Snow banks melting

Hi,

It's been the most amazingly wonderful day here.
Suzanne and I went to Yorkdale for a mall walk.
It's the last official day off for March Break, and
the parking lot was packed. Teenagers in love strolled through the mall wearing exotic mixtures of clothing, and we walked loop after loop through the shopping center trying to get our 10,000 steps. It was so hot out that on the way back to the car we abandoned our thin jackets and rolled up our sleeves. Then we heard on the radio that it
was just 5 Celsius, and we laughed at how summery it felt.

I urged Steven to photograph me on top of Mount Cherrywood, our own personal snow mountain, because if the weather stays warm, this stuff is gone. It's already down by about a foot today.

After a whole winter, of what seemed like snow every day, that will be strange indeed. I planted the Canadian
flag on top of the mountain, and climbed back down.
The workers creating a much larger version of our little
summit, beside the Allen, have planted a flag at the top, about 75 feet up.
That pile covers at least an acre of land, and probably more. I can't
imagine how much water will flood the highway when that structure
melts. And there are similar mountains all over the city.

Have a springy day.

School of recovery

I was back at school today. Getting out of the driveway
between the high, high, high snowbanks was problematic.
Sam came out in his favorite white, slip-on, fake leather
sneakers and bare feet to dig me out of a deep bank when I
got stuck. Back home now after a very long, but fulfilling day,
I'm going to put the painting aside for the night, to give
my family some attention and mark some papers. This is me trying to snuggle Fiona and Steven at the same time. The photo is so bizarre that it's almost art. With all that snow you might get
tempted to drown yourself in fries. If you need another cooking blog to keep the munchies in the realm of the virtual(other than the fabulous one listed at the bottom of my blog) try this one: http://smittenkitchen.com/

Have an affectionate day.

The view from here

Hi,

here's the view out my window where I write to you. It's from a
day without snow. Not today. Snow like snow is all there is.
Tomorrow is the show, so I'm closing shop. This could be called
the art of sleep. I've been painting all day, so I'm going to try it out.

Have brainstorming day.

Snow again

Once again it's snowing. It's become a wry joke here --"Oh--what do you know -- it's snowing!" Exhausted chuckle all round, and then back to the shovels, or snowblowers.

Here's a picture I took the other day, of an abandoned bike. Ironically the high icy snowbank imprisoning the bike is in front of a luxurious wall of Ivy.
It reminds me of one winter semester when I was going to the University of Guelph that I decided to live in the country. I rented a farm with five guys just outside of town. The plan was pitched, I remember as a romantic, Utopian idyll -- back to nature. The guys resembled the men in the movie Knocked Up, only not quite as funny -- a collection of lonely, nerdy guys. Entertainment -- none.
The bedroom I slept in had a thick layer of living cluster flies sandwiched between the ceiling drywall and the rafters. The only heat came from a kerosene heater in the living room, which smelled and smoked. The snow plough failed to arrive on time to clear the long, picturesque lane every other day when we were all trying to get to class, and I was the only cook -- and not a good one. After about a month of freezing to the hum of an orchestra of one million flies, I fled the farm, with a clear resolve never to return.

Say what you want about the city. I do. Complain about city drivers. I do. But I would much rather spend the winter in this town, than down any country lane.

Have a cozy day wherever you are.