Something weather-related

 "We had the worst weather today!" I tell this to my sister as we greet each other on the virtual call that makes 800+km of distance shrink down to mere milliseconds in cyberspace.

"Let me guess," she says, "Three inches of ice and you can't get into your car?"

"YES!  And there was a THUNDERSTORM AT THE SAME TIME!!!!"

"........ wow."

I'm glad I don't have to drive anywhere this morning...

I feel like by posting this picture I'm inviting other Canadians to join me in a weather measuring contest of "my weather is worse than yours!" Take exhibit A, sent to me by a friend this morning:

She told me she couldn't get out of the driveway this morning.

Or exhibit B, taken from my Facebook feed:

Years ago, when I was travelling across the Canada I remember overhearing someone comment that "Canadians sure like to talk about the weather."   

 "....Yeah, because we have a lot of it!" Was the reply.  

I also once heard a statistic that Canada has more weather channels than pretty much any other country on earth.  Indeed, the first lesson for small talk 101 in Canada is "If you have nothing else to talk about then talk about the weather!"

So all that said, I don't know if this blog entry has anything significant to say other than to talk about the weather.  Like, last year we got a crazy windstorm in Ottawa that knocked power out at my home for a week. The local trails were untraversable for the rest of the summer due to the number of knocked down trees blocking the paths.

I exaggerate not.  This is a tame example.  I didn't even capture a photo of the tree that fell on a house down the street.

I wasn't even surprised this morning when I arrived at the local coffee shop to receive the inquiry from the owner that she has repeated to every person who has come in since, "Do you have power?"  The truth is that we lost power at our house only for 10 minutes last night at 8:30pm, but apparently the people down the street have lost power overnight and still have no power this morning.  Somehow, after last year's experience of losing power for a week, I fail to be shocked.

I guess the small silver lining that may go unappreciated amidst our crazy Canadian weather is that it gives us something in common, almost akin to a national identity.  It is something we can talk about, something that unites us in experience, and builds the sense of community, of fighting against a common foe.  With all the war and political drama around us, I'd definitely prefer if weather was the only source of conflict, instead of each other.

Something about a tuque

Before I left home to study French in Quebec I had spend a lot of effort getting ready to prepare for the Québécois winter I had heard about in legend: 

• I had invested in a quality pair of winter boots that had extra insulation, super treads, and came in an incredible trendy combination of brown leather and teal. 
• I had dug out my Walmart special down-filled white winter jacket that was now a little off white and losing a few feathers, but still warm. 
• I was wearing my hand-crocheted blue winter scarf that is still a little singed from that time I wore it while cooking (don't ask). 
• I also had my awesome blue gloves on that let me type on my touch-screen while wearing them - you have no idea how amazingly useful this is!!! 

Yes, I was well equipped except for one thing: the night before I had left home I had somehow managed to misplace my favourite white, slightly stained and strangely large, winter tuque*.  I had torn my room apart but for some inexplicable reason it had disappeared!  I even bemoaned the fact to my mother in a whimpery voice, doing my best impression of a whiney child, "Moooommy, I can't find my tuuuque...."  As the day of my departure was literally one sleep away, I had to resort to packing what I considered to be my second-best winter apparel.

Bienvenue à Québéc! Il fait froid ici!

And so the first day of school in Quebec dawned, bright and clear with a forecasted temperature of -12**, feeling like -27 with its 40km/h humid wind that strips the warmth from your soul and leaves you feeling like your face had just been dipped in liquid nitrogen.  I donned tuque backup #1 for my 20 minute walk to school: a green knit beanie that likes to contract until it completely slides off my head.  The walk to school thus consisted of me walking with my hand up above my shoulders, tugging my beanie back down like it was a bra-strap that wouldn't stay up.  To be honest, I would have just taken the beanie off, except for the fact that I was pretty sure that if I didn't wear something on my head I would probably lose my ears to frostbite.

Frustrated with day one's experience I decided to try something different for day two: a pair of black sparkly earmuffs that would have no problem covering that particularly vulnerable area of my anatomy.  Ears fully protected, I ventured out into the cold only to be confronted with a completely new adversity; not even halfway to the school I began to get a temperature-inflicted headache. That's right, without the proper covering for my forehead I was getting brain-freeze!!!  Previously I had thought that brain-freeze was an affliction for those who liked to pig out on ice cream or drink their Slurpee's at record-breaking speeds. Now I know the truth: brain-freeze can also be mother nature's way of mocking you for wearing fuzzy earmuffs and not a more practical head-covering.  I went home that evening knowing that I would have to come up with a new solution or cave and buy a new tuque.

