The Old Postman’s Home

We had a good December.

We had a good January.

We have had one of the coldest Februarys on record. In 1936 we had a colder February, but people were tougher then. Now we are used to central heating, heated car seats and steering wheels, electrically heated socks and underwear and of course hand warmers that can be charged via the USB port on a laptop. Still, I prefer to look out my thermally insulated windows while cupping a hot drink between my two hands. Strangely enough, while I would be in shorts and flip flops in the summer when it is 21°C, during the winter if it is 21°C in the house I dress in layers and can’t find a blanket that covers and warms me at the same time.

I keep telling myself that it will warm up…it will warm up…it will warm up…

Tonight it is -25°C and feels like -40°C with the wind chill. Why did my ancestors choose to live in Canada? I suspect that they were tossed out of the good countries and ended up here. Their first winter must have been a rude awakening. You think that you know what cold is until you experience real cold.

Yes, yes I know that you can dress for the cold and there is a small amount of pride that we can not only function in these bitter temperatures but thrive. I was watching the luge races on TV last weekend which happened to be taking place in Calgary. The announcers were talking about how brittle the ice was and how the racers are not used to these extreme cold conditions. It made me chuckle because I was thinking that at -17°C with the sun shinning Spring couldn’t be that far away.

Granted the racers were wearing skin tight spandex and travelling at close to 200 KPH which would put the wind chill at close to REALLY FUCKING COLD! They are made of tougher stuff than I am and I suppose that they would have been the same kind of people that immigrated to Canada with dreams of a better life. These crazy mofos train for years racing head first down a track with only a very small chance of becoming the best in their field. Crazy!

Well, March has come in like a lion and I hope that the weather will moderate to seasonal norms in the weeks to come and go out like a lamb. At the very least when I am wrapped in a blanket in the Old Postman’s Home I will be able to bore anyone who will listen that I survived that frigid February back in 2019.

https://youtu.be/wkDvqQKGgDA

Goose Turd

Last night I was driving over to my son’s new house to help with painting…again. We are almost finished, but when you have a whole house that needs several coats of paint it is almost like waiting for the season to change. I am looking forward to the house being finished and this cold February to be replaced by a cool march and an almost warm April.

The sun had just set in the west and there was a tangerine colour in the western sky. An airplane was on final approach to YYC and it sliced through the few wispy clouds that were glowing with the last rays of the dying day. I noticed a flock of geese arrowing to the southwest, passing under the airplane and those wispy clouds, it was a magical sight. Too bad I didn’t have a camera with me or the inclination to get my phone out to take the picture. I am kind of afraid of getting a distracted driving ticket and I don’t think the cop would understand that I wasn’t making a phone call but attempting to catch a magical moment.

I couldn’t help but wonder about those geese. We are at the end of February and they have toughed winter out so far without heading south so I doubt they were making a late start. Besides, I saw another flock heading in the opposite direction a half hour earlier and wondered where they were headed. I doubt that either flock will drop in to let me know where or what they are up to. As I mentioned, it was dusk so they couldn’t have been heading to any place that was a long way away. You would think that they would be huddled beside some frozen pond fluffing their feathers and wondering if tonight the coyotes would make them the entrée on tonight’s menu.

Personally, I don’t understand why so many geese are still around Calgary and not cavorting down in Florida or Georgia. If they fly that far, why not go to Mexico, the WALL wouldn’t bother a goose at all. I can appreciate that geese can be lazy just like humans can. I’d like to think that if I were homeless and sheltering near a frozen pond and had large wings I would use those wings to make my way to a warmer land. Hell, I doubt I would ever come back this way, why waste the energy? There must be fields full of good food down south for geese. Perhaps they have just forgotten that they are supposed to fly south or maybe they somehow got on the goose no fly list and aren’t allowed over the border.

They are pretty to look at when they are flying overhead honking while I am leaning on my snow shovel wondering just how long it will be until spring. I guess I should be thankful that I have reason to look up into the sky and that I have never been hit by a goose turd.

Interesting or not, no one seems to have the definitive answer on whether geese can shit while flying. I have no desire to personally find out the answer, but if anyone knows please let me know.