This is how the weekend sighs to a close.

I sit at the dining room table; the bright pastels of the table cloth beginning to soften as the sun lowers in the sky. I stare distantly across to the kitchen and watch the shadows dance across the pictures on the fridge in the failing light. My coffee has grown cold on the counter. Forgotten in mid-sip as something more pressing made it's presence known. The Gin Blossoms are on the radio. I have a pure moment of nostalgia and it makes me smile.

This is how the weekend sighs to a close.

I hear a bird sing high up in the tree; triumphantly challenging Mother Nature to throw one more fierce wintery blast its way. It is resolved in believing Spring is finally here. The sounds I hear out my back window would truly lead one to believe it is back. A dog barks a block away, announcing to all that this is his square of sidewalk and all passers-by must pay heed.

The house is quiet. The normal stomping of little feet and mad rush of animals; tails, fur and toys-----all are silent. The day has quieted them all away to various corners of the house where they lay curled up on beds and couches, lazily dreaming out the rest of the day.

I hear children playing games in the distance. They will undoubtly fight the inevitable dusk with every last ounce of wonder they can muster. But the time will come. The lights will yawn awake and the shadows will lurk back into our world. Sounds will dim as the smell of any number of wonderful meals draws these young adventerers back to familiar doorsteps and into the welcome warmth of a home.

The sun has burned its eternal ark across the sky; chasing its long lost love in the futile hope that their paths will cross if for only a few fleeting minutes. The constant chase that measures out our time on this blue marble.

A harmonica plays on the radio and I'm brought back to The Beatles. I can think of worse ways to end this perfect day.

This is how the weekend sighs to a close.

I totally caught that snowflake on my tongue

Dear Old Man Winter,

  when did you officially start sucking?  I mean really?  At what stage in my life did I stop looking at you with fond wonderment and slight amazement and start looking at you like a blight on my life?  When was it that you started making my bones ache and my skin crack?

I look back on our time together as a child and I think of all the good times we had.  Remember that one time when you and I built that huge snow fort in front of the house?  It had tunnels and small windows for whipping snow balls at the enemy.  Man......we must've hung out in that thing for hours.  It had to have been hours 'cause I remember digging out a 'whiz hole' so we could take a leak out the side without ever breaking cover.  Nobody could find us in there....at least as long as they didn't track us back to that patch of yellow snow.

I remember snow days.  No, not just snow days but "You can't go outside because your eyeballs will literally freeze in their sockets" kind of snow day.  Those were the days that the car refused to start.  I can remember my Dad sitting behind the frosty wheel of the old Buick silently cursing you under his breath....the car sputtering and coughing; refusing to turn over.  I knew that if that old beast of a vehicle wouldn't come to life, then there was no chance I would be turned out into the cold to walk to school.  Thank you for that.

I remember snowball fights, and snow angels and finding the biggest snow bank I could possibly find and flipping off it head first into piles of soft, cushiony snow.  Growing up in the North, you really were a good friend.  After all, we really did spend a lot of time together.

But as I grew older, something changed between you and I.    While there were days that I enjoyed hanging out with you, I found that you started becoming more of an inconvenience and annoying more than anything else.  Like a dinner guest that just hasn't quite taken the hint that it's time to go....even as the host is standing there in their pyjamas looking longingly at the clock.



I'm totally kickin' your ass Winter!

 I think things really started to get awkward for us when you stopped helping me and started acting more as a hindrance.  Like that time you dropped 20+ centimetres on us and you brought along a huge dose of freezing rain for good measure?  Ya....pretty impressive.  Except you did this the day I had a major meeting at work and I was hours late for it.  Not cool dude.  In fact, that was pretty downright 'douchee'.

You see....I grew up.  You didn't.  My priorities shifted....yours didn't.  I guess to some extent I should've seen it coming.  I mean, over the years you've always been into the same things.  Every year it was all about cold and snow and sleet and freezing rain.  Sure you'd mix it up every now and then with a good ol' dose of frostbite.  But c'mon man.  Things got real boring real quick.  Our visits eventually always followed the same routine.
Me: "Hey Winter!  How have you been?  It's been about a year since we last talked."
You: "Hey dude!  Ya things have been awesome man!  You know.  Freezing people out.  Making cars slide into ditches....totally cool stuff."
Me: "Huh.  Isn't that what you did last time we talked?  And the year before that?"
You: "Well ya.  It's kind of my thing."

.............and so on and so forth for the rest of time........



Fat Kid + Momentum+ Slippery Hill=AWESOME!!!



Look, I'll admit that I still enjoy your company every now and then.  Summer's awesome to lounge around with and all.  But somedays, you just really need to jump on a crazy carpet and fly down a snowy hill at breakneck speeds.  Truth be told, I can't do that with the rest of your family.  So there's that I guess.

I hate the fact that you make me buy snow tires, and add more driving time to my commute and cause my gas bill to go up.  I hate that you freeze snot to my mustache and cause my lungs to burn when I walk outside in the morning.  It's not cool that you make me chisel my car out of a block of ice or break my back having to shovel tons of snow out of my driveway.

But I will admit that I still giggle like a little school girl when I catch that perfect snowflake on my tongue (I totally caught that snowflake on my tongue).  I still love the way my heart races when I jump on a toboggan and power slide down a huge hill.  And that bully inside of me still gets a kick when I land that perfect snowball across someone's face!  Especially when it's my kids.  Shhhh.....don't tell the wife.

Maybe we'll never get back what we once had.  I'm willing to accept that.  I willing to accept that we may need to change the rules of our relationship so that we're not at odds for the rest of my life.  I know I left your completely for 4 years.  California offered me an escape from you and your abusive tendencies but I came back.  I always come back.

Contrary to popular belief...I didn't have a gun to my head when choosing to leave this behind.

So let's do this right.  I don't like you anymore on a personal level but I respect you on a professional level.  My recommendation is as follows:

1. We will have contact with one another during the months of November through March.  Any correspondence outside of that range will result in cursing and swearing and shaking my fist at the sky.
2. You will give these dunder-head weathermen ample warning before you drop ass on us.  These guys seem to have trouble tying their own shoes most days let along predicting the weather.  They might as well "Consult the bones" rather than watching the Doppler radar.  It'd probably more accurate.
3. You'll keep your tantrums down to no more than 5 over the course of the season.  I don't mind an occasional flurry here or there....but 30+ centimetres and 6 feet of sleet and ice don't cut it anymore.

These are my terms.  You will accept them.   Only in doing so will you suck less and regain some of that wonder and amazement you lost when you refused to grow up along with me.  If our friendship meant anything to you.....you'll take those next steps to make amends.

I'm not crying....I'm sweating tears from my eyeballs.

Sincerely,

The Can-eh-dian Kid.