Let your photos(s) tell your story.
Let your photo(s) tell your story.
Although we’re currently experiencing a few weeks of bitterly cold temperatures, it’s been a fairly mild winter with little snow – a few inches here and there, but nothing that requires shoveling and so far no major storms. Now with the Polar Vortex settled in, it’s too cold to snow, (very cold air contains very little moisture) but when I think of all those long brutal winters when I drove through hell, it makes me angry that now that I’m retired, there’s practically nothing. Last week in part one, I blogged about Snowmageddon – the storm of the century, now in part two – let’s talk about the worst drive ever.
Those of you who live in regions which experience the four seasons in all their glory, may appreciate snow when it first appears in December, that nice white fluffy stuff that makes you want to book an inn in Vermont.
These people sensibly took the train…
But by February most people are sick of it, and almost everyone dreads winter driving. Oh, you get used to, but I bet you secretly rejoice when spring arrives and you don’t have to continually check the weather forecast for storms on the horizon. If you’re working from home now, lucky you, you get to escape it altogether this year.
Even if you’re a good driver, and have the ultimate heavy duty vehicle with snow tires and four wheel drive, you still have to worry about other people’s driving. And isn’t it always the worst during the first snowfall of the season, when it seems everyone has forgotten how to drive, and the police, called out to fifty or more cars in the ditch, are reminding everyone to slow down – winter is here.
If you do go slow, then inevitably there is someone on your tail, desperate to pass, usually a big truck. Once some impatient young man finally passed me on a bare stretch, then spun around on the next snowy patch, right into the ditch. I was tempted to wave at him as I drove past, but a farmer had already come out to help him. Why do people always expect farmers to pull them out with their tractors – get a CAA membership.
Snowmageddon made me think about my worst drive ever. There are two in particular which stand out in my memory.
The first was when I was in my twenties and had a little two seater Fiero. (Yes, I know, not exactly practical). I didn’t have much winter driving experience as I had gone to school in Toronto and took the subway. The Fiero’s engine was in the back for stability, but the car sat so low that you sometimes felt like you were plowing the road.
It was late November and I had gone to London with my parents to Toys R Us to buy Christmas presents for the grandkids-who-had-everything. It was a mild sunny day otherwise we wouldn’t have gone, as London is in the snowbelt area, but shortly after we got back to the farm, a storm came out of nowhere and I decided to drive home before it got worse. It was dark by then, and the snow was that heavy wet stuff and by the time I came up to the train tracks just outside of town the windows were coated with it. The red warning lights were on so I stopped, but they had been having problems with those lights for quite awhile and they would sometimes flash even if there wasn’t a train in sight. By then I was having a hard time seeing any distance at all. I opened both windows to check if a train was coming and the windshield fogged up, but I accidentally hit the trunk instead of the defogger button so the trunk lid flew up obscuring my rear view. I sat there for a few minutes, not sure what to do, until there was a long lineup of angry cars behind me, and finally some guy with a truck (it’s always a truck) blasted his horn. Maybe he could see better than I could? So I went over the tracks, too quickly and promptly spun out on the other side in front of an oncoming car but I managed to get back into my lane just in time. I arrived home quite shook up – not one of my better drives.
The other episode involved a particularly bad stretch of country road and a dark and stormy night. I was working the late shift and it had been snowing heavily for hours, and was really getting bad out there as every second person who came in insisted on telling me,as if I wasn’t already worried enough about the drive home. I should have stayed at the B&B in town, a newly restored Victorian with a skylight and claw-foot bathtub in the bathroom, but it was pricey and I wanted to be home in my own bed as I was off for the weekend. Both ends of this county road would usually be plowed out, but the middle section was always a no-man’s land. With no houses or buildings to block the wind, just wide open fields, it was the perfect storm for winter white outs. Luckily this section wasn’t well traveled as on many a snowy night I would often be the only fool on the road.
On this night it was so bad I couldn’t even tell where the road was. There was zero visibility. Was I too close to the ditch? Where was the ditch? If you’ve ever driven a county road in the dark, there are no streetlights, only the light from your headlights. I crawled along, plowing through the drifts, chewing gum (as opposed to clenching jaw) and listening to Pachelbel’s Cannon on repeat – my routine for those white-knuckle drives. I’m sure there was an angel on my shoulder that night. When I finally drove out of it, the road was still heavy with drifted-on snow but I could see the light from some of the farmhouses on either side – a navigation point , signs of civilization.
A friend of mine ran into a pack of wild dogs/coyotes one night in that same section. They must have become disoriented in the snow to have come so far out of the bush and refused to move off the road. She finally drove through them and they parted – what a strange sight that must have been, a bunch of eerie eyes glaring at her, as if she had invaded their territory.
