Was it safe to eat that snow cream and follow AI trends?

I officially gave in the AI/ Facebook Bandwagon and started making cartoon memes. {Antionette Kerr}

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When you’re stuck in the house long enough, your brain starts making suggestions it normally wouldn’t. Rearranging furniture you already rearranged yesterday. Having full conversations with your pets.. And, apparently, asking yourself: Is it safe to eat snow cream?

Before we go any further, yes—I think it can be, if you’re selective and not reckless. Fresh snow. Not the first snowfall. Scooped from the top layer like you’re harvesting something sacred. Far away from roads, cars, roofs, and anything that’s ever leaked oil, antifreeze, or questionable life choices. If it’s yellow, don’t even finish the thought. Some risks don’t deserve a debate or a Facebook comment section.

But let’s be honest: this isn’t really about snow cream. This is about being snowed in with nothing left to do.

We’ve already made the cartoon memes. We’ve gone through our new books and binge-watched the new season of Bridgerton. We’ve already checked on neighbors. We’ve already very intentionally avoided national politics for the sake of our collective mental health. At some point, your mind just wanders into the kitchen and starts opening cabinets like, What kind of chaos can we create with what’s left?

That’s how it started—experimenting with extracts we had lying around. Vanilla, of course. Almond. Coconut. And suddenly, the whole thing shifted. Coconut snow cream doesn’t taste like winter. It tastes like denial. Like if you close your eyes hard enough, you can convince yourself it’s basically a piña colada—at least in your mind—while the snow keeps falling outside.

Add a little shredded coconut if you’re feeling bold, and now you’re emotionally on a beach, even though physically you’re still in sweatpants staring out a frosted window. The body is home, but the spirit has wandered somewhere tropical.

Then there was the mystery extract. Unlabeled. Bought sometime during a phase. Could be peppermint. Could be regret. We considered it. We showed restraint. Growth.

Snow cream is one of those foods that feels half nostalgic, half reckless. It’s a reminder of childhood winters, when snow days felt like a gift instead of an inconvenience. When the biggest concern was whether your mom would let you add extra sugar—not whether airborne pollutants had joined the party uninvited.

And yet, there’s something comforting about it. A simple ritual. A way to mark time when the day feels endless and the outside world is frozen solid. It gives your hands something to do and your mind something to focus on other than headlines and doom-scrolling.

Could you make it with crushed ice instead? Sure. Is that technically safer? Probably. But that’s not really the point. The point is that when the world slows down—whether by snowstorm or burnout—we look for small, mostly harmless joys. Even if those joys involve coconut-flavored snow and pretending, just for a moment, that you’re sipping a piña colada instead of watching snow pile up.

Here at Davidson Local, we’re looking forward to getting back to government meetings, council chambers, and community events. We miss being out in the middle of things—asking questions, taking notes, and telling the stories that matter.

But for now, you’ll have to deal with reading about special people, small moments, and yes—snow cream. Because even when the weather shuts things down, life doesn’t stop. It just slows long enough for us to notice the little things.

We’ll be back to normal soon enough.