C'est froid, la, c'est froid. (updated with post script)

Seems like nobody's posting much these days. But we're still here! Including me.

Here, it's cold. Temperatures in the -20/-28C range, but the wind chill puts the actual feeling in the -30s. That's in the south of NB. Up north today in Edmundston, the actual temperature was -34C, not counting wind chill. At those kind of temperatures, this happens.

So, yeah, it's cold. Not -40C, which is extremely cold in most of Canada. (That's the point at which the Celsius and Fahrenheit scales meet up - -40C = -40F.) But cold enough that we're pretty miserable and just trying to keep our kids warm and ourselves warm and our cars and our water running, and make it in to work and make it home again.

Here's the conundrum: In Canada, in winter, it's either really really cold, in which case you are really really cold; or it is just normal-cold. Like, -10C. And when it's normal cold, it snows. A lot. So there's no winning, really.

I'm probably rambling at this point.

Punch-drunk and exhausted from cold.

Oh - Mojo? Thanks for asking. Better than ever. As happy and active as he's ever been in his life. The cold doesn't bother him much. The house is warm and cozy and he spends his days, while we're at work, rotating between his favourite spots: his little cat bed; on the red blankie on the Big Bed; and on his little plaid blankie on the sofa. I saw this on I Can Has Cheezburger today -



- and I swearz it's true.

Edited to add: His favourite spots when we are home is on his Dad's lap, or on my lap. So, a wide variety of options for one small indoor black and white cat.

ronnie

PS: I should note, for the record, that the morning after I wrote this blog post I woke up to an absolutely dead car and came home from work to find the kitchen pipes frozen and no water. Winter doesn't take kindly to published criticism it would seem!

Quite a day. [UPDATED]

The weather here is shite today, cold and pouring, and I conducted a focus group which did not go at all well, which made it all the more apropos that an eye examination revealed that I have a posterior subcapsular cataract in my bad eye and will need surgery (while I'm awake, for chrissakes) to remove it, and Mojo, who we took to the vet last week because he was out of sorts, is probably in the early stages of chronic renal failure.

About the former, I have an appointment with a noted local (and heavily booked) ophthalmologist in July; about the latter, there is much we can do to try to ameliorate the symptoms, the most concerning of which right now is that he's not very interested in food. He'll be switching immediately to an all-wet-food diet, which will delight him no end. The vet is monitoring the situation closely with us; and thank god for the internet and the innate generosity of people, because there are many websites out there with masses of information from people who have cared for cats with this condition. (I read today of a cat who lived for 12 years after diagnosis.)

So nobody's panicking here yet. Blogging may continue to be a little spotty as we deal with these and other real-life things.

But as days that suck go, I'm just sayin', this one was 24-karat.

UPDATE: Mojo has started eating again and is currently acting like himself - in other words, cheerful, active and full of piss and vinegar. We are monitoring him closely. We have supplies on hand (special food and a feeding syringe) in case he has another bad spell with no appetite (a common and problematic symptom of CRF that can result in a dangerous "downward spiral") but for the time being he is eating, drinking and doing the (ahem) natural things that happen as a result of that. This is an unpredictable disease - he could have weeks, months or years left. All we can do now is watch him closely and play it by ear. Thanks for the good wishes sent his way.

ronnie

Beaten, and somewhat bowed.

Sorry for not posting lately. It has been a very hard couple of months.

Of course there was losing Veronica, which affected both of us in ways we didn't expect and which still leaves a constant sadness in our hearts which flares up into surprising pain unexpectedly now and then.

Workloads have been heavier than usual for both of us. And both of our workplaces are undergoing change and upheaval in different ways, which is also stressful.

But there's no doubt that one of the things that is depressing not just me but many of our coworkers and neighbours is the weather. We have been snowed on, and snowed on, and snowed on. Snowstorm follows snowstorm follows snowstorm. Roofs are collapsing. Snowbanks are spilling into the streets and sidewalks are icy messes; even after being plowed they're near-impossible to navigate. Wheelchair, walker and crutch users are writing plaintive letters to the editor begging the city to fix this, as they're practically housebound. Streets are constantly slippery and every driving errand is a risk.

On Thursday we came home from work and raked a ridiculous amount of snow from the roofs of our front and back porches, to prepare them for the 30 cm more we got on Friday afternoon and overnight. Then we shoveled the snow we had raked off the roof out of the driveway. We had almost no place to put it. The snowbank in front of the house is at least 2 metres tall now. The back yard is full. And we're getting 10 more cms on Monday.

