Snowed in at Santa's Lodge

I thought the snow was preventing me from getting home. Instead, it brought me straight to it.
I never count on the weather report to be accurate, but when they predicted something between a dusting and a half inch, I thought I could make it the rest of my way home. I thought wrong. My car is barely making it on the flat terrain, and I’m about to head into mountain country when I see an old sign for Santa’s Lodge. It’s time to say uncle and hunker down for the rest of the storm.

Only, when I pull up to the inn, it looks like someplace time has forgotten. If not for the man carrying an armload of firewood, I’d have thought the place vacant. I grab my bag, expecting to pay a huge amount for a last-minute booking only to walk in and discover the entire building is under renovations with one exception: the owner’s residence.
He offers to let me ride out the storm there, but I politely decline. As I’m about to leave, the emergency sirens on our phones go off. All roads have been closed until further notice. Looks like I’m taking him up on it after all.