You Betcha!
If there's something Canadians know how to do, it's how to complain about the weather. It's too cold, it's too hot, it's too windy, it's not. We hate freezing rain, and who wouldn't? We enjoy and appreciate winter snow, but it's a right royal pain in the arse when it forgets to stop and we become snowbound, traffic comes to a standstill and no one can make it home for dinner from the office.
We most especially hate unusual weather that slams through once in a too-often while, like an unforgettable ice storm that downs trees and electrical wires, plugs highways with smashed vehicles, makes our lives utterly miserable. Well, what can you expect? This is Canada, after all. A wide swath of geography second to one, encompassing varying climates and ecologies, replete with mountains at either end, prairies in between and embraced by three oceans. We are a geography and an weather-environment of deep contrasts.
How about that? British Columbia heavy with snow and cold, unusual for this time of year, when we haven't yet entered true Canadian winter. They're out there, shovelling themselves out of tunnels of snow, schools and universities closed temporarily, workers unable to make it to the office, public works tractoring the snow into large heavy piles freeing up the streets before more snow falls and plugs them up again.
Bet they don't see their municipal public works come breezing along every fall to install tall metal rods brightly painted onto fire hydrants? Ah, the better to see you with, dear hydrant, when the snowpack becomes so tall one cannot determine where those fire extinguishers happen to be. Bet every second household doesn't own at least several pairs of snowshoes, enough ice grippers to go around, and just incidentally cross-country skies.
Bet they don't have an assortment of snow and ice shovels, several for each of many different kinds of snow and ice conditions, ready at hand for immediate use without prior notice. Bet every third household there doesn't have a great hulking monster of a snow machine, commonly termed a snow thrower in the garage, gassed up and ready to be ear-splittingly unleashed soon as the current storm subsides.
Bet they don't have to wait a full month once winter has slunk out of view (only to return time and again, mindlessly, determinedly, maddeningly) before the sun gains sufficient heat, and day-time temperatures become sufficiently elevated to eventually melt all that mess and muck of snow layer upon snow layer interspersed with gravel, sand and salt over hidden lawns.
Bet they can't grow tulips like we can.
We most especially hate unusual weather that slams through once in a too-often while, like an unforgettable ice storm that downs trees and electrical wires, plugs highways with smashed vehicles, makes our lives utterly miserable. Well, what can you expect? This is Canada, after all. A wide swath of geography second to one, encompassing varying climates and ecologies, replete with mountains at either end, prairies in between and embraced by three oceans. We are a geography and an weather-environment of deep contrasts.
How about that? British Columbia heavy with snow and cold, unusual for this time of year, when we haven't yet entered true Canadian winter. They're out there, shovelling themselves out of tunnels of snow, schools and universities closed temporarily, workers unable to make it to the office, public works tractoring the snow into large heavy piles freeing up the streets before more snow falls and plugs them up again.
Bet they don't see their municipal public works come breezing along every fall to install tall metal rods brightly painted onto fire hydrants? Ah, the better to see you with, dear hydrant, when the snowpack becomes so tall one cannot determine where those fire extinguishers happen to be. Bet every second household doesn't own at least several pairs of snowshoes, enough ice grippers to go around, and just incidentally cross-country skies.
Bet they don't have an assortment of snow and ice shovels, several for each of many different kinds of snow and ice conditions, ready at hand for immediate use without prior notice. Bet every third household there doesn't have a great hulking monster of a snow machine, commonly termed a snow thrower in the garage, gassed up and ready to be ear-splittingly unleashed soon as the current storm subsides.
Bet they don't have to wait a full month once winter has slunk out of view (only to return time and again, mindlessly, determinedly, maddeningly) before the sun gains sufficient heat, and day-time temperatures become sufficiently elevated to eventually melt all that mess and muck of snow layer upon snow layer interspersed with gravel, sand and salt over hidden lawns.
Bet they can't grow tulips like we can.
posted by Pieface @ 5:01 PM
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