We're Canadians. Winter practically defines us. But nobody can remember a winter as bad, and it's relentless and destructive and causing nothing but stress and headaches and damage and money worries. It takes all your energy to get up, deal with the latest mess, navigate your way to work, come home and wait for the next mess. It's spirit-crushing.

The only thing that keeps you going is knowing that it will end. (And, in our lucky case, that we will escape it for a little while soon.) But in the meantime, it's just rough times for all of us. And not a lot of enthusiasm for our usual pursuits.

It will end.

ronnie

Why I'm dreaming of Cayo Largo

On the same day I shot the video in the last post, a particularly close friend :) was also filming much better footage, and created this poignant short film. Which I hope is nominated for a Gemini, and an Oscar, and anything else they care to throw at it.



It's been that kind of winter.

ronnie

A walk in the snow

Walking home in Fredericton's 4th snowstorm in as many weeks... Blizzardy! It was snowing really hard when I took this but it was a fine snow and you can't really see it in this grainy cellphone video. Ah well, Husband requested snowy video so here it is!

Earl

Earl nailed us with apocalyptic rain in the early afternoon hours but the skies seem to be clearing now.

He was mostly a washout everywhere (although CBC is now reporting as breaking that one person drowned in Nova Scotia... let's hope he wasn't some fool who went to the beach to watch the waves... police have been chasing them off the beaches all day).

(Update: Turns out he was a guy trying, with a friend, to retrieve a boat that had broken loose of its moorings in Blind Bay, near Halifax. He was wearing a life jacket... but he didn't make it. I can't help but almost think it should've been one of those fools on the rocks at Peggy's Cove rather than him.)

However, over 200,000 people are without power in Nova Scotia right now according to one source and another 1200 in this province according to NB Power. Even when they're washouts, they're a royal pain.

And I believe there are two more on Earl's tail. Hurricane season is jolly fun for everyone.

ronnie

We're having a heat wave...

A heat wave is gripping the whole eastern half of the country, from Ontario to Nova Scotia (Newfoundland is cool all summer with temperatures from the teens to low 20s), and we're no exception. Temperatures topped out at 32° (90° F) here today; the humidex (a measure of the humidity and how it affects our bodies' perception of the temperature) suggested it felt like 41° (106° F).

I don't mind the heat much; I am the one who'd always rather be too hot than too cold. I luxuriate in heat. However, the sun shines on our second-story bedroom all afternoon and evening, and on hot days it becomes the hottest place in the whole house. That's why we got a very nice little air conditioner that keeps the bedroom cool and lets us sleep in comfort.

Except did I mention the house is being painted? Not only would the AC, which extends quite a ways outside the window, be in their way as they moved their ladders around that part of the house, but the window frames are being painted too. So for now we are just suffering the hot sweaty nights out. (Somehow the phrase "hot sweaty nights" sounds a lot more exciting than the reality we're living lately).

Supposed to be hotter still tomorrow!

Least you don't have to shovel it :)

ronnie

Invisibl lifegard

More to come. Meanwhile, after coming home to the first snowstorm of the season, we're having 15-25 more cms tonight!

ronnie

Now we're cookin' with gas.

On Friday, the nice man from the gas & electrical company installed our new gas range. We'd needed a new stove for awhile now, and now that we're on the natural gas grid, it was an opportunity to do something I'd always wanted - cook over flame. For years I've heard women from overseas wax ecstatic about their gas ranges in their country of origin, and how hard it was to adjust to the clumsy electric burners that are standard in Canadian homes. That jibed with all the research I was able to do online. Proponents of gas cooking are only slightly less passionate and evangelical than Apple fans.

I picked the stove, but Husband did the heavy lifting, arranging delivery and installation (which took about 4 hours).

It's taking some time to adapt, but so far I love it, love it, love it, love it, love it. Temperature control at the click of a knob. Everything cooks faster, and you can actually hit a sweet simmer spot when you want to.

I also picked up a netbook - an Acer Aspire One. Husband got one about a month ago, after a LOT of research, and has been really pleased with it. I love it - it can do so much of what a full-sized laptop can do, but at a fraction of the weight. It'll be ideal for travel.