I’ve had other bad drives too (hey it’s Canada), and some thankfully, where I wasn’t driving. Men always think they can drive through everything, and maybe you can if you have a big SUV/truck. At least then I could close my eyes and pretend to sleep or read a book to take my mind off the fact that we might be following a long line of red taillights right into a ditch. I’d much rather drive in heavy rain than snow, more traction, but recall one horrible night drive in a fog so thick I could barely see the lines on the road. Where was Rudolph when you needed him?
Now that I’m retired, I’m grateful to be able to stay home when the weather outside is frightful, and looking back, I often wonder how I did it for thirty years? I’m not such a brave driver now that I’m older – I’ve become a weather wimp. If there’s a blizzard outside, I stay home and bake cookies, and say a prayer for those poor souls who must brave the elements to go to work.
What’s the worst drive you’ve ever experienced?
The nor’easter which hit the US and Maritimes recently reminded me that it’s the ten year anniversary of “Snowmageddon” – the storm of the century in my part of Canada. A raging blizzard so bad that a massive dump of snow closed the major highway for two whole days. Police patrolling the area on snowmobiles counted 200 tractor trailers and more than 100 cars trapped in the drifts, but the unofficial count put the number much higher, with estimates of 1500 passengers stranded and 700 rescued, with many vehicles simply abandoned on the country roads.
The storm started brewing on Sunday. Snow squalls coming off the lake usually move, but this one stayed stationary dumping over 40 cm of snow on the roads with 70 km/hr north winds making for blustery driving conditions. A state of emergency was declared on Monday and the national guard was called in, complete with rescue helicopters to airlift passengers who had been stranded in their vehicles overnight or longer.
A snowplow towing a school bus was dispatched to collect people along the route and bring them to warming stations in the nearby villages. By Tuesday night close to 300 motorists had been rescued from the worst hit section, but it took several more days for the plows and tow trucks to clear the 30 km stretch of highway and start in on the side roads. At the rescue centres, residents of the small towns and villages were generous with food donations, blankets and cots and some even opened up their homes to grateful strangers.
Now, it’s nothing new for this highway to be closed periodically in the winter, usually just for a short period of time as streamers coming off the lake make the area notorious for sudden white-out conditions. I should know, as I drove to work in this region for over thirty years. As an essential worker, I was used to driving in anything, but even I did not go to work that day because all the roads in the area were closed. People who had detoured off the main highway soon found themselves on roads less traveled but just as deep with drifts. Friends of mine took in a couple who were stranded in front of their farm – for two days they fed them home-cooked meals, and played cards and told stories and so people from the city got to experience a dose of rural hospitality until their vehicle could be pulled out of the ditch.
When I was working, I dreaded winter. It might be bright and sunny when I left home, but by the time I reached the snowbelt area it would be a raging blizzard. If you didn’t go in you were home safe but sorry, as you would inevitably feel guilty about leaving your colleagues with a skeleton staff and a 12 hour shift and you’d make up for your day off with an increased workload the following day. But I was a dedicated employee who seldom even took a sick day, so I’d go in and the drive would be predictably awful and my nerves would be shot by the time I got home.
When I worked at a rural hospital, I was lucky as I drove in daylight. If it was bad out, I might leave a bit early to get away before dark, and if it was an exceptionally wicked storm I was allowed to stay home, at my discretion. This would happen maybe once a year. As so many of the employees lived out in the country, the hospital had a contingency plan where the current staff stayed over, and someone’s husband with a snowmobile could always be counted on to go out and collect the staff who lived in the town. There wouldn’t be a lot of admissions on those days, surgeries would often be cancelled if the surgeons couldn’t get out, (once one of the doctors had to do a C-Section by phone when even the ambulance couldn’t get there), but the ER would be busy with the usual disasters that such weather always brings on – heart attacks for the snow-shovelers (best stock up on clot busters) car accidents, (hopefully minor, but not always, hence my anxiety about winter driving), and once someone frozen under the ice in a creek overnight (miraculously he survived intact).
After I changed jobs and started working evenings, there was no backup plan. I drove through everything as the only excuse for not showing up at work was if you were dead. Snowmageddon was the only time I ever remember my workplace being closed, and that was only for one day. Even my boss didn’t go in that day, having turned down the offer of a snowmobile ride. It was one of the few occasions where there was nothing open and nobody out and about. The hospital was open of course, so it’s not like people were without medical options. In fact, ER was doubly busy with all the stranded people who did not have their insulin/inhalers/critical meds with them. And just for the record, this storm had been predicted – there had been plenty of warnings and advance notice starting on Sunday, so it’s not like it came out of nowhere, but some people don’t pay attention to the weather forecast. I always had the weather network and the winter road report on speed-dial, and my emergency car kit would go in the trunk in the fall and stay there until May 1st. Once November skies darkened and the flurries began to fly, my snow anxiety level remained on high alert.
Although I was some distance from the worst hit region, I didn’t have a snow day. I offered to pick up a shift for someone who lived along the lake and had no hope of getting here – she actually started crying on the phone, so great was her relief. I only had a short drive and once I made it out of my subdivision it was okay. It always amazed me how busy we would be on snow days, but I’ve reached the conclusion that some people just cannot deal with the claustrophobia of a snowstorm. They must be out and about in the worst of weather conditions – to the grocery store to buy eggs, the library to return books – any excuse will do.
