In Edmonton, we say there comes a point when you can't tell the difference between -20C and -30C. This is a lot of bravado, but not actually bullshit. You really can't tell the difference mostly because you've lost all feeling in your cheeks and ears and toes and fingers. Your nose feels kind of weird as you breathe through it and if you opt to breathe through your mouth instead you create a puddle in the scarf your grandma knit for Christmas.
(My granny knit the best winter scarf ever this year. It's so warm I have to take it off as soon as I get inside a building in order to avoid sweating. This is a compliment, believe me. I love it.)
Anyway, not to harp too much on the weather, but where you really feel the temperature change is between, say -5C and -20C. It's that big drop, often overnight, that gets you. Suddenly your pants feel cold when they brush against your leg as you walk. And everyone starts coming up with ways to go places without going anywhere -- for example, walking all the way through Scotia Place to get to the Sutton Hotel.
I'll stop boring you with weather talk now. (Silly Canadians, we love dissecting our levels of cold so much.)
I'm off to Jasper for the weekend -- eeeh! So stay tuned for posts on:
1. Why Carol Shields is awesome. (So far.)
2. How Londoners look cooler than us always, even in the rain. Bastards.
3. How my dear friend Sour the Anti-Resolution managed to get through a Trish-Free Weekend. Sour the Anti-Resolution does not read this blog.... or does he?
P.S. Your homework while I'm gone? Well, if you are not in the middle of a great Russian novel -- it is winter, after all -- I suggest How To Make An American Quilt.
Sometimes, Constance Saunders thinks, the worst thing about being a woman is having women friends. And the worst part about having women friends is that one must share so many confidences, except the one confidence Constance longs to share, which is the one about not being wild over the idea of women friends. (p. 97)
It will warm your toes.