-22C and balmy

It was a beautiful fall here and we love to talk and think about weather so here I am doing so with others that might not be as enthused.

In the winter of 1994/95 the ground was frozen solid on the October 15. I think this was the year we saw -50C which was new to me. Cars don't work so well then and make noises I can't even describe.

This year we were still in the arms of fall at the end of November and then, like a steel door slamming shut, the cold slid down from the north and reminded us all how it should on the prairie in winter.

For the better part of two weeks we've had night time lows dipping down into the low -30C range and if we were lucky the day time highs would climb to -27C and the wind chill factor often took those temperatures down to -45C.

Yesterday the wind was down to almost nothing and the temperature was up to -21C.

One of the greatest pleasures in life, for me at least, is when I've adapted to the cold and a -21C day can feel balmy and mild. By three o'clock yesterday afternoon I couldn't stay working for the call of the sunshine outside and took an hour to go for a run.

Now I'm thinking we should have a winter camp. It would be nice to have somewhere out of the wind to light a fire and maybe even sleep over in the dead of winter. A friend has a camp in the Canadian shield three hours east of Winnipeg back off the beaten track overlooking a remote lake. It takes him forty five minutes to walk in after a long drive. He's got a canvas tent with an asbestos ring for a chimney from a tin stove to exhaust with three logs stacked cabin style to secure a good seal on the tent.

It's all brilliant, but I'd prefer to ski or snowshoe in and avoid the driving all together. There is a perfect place over looking the river here, but how to find the time when one is already so ineffective with those management skills!

One step at a time... dreaming on.

ice, wind and snow

Lulled into a sense of safety and comfort through the warm half of the year I was only partially prepared to be slapped tonight.

I had headed out to help a friend get some kinks out of a new computer and I just casually grabbed my parka off the hook on my way out. No extra socks, no mitts, just a couple of neck tubes, toque, work gloves and a pull over. We had a great visit after the computer questions were quickly set right. I think it's interesting how many women seem to be interested in Linux. Anyway, that's another one safely up and running.

Sitting in the kitchen drinking some wild bit of roasted nut coffee I was increasingly distracted with what I thought was a mouse chewing at the base of her front door. When I got up to check, it wasn't a mouse at all. It was freezing rain pellets. My car was covered in a pebbled sheet of ice more akin to a curling rink surface than a windshield.

I was in such a rush to begin the crawl home that I left the jar of home made sauerkraut behind! Dang! Laura is a biologist. She is one of two curators of a tall grass prairie preserve close to us. I can always be sure to be fed something interesting when visiting Laura's kitchen.

On the way home I was reminded of all the reasons one must be awake to the hazards of rural life. The population is very sparse here and at ten o'clock on a weeknight when the weather is bad, people tend to stay home. It was a slow and very lonely drive home on a sheet of ice tonight. Summer is over, and the sharp consequences of winter are at hand.

I've been distracted by the news from the west coast and forgot to pay attention to our local conditions. Mum and Dad sent some short video clips from Qualicum that showed some nasty weather. I hope they have the fire on to stay warm. I have a number of acquaintances on the west coast, some of which have dropped out of sight today. I expect the power supply must be tenuous at best. Then tonight Laura mentioned that Nova Scotia was baking in warm summer weather. Ah the power of nature. It's oddly comforting to know we don't have last rock.