The next day, when the county road was still closed, I called my boss and told him I was not coming in. This was met with a stony silence (and probably some degree of shock) and then a small voice….well couldn’t you come in later, if the road reopens? It did finally at 4 pm, but no, I did not, as I would have had a miserable drive home in the dark, and there would have been no hope of booking in at the only B&B with all those stranded passengers. I didn’t even feel guilty as there was no thanks for helping him out the day before, and it’s not like he was by himself as someone who lived in town had come in to help him out. The next day the sun shone and my courage returned, but there was hell to pay, as we were still backed up, but personally I’d rather be safe than dead in a ditch.
We’ve had very little snow this winter, a few inches here and there, but no major snowstorms so far, although there has been in other parts of the province. When I think of all those years I drove through hell and now that I’m retired, practically nothing, it makes me mad. It also makes me wonder about climate change. Maybe blizzards will soon be a thing of the past? Maybe I’ll be like one of those old people telling tales about walking ten miles to school in two feet of snow….and reminiscing about the big blizzard of 2010. (Next week – Part Two – The Worst Drive Ever)
PS: Does your workplace have a snowstorm contingency plan? It seems to me that some places are open when they needn’t be. Like the library for instance – is that an essential service? I wish administrations would think about their staff when they make decisions, especially if they are driving home at night. Even closing early would help.
It there’s ever been a time for comfort food, it’s now, in the winter of our discontent. Eating well is one of the few things we have to look forward to, locked in our homes day after day and our favorite dishes can return us to a time when the world seemed a more secure and safe place.
Comfort food is defined as “food that provides consolation or a feeling of well-being, typically any dish with a high sugar or other carbohydrate content and associated with childhood or home cooking.” (Oxford Dictionary) We may feel nostalgic for a favorite dish our mother used to make. Wikipedia even lists a breakdown of favorite comfort dishes according to nationality. (link) I’m glad to see butter tarts made the Canadian list, but my childhood butterscotch pudding did not. While nursery type foods such as puddings and oatmeal are often considered comfort foods, so are more hearty dishes like soups and stews and macaroni and cheese. Calorie dense, high carb, high fat foods may trigger the reward system in the brain, leading to a temporary elevation of mood and relaxation. Whatever the mechanism, we take comfort in refueling our bodies.
Today’s recipe is for Easy Microwave Rice Pudding. I’m not a big fan of rice pudding, but my mother loves it and those individual packaged portions are a staple on her grocery list. Last week when I was confronted by a whole container of leftover white rice from the Chinese restaurant (they insist on adding it to the takeout order even if you don’t want it), I decided to look for a recipe online, something simple, nothing to do with steaming in a double boiler etc. I’m all about easy these days, when we’ve been spending way too much time in the kitchen, and also against waste, when so many people are suffering from food insecurity.
1/2-3/4 cup sugar (I used brown sugar)
2 tablespoons cornstarch (30ml)
3 cups of milk
2-3 cups cooked rice (I used 2 1/2 cups as that’s what was in the Chinese food container)
1 teaspoon vanilla
The recipe also called for 1/4 teaspoon salt, one egg and 2 tablespoons of butter (the butter is optional) – all of which I omitted. I’m guessing the egg would add a creamy texture, or maybe the microwave would just hard-boil it, but eggs were in low supply so I left it out. I also added the vanilla at the beginning instead of the end, so it acquired a nice vanilla flavor as it cooked.
Whisk the ingredients in a large microwave bowl. Add raisins if you want, (I added them at the end as some people don’t like raisins and I didn’t want to overcook them). Put in microwave and cook 1 – 1 1/2 minutes. Remove and whisk. Put back in microwave for another 1 – 1 1/2 minutes. Remove and whisk again. Continue above steps until desired thickness – but don’t let it get too thick. You want it a little less than desired as it will continue to thicken as it sits. I repeated this four times but mine was a bit too thick, but then I only used 2 cups of milk initially.
Add anything else you want, cinnamon or nutmeg. Serve warm, or you can reheat with a splash of milk if it gets too thick. Makes six servings.
I forgot to take a pretty photo of it but here it is packed up in a container to be taken to someone who appreciates it more than I do.
Hot chocolate is a comfort food I associate with childhood snow days, but now use as a reward after my daily exercise. Walking in such frigid temperatures (it’s January-cold now), definitely requires a treat.
I put a teaspoon or two of a good quality cocoa in a mug, add milk and sugar to taste and microwave the whole thing for a few minutes, stirring frequently to dissolve. So much better than those powdered pods, mixes or heated chocolate milk with it’s six teaspoons of sugar!
