch what she had.
She knew a warm kitchen calmed cold nerves better than any headline ever could.

What strikes me most now is this:
Her list wasn’t about survival.
It was about presence.

Enough on hand to feed whoever showed up.
Enough calm to keep the house steady.
Enough wisdom not to confuse inconvenience with catastrophe.

We live in a time where every storm is framed like the end of the world.
But some of us were raised by women who understood that preparation doesn’t require panic — and peace doesn’t require abundance.

So if snow comes this week, let it snow.
Well… I’m no snow lover — even if I was born in January — but I trust the kind of wisdom that keeps coffee brewing, tea steeping, and bacon sizzling.

I’ll be thinking about grandma.
Her list.
Her calm.
And the quiet strength of knowing that love, when prepared, is never caught off guard.

Love, Chelle