Taking the heat for spring snow

(April 14) - I need to apologize to all my friends and neighbours. It was my fault.

A little over a week ago, Sunday was a lovely day. Nice and warm. The sort of day people get out for a walk, wearing sweaters or light jackets. Some even wearing shorts. You could take your socks off and put your sandals on.

There was a great couple of weeks before it. Balmy spring weather. The day before had been miserable, mind you. An awful wind was howling all night. A wake-up wind. It was still going in the morning when we went to market.

It was the wind that is absolutely horrible when blowing, but quickly forgotten when it stops. Like a toothache, the worse it is the better you feel when it’s over.

The wind did stop. No fear and loathing at three in the morning. No more branches dropping on the lawn. No windows rattling. I felt something like the Liberal caucus after the leader was dumped. Apprehensive, but hopeful. Then day broke and the sun shone. Like a federal Conservative, I stepped out the back door far enough to feel which way the wind was blowing. It wasn’t. Great, I thought, that wasn’t so bad.

I cooked up a good breakfast of fried potatoes, fried sausages, fried eggs and Heinz baked beans. With toast and strawberry jam. And Planet Bean coffee. There’s nothing like it to get the day moving. This isn’t like a proper Scottish breakfast. They fry the eggs in last week’s bacon grease and toss in a sizable chunk of blood pudding. There’s sound logic to this. The Scots start their day secure in the confidence that it doesn’t matter what happens next. No one can treat them worse than they just treated themselves.

They say everyone has to believe in something, and I believe in breakfast. A full plate on a Sunday morning is tough to beat. It gives you the strength to carry on. The resolve to get things done. So I did.

By early afternoon, Lynne and I were ready for a good walk. It wasn’t the vigorous, heart pumping walk of the aerobic enthusiast. It was a purposeful stroll up one street and down another. Through a park. Down a hill, leaving us with the need to go up another to get back to where we were.

This is where we felt like the New Democrats. We members are well used to it by now. It’s how our caucus members must have felt after the coalition fell apart. That was when they played the role of the anxious groom who couldn’t get to the altar quickly enough. They waited around until it became obvious the blushing bride had backed out. Pushed down a hill, they are still climbing back to where they were.

Lynne and I made it up our hill just fine. We stopped to talk with friends who were out doing yard work. One could point with pride to the several flowers already in bloom, and called them all by name. I am always impressed by someone who can tell the difference between a crocus and a snowdrop. I usually group them as yellow ones and purple ones.

All that yard work inspired me. When we got home, I thought I should tidy up the outside a bit. I gathered the shovels and put them in the shed. I carried the bucket of ice melt into the basement. I had my supper. I watched some television. I checked my e-mail. I read my library book. I went to sleep.

We all know what we woke up to the next morning.

Sorry.