Chicken pot pie is one of my favorite comfort dishes this winter. I’m spoiled by the deli’s takeout version, (it’s rich as they use cream) but if you have leftover chicken and frozen veggies you can whip up an easy meal. I tried this one with a biscuit topping, but think I prefer puff or regular pastry.
Any kind of soup qualifies as comfort food. My mother still likes to make a big pot of chicken soup occasionally, but Campbell’s chicken noodle is always my go-to on sick days, and scrambled eggs and toast when I’m feeling better but not quite recovered.
When I was growing up, my mother made wonderful macaroni and cheese from scratch, something I’ve never bothered with as my cheese sauce never turns out as good as hers. Stouffers frozen mac and cheese is a close second, and if you spread bread crumbs on the top the last twenty minutes in the oven and bake until they are toasty brown, it can mimic homemade. Served with a green salad it makes a comforting and filling meal. A hearty homemade chili or beef stew is also a nice wintry dish, especially served with some nice fresh pumpernickel bread.
Today’s menu was meatloaf, just because it’s January and below zero.
But the ultimate winter comfort food award goes to that old favorite – grilled cheese and tomato soup. Best served after shoveling out the driveway.
Oatmeal with brown sugar is a particularly filling start to the day, but I sometimes like it before bed, especially if I’m in the mood for something sweet.
I hope I have made you hungry! What are your favorite comfort dishes?
Postscript: Don’t forget to give the birds a treat…..and all creatures great and small. (Is anyone else finding that mini-series just a tad disappointing? Usually Masterpiece is spot on in their casting, but the actors seem either too old or too young for the part. The best acting so far goes to the cows and last week, the racehorse. The scenery is beautiful though, you can’t go wrong with sheep in green fields with stone walls.)
Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.
The crowd standing near the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was a sea of black. It was Armistice Day in Ottawa and the mood was somber, as was fitting for a ceremony commemorating the war dead. There was the odd splash of red or gray among the thousands of people huddled on this cold snowy November morning, but this was the reality of a Canadian winter, solemn occasion or not – we are a nation of black coats.
The vast majority of winter coats come in only one color – black, and one style – big and puffy, as in parkas that are flattering to no one, not even penguins. They range in price from the cheaper now-defunct Sears version all the way up to the down-filled fur-trimmed Canada Goose brand which retails for $1000 and which has become the latest target of thieves. Dare to leave your Canada Goose dangling on the back of your Starbucks chair while you fetch a stir stick and you might return to find it gone.
Winter weather is here to stay now, but I’m not worried – I’ve got it covered. After years of looking, I bought not one but THREE winter coats this year – and none of them were black.
It had been well over a decade since I’d bought a dressy winter coat, although whether a toggle coat can be considered dressy is debatable, but it was the style in 2008 and it came in red and petite (I come from a long line of leprechauns). The next year, I bought a red ski jacket with a plaid flannel lining, after seeing it in Oprah magazine. It too came in red, but a bright candy apple red, not that dreadful orange tone.
These were both nice serviceable coats, but with our long winters ten years is a good amount of time to get out of a coat. I was way overdue for a new one – but everything was black. The coat manufacturers had been playing it safe since the last recession.
Oh, I understand the appeal of black. It’s practical. It doesn’t show dirt. It’s easy to accessorize. It goes with everything. It’s classic and tres chic, as in you can pretend you’re a famous fashion editor and of course, some black is okay as in Twenty Pairs of Black Pants or the LBD – Little Black Dress. This is by no means meant to be disparaging to those of you who like black and can wear it – by all means do!
But what if you don’t like black. Or look good in it? I find that for many women of a certain age, black near the face is draining, it makes your skin look pale or sallow. If you are old enough to remember the 80’s having-your-colors-done craze where a franchised sales rep draped swatches of color near your face to determine if you were a Winter Spring Summer or Autumn, then you will know what I mean.
As a pale Celtic Summer, I knew black was out for me, not even with a scarf for camouflage. Plus, I find winter dreary enough without being in mourning – I need something colorful to cheer me up.
In younger years when I was a dedicated fashionista, I did my fair share to support the clothing economy. Now that I’m retired, I live in yoga pants and casual tops and spend very little on clothes. I don’t wear most of what I own and it seems wasteful to buy more, so I shop in my closet. Fast fashion is not for me, I want quality and style. If the latest trends are lacking I feel it’s my duty to leave ugly clothes in the stores where they belong. Why buy something, unless you need and absolutely love it?
I’ve had many winter coats over the years, but only a few I remember. Fellow Fashionistas might enjoy a historical look at my multi-colored coat collection, beginning in the sixties with purple velvet.
I’m twelve and still in grade school, but the Age of Aquarius is dawning and purple velvet is groovy. My coat was short and belted like the style below, and not a crushed velvet but more of a velour. It was also too big for me but my mother let me buy it anyway.
