It's just that you may miss a spot or two.
Firewood: check. Propane for backup: check. Electric heaters near vulnerable plumbing points: check. Neat piles of super-cold-emergency clothing and bedding: check.
Some other things too, because I'm not anxious for a Sam McGee outcome of this outbreak.
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...And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear, you'll let in the cold and storm —
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."*
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Not to over-dramatize, but people die when consecutive daytime highs peak at a windy 15 or 20 below. Poor planners suffer disproportionately to better ones, and I hope I'm in the latter group, especially since the Commandant's residence here at Camp Jiggleview is, at heart, a summer cabin. Years of rebuilding, insulating, window upgading and so forth have made her snug, but she doesn't often face a challenge like this.
'course, I could be missing an opportunity for another 15 minutes. Maybe I should just find a shelter, kick back, wait for the television truck to come around, and tell the camera that the government didn't even offer me no help no how.
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*Robert Service, of course. "The Cremation of Sam McGee."
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