Friday, March 5, 2010

Summer....


Fricking snow again. I knew it was just too good to be true. As I think I may have said in an earlier post, the northern European in me still expects winter to be done in March and despite twelve years here, I still haven't recalibrated that part of my brain. Seeing the snow melt last week and running in a peaked hat, not a toque, well I still tried to convince myself it wasn't happening and the worst would be back. Yet deep down I think I had allowed myself to imagine it wouldn't. It's only the second Sunday in Lent, plenty of time for another late season snowpocalypse (apologies to meterologists). Remember the white Easter we had a few years back? The epic 2004 Moose? Who would care to bet it can't happen again? So even though it didn't snow nearly as much as they thought, it's still snow and windy and dreary and generally weather even the most confirmed cynophobe wouldn't put a dog out in.

I never thought I'd say this, but -20 is preferable to this. At least -20 is "honest", there's no mucking about at that temperature. Just wear everything. Sure, you may have a crack a zip open after ten miles or so but -20 at least demands sartorial respect. We perhaps get a touch
blasé and think "-1? M'eh". You flirt with caps, not touques, vest not jacket, liner-gloves instead of full-on Shackleton specials, only to be disappointed that it's really not that warm after all.

So dreaming of summer, or spring, or autumn for that matter (anything but winter) could conceivably make one think of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, and I mention this because the British broadsheet The Gruaniad recently put up links for three Youtube clips of Summer in honour of Vivaldi's 332nd birthday, and I put a couple here where they awaken the 16 year old lad still buried deep inside of me somewhere;




Has your inner teenager come out yet? These two guys below go by the possibly unlikely name of "Children of Bodom", by which we have to assume they were spawned by a French Press. I know I'm not much of a coffeophile (I'll still drink a Timmies if offered/if available/if desperate) but I'm not sure that this is what you usually get when you use a cafetiere. Well, OK, I don't get classical-music playing axe-heroes when I hit the plunger but that's not to say I'm not using it right.



Once more, rock on...

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