Mini skirts were the current thing (uh huh – Cher), and although I loved my Princely purple coat, it was not as mod as my teacher’s long black maxi coat, worn while patrolling the schoolyard during recess and the envy of all the girls. (We also envied her cute boyfriend – although she was only 19, they were already engaged). Sewing was popular back then so there were even McCall’s patterns should you wish to make your own. I would never have tackled such an ambitious project, no matter how alluring the ads in Seventeen.
In the early 70’s, my first years of high school I wore a long corduroy coat in a rich dark brown, double breasted with a belt.
The belt came in handy as the coat was too big for me, a size 11/12 when I normally wore a 7/8 or 9/10, but my mother let me buy it anyway. (I so seldom asked for anything, that my mother was a pushover). That’s the best thing about online shopping now, you can get the size you need, back then it was just what was on the rack. Sizing was also different, size 2 or 4 didn’t even exist.
When I was sixteen, I bought a loud plaid wool coat at Saks because the sales rep told me I looked like the cover of Mademoiselle, a magazine I was not familiar with but went right out and bought.
While not quite the same pattern as above, mine had red, green and yellow, and while I love plaid to this day, it was not a tasteful plaid at all. Even I was surprised my mother let me buy it. My dad said it looked like a horse blanket. It was the one and only thing I ever bought there, as it was too expensive a store for us to shop at regularly. It fit perfectly but I only wore it one year. By university I considered it too garish and trendy as I had graduated to Glamour magazine by then and something more classic.
During university, I found a lovely wool camel coat at the Eaton’s store in downtown Toronto which I wore for the next several years. A knockoff of the classic wrap style, it was suitable for a student budget and I can still picture myself wearing it over my jeans, striding around campus late for class as usual. One night I went to a formal with it draped over my long red dress, an evening that started with an argument about whether to wear a wrap or a coat – it was January what was I thinking?
In the early 80’s, the start of my working years I had a long oatmeal colored coat which my mother said reminded her of the 1940’s swing coats. When I had more money, I splurged on a designer camel wrap coat with a detachable fur collar, which I still have as what would I do with it? (Poor little fox, but like Oprah says, when you know better you do better).
I suppose I could wear it with the collar removed but the coat is so heavy and long it might qualify as a maxi. As the climate changes, perhaps it will end up in a museum some day, a Doctor Zhivago-like relic of cold winters past?
Musical Interlude: (better version by Sarah Vaughn at the end).
I’m not the only one who wore fur – full length coats used to be considered essential on the bitterly cold Canadian prairies where people were known to run from their cars to the house – now replaced by more modern insulating synthetics. It was too expensive and much too dressy a coat to wear everyday, although it did look great with a hat – that was in the Lady Diana years, when you could wear a hat without people staring at you.
In the later 80’s came a long royal blue wool coat with gigantic shoulder pads. It too only lasted one season before it was recycled to the thrift shop as it was way too bright.
The 90’s meant another camel coat, cloth this time, with a dark brown fake fur collar – real fur being out by then. It was stylish but practical and I wore that coat for years. All these 80-90-‘s coats were long by the way, because women wore skirts and suits to work.
By the millennium pants were in, and even dressy coats became shorter, what used to be called a car coat. This was the brown decade. I had a brown trench coat with a lining for work, not really warm enough for winter, and a more casual brown velour/sherpa L.L.Bean coat with a matching hat and mitts, which was a bit too big but I couldn’t be bothered to return it, as it was a hassle with the duty and taxes. It was on the cover of the LL Bean catalogue and while cute and stylish, it too was by no means warm enough for our Canadian winters. I must have stayed inside that decade. Then came the red coats who overstayed their welcome.
The decade of drought ensued – the only coats in the stores were black. I searched for years, refusing all things black and puffy, but since I succumbed to the lure of online shopping, my life has become a lot more colorful again.
Last year, I bought a beautiful soft blue wool coat at Reitmans, a mid-range somewhat frumpy Canadian women’s chain which has been in operation since 1926. It was $190 regular, but a steal for $75 at the Black Friday sales. Ordered a small online.
To Meghan Markle’s credit, she did give Reitmans quite a stylish update when she was their spokesperson before she married Prince Harry. (Her TV series, Suits was filmed in Toronto). The coat was very warm too, as some wrap coats tend not to be if they have a silk lining. It was classic and stylish, and I got many compliments on the periwinkle blue color, even from complete strangers. Welcome back to Canada, Meghan – you can resume your old job at Reitmans any time! (My prediction is Meghan will start a fashion label with her designer friend Jessica Mulroney, Harry can be a stay at home dad. Nothing I’ve heard, just my guess as to why they would trademark the name Sussex Royal).
I still needed a new ski jacket, so I started looking early this year and was lucky to find a Columbia at a 40% off Black Friday sale at Marks Work Wearhouse, another Canadian staple. Ordered a small online.
Red again, but a duller red with a gray fur hood which luckily went with all of my winter scarves, so no need to accessorize, it was already done.
So, I thought I was finished, new dressy coat and new ski jacket.