But I am stubborn.

And lucky.

That night, after I met my real host family and started unpacking my belongings into my new room I pulled a box of feminine products out of my suitcase that was bulging strangely.  I was instantly excited, because I suddenly remembered what had happened!!!  The day before I left to go to Quebec I had been packing my suitcase and thought that I might not have enough room in my suitcase for everything.  So, in an effort to save space, I had shoved my white tuque into the little bit of empty space that existed in my box of pads.  In hindsight I acknowledge that it was a really strange place for a tuque.  It was so strange that afterwards I never thought about looking back in there for the tuque.  Yes, I might be just a little dense...and strange.  But I was really happy!  So happy, in fact, that I found my tuque that I started to do a little happy dance in my room because I knew that on day three I would have a proper tuque!  On day three my head wouldn't freeze! On day three I could instead happily take this picture:

From Facebook:
"Il y a -17 degrés ici, mais je trouve ma tuque blanche donc maintenant je fait chaud!"

NOTES:
*Fun language fact: "La tuque" is a French word that refers to a winter hat that covers the entire head and ears, like a proper winter hat should.
**For any Americans: all temperatures posted in this post are in Celsius.  Please use Google's temperature conversion feature if you want to know how ridiculously cold it was in Fahrenheit.

Something full of holiday cheer

"I wanted to put up a Christmas tree for my birthday", my friend tells me as I visited her in Calgary at the end of November, "but some of my friends have a problem with Christmas trees."

"How can someone have a problem with Christmas trees?" I ask incredulously. "It's a tree with balls.  Lots and lots of balls!"

She takes one look at me and bursts out laughing.  "Oh, I missed you."


Runaway ball!!!

When I was a kid I remember being absolutely mesmerized by the concept of a Christmas tree.  After the tree was dressed I would sit at the base of the tree as the northern sky dimmed at its ridiculously early hour to complete blackness, allowing the multi-coloured illumination of the tree to become a spectacle that would enthrall me for hours on end as I stared up at it in wonder.  In those moments there was no need for thought or agenda; there was only a need for a deep sense of gratitude and joy.  My hyperactive imagination would pause as it stopped to consider the simple and majestic beauty the Christmas tree in front of me represented.  Needless to say, the Christmas tree has always been one of my favourite parts of Christmas.

Four years ago in December my dad died rather suddenly in a car accident. That year there was not much energy to celebrate Christmas, and so the Christmas tree did not go up.  The following year the tree went up only out of duress since we were hosting the family Christmas, but it was a half-hearted effort, going up at the last moment and not staying up past Boxing Day*.  Last year, our version of a Christmas tree was my mom's fake potted plant with multi-coloured lights on it, which we hadn't bothered taking off from the year before.  Maybe that passes for a Christmas tree in some households, but for my family the display was a lack of Christmas spirit at its finest.

Tree-dressing!

Which is why you should be able to understanding my surprise this year at the beginning November, when in mid-conversation my mother suddenly looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous grin on her face and announced, "I feel like putting up the Christmas tree!!!"

I laughed and brushed it off, as I headed out the door to play board games at a friend's house.  After all, it was the beginning of November - and who puts up a Christmas tree at the beginning of November?

Well, apparently my family does, because when I got home I was shocked to discover a Christmas tree that I did not recognize standing proudly in the centre of the living room, completely decorated.  While I had been gone for the past 4 hours my mother had gone to Canadian Tire, bought a Christmas tree with my brother, brought it home, had my brother help her set it up in the middle of the living room and then decorated it and went to bed.

The funnier thing though is that this isn't the end of the story.  Dissatisfied with her choice of baubles, balls and lack of ribbon, on November 11th while we were exiled from the home to provide her housekeeper some personal space, we proceeded to travel across half of the West Kootenays in search of new ornaments to dress the tree with.  Then, after we got home, we promptly un-decorate the already-decorated tree in order to re-decorate it with the new decorations.  By the way, that was a completely decorous sentence. ~grins at bad pun~ 

Finished product! ~"Oh Christmas Tree"~

 

So suffice to say my family is in fine Christmas spirit this year.  The tree is up and it is beautiful and mesmerizing.  It has lights that can alternate between pristine white, and psychedelic multi-colour with patterns.  There are lots of balls on it.  The cat has already pulled the ribbon off of it at least once.  Yes, the tree this year is pretty much perfect in every way.  Merry Christmas everybody!

*Boxing day: December 26th, the Canadian equivalent of Black Friday - shopping day extraordinaire that was originally intended to be the day when people would "box up" the tree.