Canadian Winters

I like hot weather. It's a theme that anyone who has read this blog would be well aware of.

Now, I do like snow. I just don't like the fact that snow is cold. My internal thermometer still hasn't reprogrammed itself from my time in Taiwan.

The weekend before last, it snowed. And it was beautiful. Big fluffy snowflakes drifted down from the sky, twinkling like stars in the orange glow of the streetlights. It was peaceful . . .


But so unlike BC. I've been told it never snows here. I left my trusty purple and green sorrels at home in Saskatchewan. As I trudged through snow-laden sidewalks on my way to the bus, I missed those loud boots. The snowbanks kept getting bigger because no one in Vancouver knows how to deal with snow. No one has a snow shovel. No one knows how to drive. (I saw a car - I think an old style Citation - motor down Broadway with chains on the back tires. Slight overkill, I would say. ) When we woke up to a winter wonderland, everyone seemed to be wondering.

I am from Saskatchewan. A few inches of snow is nothing to worry about. I put on some layers and took a bus to Regent. When I arrived, the parking lot was suspiciously empty. The building was suspiciously dark. A sign hung haphazardly on the door. Regent College is closed. It didn't even occur to me that snow would stop school. I am a farmer's child. I go to school even when it is blizzarding outside. I stood a while looking at the sign, somewhat dumbfounded. Then I made my way back to the bus. I ran into a friend, an Ontarian who also laughs in the face of snow. Together, we fled the campus and joked about British Columbians and their incapacity to deal with snow.

I guess the snow should remind me: I do live in Canada.