But the ski jacket wasn’t warm enough for walking. Nor windproof. That Omni-heat lining is way over-rated. So, when I saw a $300 gray down-filled Columbia jacket at Sportscheck, I watched for the pre-Christmas sales for 50% off and ordered online.
It came by Canada Post (so no porch pirates), fit perfectly and went with all my scarves. I was definitely on roll here, but I also realized I had become one of those shoppers retailers hate – people who browse in stores and then buy online, but it’s not my fault if they don’t have my size.
Then came the Boxing Day Bargain. I went back to Reitmans to buy more socks (Christmas presents now marked down to $6 from $20), and there on the sale rack was a gray herringbone tweed wrap coat ($70, no tax, regular $190), just calling my name.
Did I need another coat? No, but it was my size so I bought it anyway. It’s not warm enough for very cold weather, but perfect for the edge seasons, late fall and early spring. And a classic – the kind of coat Meghan Markle might wear. Even the sewn-in back belt was stylish, plus it went with all my red and gray winter scarves.
After adding up all these great deals, I’m left wondering why anyone would ever pay full price? I also remembered what fun shopping used to be – when you found something you liked!
So I now own two dressy wrap coats, one warm (blue), and one lighter (gray tweed), and two ski jackets, one light (red) one for the car and running errands, and one down (gray) parka for walking and very cold days. It’s January and the Visa bill has arrived. I dare not go coat shopping for the next decade at least.
PS. Do you have a favorite winter coat – style and color?
PS. Just for the record, no one observed me photographing my coats on the dining room floor! My house is dark in the winter and I needed a window, for maximum light. Some photos sourced online and from my collection of vintage fashion magazines. I saved a few from the attic and while looking through old 70’s Glamours I was amazed at how classic some of the styles were, but then I haven’t read a fashion magazine in well over 25 years. Maybe some of that stuff is back in – I see pants are getting wider again, just when I just got rid of all mine. (2300 words – sorry)
A better version of Button Up Your Overcoat.
It’s here. Finally. Winter. We’ve been spoiled so far with good weather in my corner of Canada, with only one big snowstorm in early November and just an inch or two since then. Like much of North America, we had a green Christmas. It’s been cold then balmy, flurries then rain, zigzagging back and forth like Mother Nature can’t make up her mind. But now that winter is upon us, we might as well decide to embrace it. Here are some ways to enjoy the season or at least feel grateful to be hibernating inside.
Leave the Christmas decorations up. While you might want to pack up Santa and his reindeer, there’s no reason you can’t enjoy all the twinkly lights for another month or two. I usually leave my greenery up until Valentine’s Day.
Leave the outside decorations up too. Snow on a plaid ribbon looks especially festive.
If you love the smell of pine, light a scented candle and indulge in some small luxuries like pine hand soap and hand cream.
Have oatmeal for breakfast, with raisins and brown sugar.
Then go for a walk in your warm parka. If the seagulls can brave the cold you can too.
Reward yourself afterwards by trying out a new hot drink. Steep an Earl Gray teabag in a cup of steamy apple cider for a sweet/tart taste.
Wear something in a cheerful plaid, preferably flannel.
If you don’t own anything plaid, enjoy your morning coffee in a plaid mug.
Look out the window at the snow and be glad you don’t have to drive in it.
Take advantage of being stuck indoors and spend a productive day cleaning out your closets. Save a scarf for a snowman. Once you have room, buy a new winter coat on sale, in any color but black. Winter needs a shot of color.
If you must venture out, keep warm and look stylish by learning how to tie scarves like the weather forecasters on TV. I swear they must take a course. Winter is also one of the few seasons where you can wear a hat and not get stared at.
Bake something, anything that smells good – muffins, cookies. apple crisp. Go outside and come back in just so you can smell the kitchen.
While you’re outside, feed the birds.
Go bird-watching with binoculars. Hunt for those elusive cardinals with your camera.
If you’re lucky enough to get a snow day and the kids are off school, build a snowman or two.
Have a competition for the best one in the neighborhood.
Have tomato soup and grilled cheese for lunch – you’ll need stamina to shovel the end of the driveway where the snowplow has dumped a row of boulders the size of icebergs.
Make comfort food for supper. Turkey stew anyone?
January is sofa season. Watch a movie or read your favorite magazines.
Read a book or two….or sixteen. Buy enough books for the whole winter so you don’t have to go to the library at all.
We’ve all been hygged to death but comfy PJ’s, warm socks and flannel sheets on a cold winter’s night help make things warm and cozy. A velour or chenille robe for chilly mornings is great too. Not sure if I would have paid $35 for a pair of reading socks, but $12 on sale is good.
Have cookies and cocoa before bed.
And to all a good night! Happy January! (600 words and lots of pictures)
Chances are if you’re reading this, you have a roof over your head and a warm comfortable bed to sleep in on a cold winter’s night. But what if you were reading this on a computer at the library and after the closing announcement is made, you have nowhere else to go. Do you join the other homeless people sleeping on the street? What if you decided to stay right there in the library, which after all is for the Public.