Other than that, not much news. Summer's faded - the temps have dropped. Work is more challenging now, and my career is moving in directions I didn't really expect, but directions that both challenge, occasionally terrify, and excite me. This week will be challenging. And terrifying. I've been given a really important and very public assignment that shows my managers have a lot of faith in me and which will - if I pull it off - bring me a lot of credibility for future advancement.

Did I mention that I'm terrified?

ronnie

Kill Bill

That would be the best of all possible scenarios, but it looks like nothing will kill Bill before it dumps metres of rain and hurls tropical-storm-strength-winds on Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, at least.

Feh. Hurricanes we've done hundreds of times, if not thousands. Power might go out - batteries. Cash on hand. Fill up the car. Get rid of any planters or other potential projectiles in the back yard. Especially tie down or stow any patio furniture.

Interesting that in Newfoundland, where I grew up, these were always called "tailends" - tail ends of hurricanes from the south, never did much damage. In NB and NS these are not called "tailends" - they are not yet tail ends - they are usually tropical storms, and sometimes still hurricanes, and much scarier. (Google "Hurricane Juan Halifax" to understand why.)

ronnie

Relentless

While I was in Newfoundland dodging weather systems, the biggest single snowstorm in a generation hit southern New Brunswick, dumping 40cm of snow on Fredericton.

Husband sent me cellphone photos of our nearly-unrecognizable street while I sat, slack-jawed, wondering if anything was ever going to be back to normal.

He's a very good Husband, so he dug the car out from under that enormous mess so that he could pick me up at the airport. This is what Kate the Cruiser looked like on rollout.

Our tiny backyard, bound on all four sides by fences or structures, is literally full of shoulder-deep snow. It's so high we can't quite figure out how to start shoveling it.

We didn't get sidewalks until Thursday. That was a problem because between the downtown workers who use our street for day-parking and the snowbanks, we're down to one lane of traffic - which we pedestrians were sharing with morning auto commuters.

So from Friday to today, things were relatively normal. Tonight? There's another weather warning. And more snow on the way.

All this bodes very poorly for the upcoming flood season.

ronnie

One thin line, through a land so wild and savage

Just a quick update... the weather in Newfoundland was not cooperative and out of five days in the province, I got to spend about six hours over two days with my family. I did get out to see them on Saturday, but by Saturday night forecasts showed another storm hitting on Monday. That meant I'd need to get back to St. John's on Sunday before it hit or risk a) being stranded and missing my flight; or b) having to drive back in bad weather. Really bad weather.

You see, as I mentioned, there is just one small two-lane road leading to my parents' town; "one warm line, through a land so wild and savage"; and along much of it the landscape in winter looks like this.

Such landscapes in Newfoundland are known as 'barrens', for reasons which need no explanation...

Add regular gale-force winds (it's a peninsula in the Atlantic Ocean after all) and even a little snow turns into a white-out nightmare for scores of kilometres on end.

In fact, once or twice during the winter, drifting will close the highway altogether for a day or more. The worst time I remember is from my teens (it may have been the winter the Ocean Ranger - the largest oil rig in the world at the time - capsized). The road was closed for a week or more, and I remember the little local grocery store was getting mighty low on provisions before the plows managed to get the road opened up again.

So back I went on Sunday.

It doesn't matter. I went to see my parents and my sister, and to hug them, and tell them I love them. And while doing that was a challenge, I did it.

The rest is details.

ronnie

St. John's [Updated]

I flew into St. John's on Thursday, planning to drive out this morning for a visit with my parents and sister in my hometown, four hours outside of the capital. Newfoundland weather had other ideas and Thursday night an unexpected snowstorm hit St. John's, and the region my parents live in had a blowing snow warning. Blowing snow being a fact of life on the one thin road snaking to their home, the fact that anyone bothered to issue a warning was pretty dire. So I spent the day in St. John's. And of course, once driving was even possible, I visited my favourite spot here - which by then was enveloped in fog as the temperature rose - Signal Hill.

By the time I'd driven back down the hill, the fog had lifted and it was sunny. Such is the weather in Newfoundland.



One of the best things about coming back to Newfoundland is the chance to eat the world's absolutely best, freshest fish & chips, served up at little independent diners. I stopped in at Leo's Fish and Chips for a yummy lunch.

The menu is absolutely typical for a Newfoundland diner. Allow me to point out one of the local specialties: Chips, dressing & gravy. (So well-known is it that on some menus it's just listed as "C, D & G".) This is Newfoundland's version of poutine: french fries, topped with stuffing (as in, turkey stuffing), with gravy poured over the whole mess. It's delicious, fattening and takes 3 days to digest.

