The Old Postman’s Home

We had a good December.

We had a good January.

We have had one of the coldest Februarys on record. In 1936 we had a colder February, but people were tougher then. Now we are used to central heating, heated car seats and steering wheels, electrically heated socks and underwear and of course hand warmers that can be charged via the USB port on a laptop. Still, I prefer to look out my thermally insulated windows while cupping a hot drink between my two hands. Strangely enough, while I would be in shorts and flip flops in the summer when it is 21°C, during the winter if it is 21°C in the house I dress in layers and can’t find a blanket that covers and warms me at the same time.

I keep telling myself that it will warm up…it will warm up…it will warm up…

Tonight it is -25°C and feels like -40°C with the wind chill. Why did my ancestors choose to live in Canada? I suspect that they were tossed out of the good countries and ended up here. Their first winter must have been a rude awakening. You think that you know what cold is until you experience real cold.

Yes, yes I know that you can dress for the cold and there is a small amount of pride that we can not only function in these bitter temperatures but thrive. I was watching the luge races on TV last weekend which happened to be taking place in Calgary. The announcers were talking about how brittle the ice was and how the racers are not used to these extreme cold conditions. It made me chuckle because I was thinking that at -17°C with the sun shinning Spring couldn’t be that far away.

Granted the racers were wearing skin tight spandex and travelling at close to 200 KPH which would put the wind chill at close to REALLY FUCKING COLD! They are made of tougher stuff than I am and I suppose that they would have been the same kind of people that immigrated to Canada with dreams of a better life. These crazy mofos train for years racing head first down a track with only a very small chance of becoming the best in their field. Crazy!

Well, March has come in like a lion and I hope that the weather will moderate to seasonal norms in the weeks to come and go out like a lamb. At the very least when I am wrapped in a blanket in the Old Postman’s Home I will be able to bore anyone who will listen that I survived that frigid February back in 2019.

https://youtu.be/wkDvqQKGgDA