That is the premise for the movie, The Public, a 2018 entry at the Toronto International Film Festival. (We have a local theatre which shows TIFF selections the following winter. It’s nice to see some of these lesser known indie films. I need to add TIFF to my bucket list).
After one of their friends is found dead from hypothermia, a group of homeless people decide to stage a protest and occupy the library in downtown Cincinnati to escape the freezing cold. Starring an ensemble cast, the film was written and directed by Emilio Estevez, who plays the role of the head librarian. While the movie is a Hollywood version with perhaps not the best acting (with so many characters there’s not much time for character development), it’s worth a look, if only for it’s focus on such an timely topic. (see Trailer at the end)
Homelessness is a growing problem everywhere, fueled by the increases in drug addiction and mental illness. In many cities, rents are high and vacancies few. Even in my own small city the homeless shelters are often full and they are planning extensions to meet the demand. When there’s no room at the inn, the city has to cough up money to pay for stays in motel rooms – 99 people in total last year. Sometimes the shelters don’t have any female beds. Sometimes they’re not centrally located. Some have strict rules on drugs and alcohol, some don’t. It’s a complex problem and one not likely to get better anytime soon.
My first glimpse of a homeless person was decades ago looking down from the window of my hotel room near Times Square. There was a man rooting through a garbage can and another one curled up sleeping in a doorway. I remember being horrified. (I’m reminded of the opening scene of the 2006 memoir The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls, (link) where the author is riding in a taxi cab in New York City and sees her mother going through the garbage cans. If you’ve not read this book it’s a riveting read about her escape from a childhood of poverty, much better than the movie version). Homelessness used to be a big city problem but now every city and town is dealing with the same issue and the ones you see sleeping on the street are just the tip of the iceberg. Many times the problem is a hidden one as the couch surfers and car sleepers are not as visible.
The street people are not so common in my city that I don’t notice them. Although they seem to congregate in certain areas downtown where I seldom go at night unless to the theatre, I have noticed a few about during the daytime with all their worldly possessions loaded onto a cart. Once I was at the farmers market and a woman was approaching people outside asking for money to buy food. I gave her ten dollars but wondered if it would go for food or drugs? A friend of mine gives out Tim Horton’s gift cards for this reason. Recently a Tim Horton’s franchise was in the news after posting a notice on the door that patrons were not to linger longer than thirty minutes. There was such a backlash that it was quickly taken down. Of course the senior men’s coffee club members were upset, but it wasn’t aimed at them. It was aimed at the homeless. They had overstayed their welcome. I remember seeing one young man, looking like hell on a bender, begging in front of the mall – someone’s son. Last March there was a middle aged man holding a cardboard sign – Need Money for Food and Rent – at a busy intersection near Walmart. He was there for weeks, with all the cars driving past him in the pouring rain, and the sad thing is there was a church just down the street which I’m sure must have tried to assist him. Imagine how destitute you would have to be to resort to that. Can you help people who don’t want to help themselves, who are just looking for the next fix. While our Canadian government finances free injection sites and naloxone overdose kits, funded by tax dollars, we don’t even have a Rehab program for those who do want help. They’ve been talking about it for years.
Obviously there are no easy answers, but the homeless shelter here is working on solutions. It has programs which will try to find affordable housing and help with rent and utility bills. How many people are just one pay cheque away from being evicted? You can get food from the food bank or the soup kitchen and clothes from the thrift store, but the rent must be paid and a little financial assistance with overdue bills just might keep another person off the street. A Circles social program has also been started, aiming to break the cycle of poverty by means of personal support for a family or individual. It’s a small dent in a big problem but at least they’re trying.
When I returned the DVD to the library, I asked the library staff about their personal experiences. While not really an issue at my small branch, those who worked downtown at the main branch mentioned them coming in to get out of the cold and using the washroom in the mornings to clean up, (a scene depicted in the movie). They said there was always a box of donated gloves, scarfs, socks and toiletries for anyone to take if needed. One even told me they gave someone a ride to the homeless shelter one night as the buses had stopped running by the time the library closed. In the opening sequence of the movie there’s an old 50’s black and white newsreel, which talked about careers and the role of the Public library. I’m sure no librarian back then envisioned that particular type of social assistance would one day become part of their job description.
If you enjoy a movie with a message, you might enjoy The Public, and no matter how good or bad your day has been, when you go to bed tonight be grateful for a warm bed to sleep in.
PS. (Be forewarned, there are a few scenes in the movie which some people might find objectionable). (1100 words)
Trailer for The Public:
One of the best things to enjoy about winter is skating. In fact, years ago you wouldn’t have been considered Canadian if you didn’t like skating, my generation having been raised on hockey and a daily dose of outdoor exercise. If you were a true Canadian, you never missed watching Hockey Night in Canada on Saturday nights. I admit I haven’t skated in years and thought to take it up again in retirement, but my last Bone Density test was not good, so I fear my skating days are over. Watching the neighbors kids through my kitchen window is the closest I have come to the sport lately, and although I might have been moaning about having to do the dishes by hand at least I had a pleasant scene to gaze upon, especially after school when the spotlights were glowing, and the flurries flying. Still, I was wondering, what if I built my own skating rink? I have such a big square rectangle of a back yard, that it seems a shame to waste it.
