Day 206. Mean Spirited

Remember how excited I was yesterday?  I could smell Spring in the air.  Do you also remember the last sentence I wrote?  No worries.  I’ll refresh your memory:  slush“Mother Nature can be a real bitch, you know.”

Well, she was certainly right on cue.  Went to bed Tuesday night listening to howling wind.  And I do mean howling.  But there’s more.  We also had a combination of swirling snow and rain.  Went on all night.  Was still going strong yesterday morning.  Now we’ve got piles and piles and piles of heavy, ugly, dirty, messy, disgusting slush!  Ponds at every street corner, too wide to jump across.  So guess what?

Yep.  No other choice but to wade through them.  Up to your insteps, if not higher.  Sidewalks are a royal mess.  Roads are a royal mess.  And God help us if it gets cold.  Because it will all freeze; and then driving and walking will be absolutely hazardous.

So yes, Mother Nature can be a real bitch.  She’s certainly proved it over the last two days.  Can’t you hear her cackling?  I can.  And, while I’m no shrink, I think she’s also unstable. Hormonal at best.  I wonder if she’s ever tried taking Evening Primrose Oil.  Might be a good idea.

Can you do me a favour?  If you’re talking to her, try suggesting it. Continue reading

Day 104. April Showers

… bring May flowers.  Or so it’s said.  I’ve been known to bitch and moan about rain, after about the third or fourth day in a row of getting soaked. Of having to make a run for it.  Of walking around with wet shoes, and wet feet. Which is why, as much as I love Vancouver, beautiful as it is, I think I’d have a hard time living there.  All that rain (and miserable, grey skies) can be very depressing.

But there are times I love the rain.

I had a friend, years ago, whose parents had a cottage up north, in the Laurentian Mountains (about an hour north of Montreal).  I loved their house, because it had a huge screened-in front porch.  It was the size of a living room; and, truth be told, everyone sat there, most of the time.  It had a bluish grey painted hardwood floor, and lots of over-sized, over-stuffed, mis-matched, comfy furniture.

My favourite was a big old iron-framed daybed that was pushed right up against one of the screened windows. Continue reading