(By the way, "Drinks" is local slang for soft drinks - a menu might offer a special: "Small Fish & Chips & a Drink: $5.99" - and I love the fact that you can add peas & carrots to any dish for just 90 cents.)

After that I spent some time exploring old neighbourhoods. This is the house I was living in when I met Husband. I rented the top left flat of this place, and it was my favourite of the many apartments I lived in as a student and later a working girl. There was a window seat overlooking LeMarchant Road, and I spent many hours reading there in the sun.

And tonight, a special treat: some time with my brother - who I didn't think I'd have time to see. And best of all his son - my nephew - had a hockey game and I got to see him play for the first time. He's nine; an awesome kid and an earnest hockey player; he shows promise but as his Dad put it, he's not a naturally gifted player - he has to work for it. He's crazy about the game, and of course he's a Habs fan like his Dad and me. No goals but two assists tonight.

So the day was certainly not a waste in any way, as I got to see my Little Baby Brother (a 6'3", barrel-built, bearded motorcycle-rider who is sweet and impish and loves animals) and spend some time in my favourite place in the world, next to Cuba.

Tomorrow I finally hit the long, barren and fickle highway to my hometown. Wish me luck and good weather.

ronnie

Little Man

A sign of hope in the mail today - the Lee Valley Gardening catalogue.

It seemed particularly hopeful - or ironic, if you prefer - since I received it after digging a path through 1/2 metre of snow for the gas meter reader.

Lee Valley is the purveyor of many wondrous things (one of their specialties is bringing traditional Asian design to North American customers).

It's a good thing that Lee Valley is reminding us that spring is coming (when the reports from the various celebrity groundhogs came in yesterday, my thought was "only six more weeks of winter? sweet!") because Little Man's news has not been good lately.


This is Little Man. I gave him to Husband for his birthday last year. (He came from Lee Valley, too.) Little Man is actually a wireless weather station. He wirelessly communicates with a sensor in our backyard to give us instant information about the weather in our neighbourhood. I gave him to Husband because in the winter, the first words out of his mouth in the morning was inevitably, "What's the temperature?", as it tends to set the tone and, sometimes, schedule, for the rest of the day.

Photographing Little Man wasn't easy and lends an effect a bit like those new airport security scanners that see under your clothes. To the naked eye, Little Man's underwear lines are much less noticeable, but as you see, they do allow for a variety of outfits depending on the weather outside. Tonight it's -4.5°c outside and a cosy 18.9°c inside. There's also relative humidity (36 percent - is that high? We have a humidifier in here for the guitars) and a whole bunch of other stuff on there that Husband understands and I don't.

Because Little Man lives on his bedside table now, and the first thing I say in the morning is, "What does Little Man say?"

ronnie

Sparing a thought for others so afflicted

I've been so busy blogging about our own weather misery I have completely overlooked the trials of others.

Take this image reproduced with permission from Sherwood Harrington's photo blog PicShers of some students from DeAnza College making the best of a blizzard snowstorm fat rain snowfall of sorts, in California's Santa Cruz Mountains.

Our thoughts and prayers go out to them as they cope with this unexpected and clearly overwhelming weather event.

ronnie

Ya-hoo, Yo-ray, Welcome Winter, Winter Day

Last weekend another deep freeze hit us. We woke up yesterday morning to find the water in the kitchen frozen. (At least the car started. Since we don't use it daily to go to work, we have to start it periodically in these temperatures to warm up the engine.)

It's incredibly stressful, this, day after day of worrying what might break or be ruined in these temperatures, and what the resulting $cost$ will be. Running the water at a trickle con$tantly. Keeping the heat up all day and night in$tead of using the thermostat program that turns it down a bit while we're at work. Returning home during the workday to ensure nothing's frozen, or seized, or broken off. Getting up at night to do the same.

The culprit this time was a high pressure system that traveled southeast from Yukon. A really high pressure system. In fact:

"What we have seen are some incredibly high pressures. I mean, we have high pressure and there's high pressure, but this is really high," David Phillips, a senior climatologist with Environment Canada, told CBC News.

"It's almost as if you could see heads swelling in the Yukon, with all this air just on top of you."

Hmm. There's a mental image. Anyway, we got the water running to the kitchen again. Today, the temperature rose steadily all day. And all evening. Tonight, we're getting hammered by a low pressure system that's bringing 20-30 cm (8-12in) of snow, freezing rain, and rain.