Now that the neighbors have moved, I seldom see any children playing outside in the winter or in the summer either. When I first moved to this subdivision there were always games of street hockey after school, now everyone is inside on their video games. I grew up skating on the farm. There was a low spot behind the barn which made for an excellent skating rink when it was flooded. Here is a picture my mother painted of it, complete with the family dogs. My brothers and cousins would sometimes go to the pond at the back of the farm to play hockey, but it was a long way to walk, there and back, in the cold.
Although skating was one of my favorite winter activities, I was not thrilled about having to wear black skates. They were hand-me-downs from my brother, but my mother probably figured it didn’t matter as who would see us, way out in the country,
But even at age six I knew that black skates were for boys – girls wore white skates, for figure skating. By the time the arena was built in town and free skating hours were held on Sundays, I had a pair of white skates as I simply refused to go otherwise. The best thing about skating in the arena was the music blaring from the loudspeakers, but it was the sixties and we had the Beatles and other groovy tunes. While cleaning out the basement a few years ago I found the diary I got for Christmas the year I was eleven. We had a skating rink at school that January, courtesy of some long forgotten but dedicated teacher, and practically every day the entry is the same – “went skating at lunch hour”. Re-reading the diary, I seem to have been obsessed with skating, but maybe I had nothing else to write about – our lives were simpler and more uneventful back then. By the time the February thaw came I had given up on both the skating and the writing and the rest of the diary is just a series of blank pages.
The winters were colder too and longer, at least it seems so in retrospect. I remember my cousin and I once skating over the fields when we were teenagers – there was such a hard crust of freezing rain and ice on top of the snow that the whole farm was our skating rink that weekend.
My dad remembers a few years where the winter was so cold and the ice build up so thick that it was possible to skate on the river. That would be dangerous now, and probably was then too. My mother lost a childhood friend, a teenage boy who fell through the ice. She was to go with him and another friend that day, but she didn’t have any skates. My dad saved up $5 in the Depression to buy his first pair of skates.
Skating must be in my genes, as my maternal grandmother hailed from Holland, where she remembered skating on the canals in the winter. While every small town in Canada has an indoor skating arena, there are very seldom any outdoor rinks anymore, and by outdoor rinks I mean big community rinks, not just a small square of ice in someone’s backyard. Occasionally someone’s attempt to build a backyard rink gets shut down because of zoning bylaws or neighbors complaining about the noise, but kudos to the brave dads who attempt it, as they are the ones standing out at midnight in the freezing cold flooding the thing every night.
Being outside in the fresh air was always part of the fun, layering up with double socks and mittens and thick scarfs around our necks and faces…..and then coming in hours later with red cheeks and frozen fingers to warm up over hot chocolate. Some winters are just not suitable, it’s too mild or rainy, or just not cold enough – you must have a consistent spell of below freezing weather….the old six weeks of winter thing. We did not even get our first major snowstorm this year until January 19, so this has not been the best year for making ice, but we are now in for a prolonged spell of below freezing windchill weather, so why don’t we have more outdoor rinks? I see parcels of empty land here and there around town and think now that would make an ideal skating rink. It seems to me that it wouldn’t be that expensive to build a temporary ice rink, and think of the fun the kids could have. We have splashpads now that cost $150,000 instead of swimming pools. You can skate in an arena where ice time is rare and always scheduled, but there’s nowhere to play a pick-up game of shimmy. Many larger cities have skating centres, like Nathan Phillips Square in downtown Toronto. You can skate on the Rideau Canal in Ottawa, but the weather is much colder in our nation’s capital. If I’m ever in New York in the wintertime I would risk falling and breaking a hip just to be able to skate at the Rockefeller Centre – but first I would make sure I have travel insurance!
Having a backyard rink would be fun for the adults too. I’ve often thought a skating party would be nice idea for a New Years Eve party, for all ages – the music – the outdoor lights – a bonfire – hot drinks – good food. Chili and potato soup, or lobster Newburg and champagne if you want something fancier. I used to talk sports with one of my work colleagues, who was a real hockey fiend. Every year I would joke, “Bob, do you think this is the year I will have a skating rink?“ and he would reply, “If you build it, we will come.”
I still have my skates – they are in the basement somewhere. Am I brave enough to take a spin? I wish I had a rink outside my back door….
Song of the Day: Joni Mitchell – I Wish I Had a River
Beverage of the Day: Hot Chocolate made with imported Valrhona French cocoa….at $20 a box it’s expensive but worth it and not at all bitter as dark chocolate can sometimes be.