And rising temperatures.

I swear to God, I never welcomed a snowstorm so warmly. Pun fully intended.

ronnie

What fresh hell is this?

Snapshot of the Cold Snap

Depending on where you live, you either suffered the recent cold snap (Hi, R.!), are suffering it (Hi, Mike!) or have read or heard about it.

We kept the taps dripping when the cold weather hit here last week, as we always do. That usually does the trick, but on Friday we woke up to find the water in the upstairs bathroom was frozen. Husband dutifully got out the heat gun and started tracing pipes, and by noon the water in the sink and bathtub was running, but not the toilet. (Since the pipes run from the sink, to the toilet, to the bathtub, this was a bit of a poser.) We kept checking the office underneath the bathroom for signs that a pipe had burst, but nothing. Just - nothing.

Then we found the car wouldn't start.

Since we both had to go to work, we decided to wait out the toilet (there's another one, which was working, downstairs), putting a space heater in the room and crossing our fingers. We don't need the car for work, so we decided to put off calling CAA until today.

This morning the toilet tank still wasn't refilling and the car still wouldn't start so Husband had another go with the heat gun (no go) and we called CAA, which was swamped and couldn't come until 4 pm or so. They came and jumped the battery. The car still wouldn't start. Then Husband and CAA guy noticed that the car actually has a plug-in, something we had no clue was there.

So we plugged in the car (duh!) and the CAA guy said he'd come back tomorrow and try again. But hey! The toilet tank refill line started running! ("It's the most beautiful sound in the world," I sighed.) So with everything under control, Husband left for his usual Saturday night visit to the pub and I settled in upstairs to read "The Audacity of Hope".

That's when there was an explosion outside my bedroom window and a shower of sparks. I thought kids were setting off fireworks in the street and ran downstairs to see what the heck was going on. Looking out the window of the foyer, I saw a thick black powerline snaking along the snowbank right outside the house, and the power pole at the end of the driveway - just a dozen or so metres from the house - was on fire. Our electricity was still on, but houses across the street were dark, and through their windows I could see flashlights flickering on.

As I've mentioned before, our street is downtown and constantly walked by pedestrians. I was freaking out a little by this time; I called 9-1-1 (again!) and stuffed the two struggling, protesting cats into their carriers while peering out windows up and down the street so that I could warn any approaching pedestrians away. By the time I'd gotten the cats banged up, there were firetrucks at both ends of our short street, warning people off. (Someone next door must've wandered out and tried to argue with the firemen about being able to go somewhere, because a fireman had a pretty dramatic shouting match with him or her, ordering him or her back into the building.)

Then the NB Power trucks arrived. That's when we lost our electricity (naturally they had to cut power to everyone so the poor brave NB Power soul could go up in his little bucket and do what he had to do). Now I had a new worry. No electricity=no heat, and we could lose all the pipes. The NB Power guy did his work - poor bastard, it's -24c (11f) right now - and Hallelujah!, the power came back on. As the NB Power guys walked back to the truck, one of them turned and saw me peering out the window. I did a kind of "tip my hat" to him, and he waved back. Thanks. You're welcome.

Once again I'm in awe of the guys who do the really hard jobs, the firemen and the cops and the utility people, and everyone else who works in the lousiest weather at the worst hours to make sure the rest of us are safe and warm.

Just a snapshot of the cold snap and how it's affecting our little family. As I said to Husband today, this is being repeated thousands of times by thousands of families all over the region. One damned thing after another.

ronnie

The View

This time last week:

Today:

Compare and contrast.

More later...

ronnie

Storm Watch

Thanks to everyone who sent best wishes in the comments thread for the post below... It looks now like Kyle will break up into a tropical storm but but yes, pass right over us. (Late tonight to tomorrow morning should be the worst of it.)

Nova Scotia and the southern shore of New Brunswick (Saint John etc.) will take the brunt because of wind and storm surge.

Everybody's going to get a damned good soaking, though, including Mike, as you can see from the current satellite image, taken about ten minutes ago, above.

The worst we're expecting here is a power outage, so we're well prepared for that (cats have been briefed and are wearing little tiny miners' helmets), and possibly some localized flooding because of the rains. (Autumn leaves are blocking some of the storm drains; yesterday a street perpendicular to ours was flooded until a city crew came by and cleared them.) So we're pulling for NS and southern NB and crossing our fingers.

ronnie