But that didn’t stop your intrepid Vancouverites from hitting Bright Nights and the Christmas Train at Stanley Park.
Even if we got completely soaking wet and I had to wear my old-school GoreTex and BRRR…
It’s worth it.
And we saw a couple other strange things, too…
Um.
It SNOWED.
Okay, well, it snowed other nearby places earlier this week, but finally?
I SAW SNOW.
ON MY OWN DECK.
ON MY OWN STREET.
And a lot of other places, really. Which is nothing short of AWESOME.
I’m not sure the rest of my fellow Vancouverites feel the same way, after witnessing a few grim looks (and vehicular near-fatalities) while out and about today.
Vancouver has a complex relationship with snow.
We don’t get it too often, because our temperatures don’t generally drop below 0 C. I mean, yes… we’ve had our freak storms and bizarre drops and icy outflows and blizzards, but they are infrequent, to say the least.
So infrequent, in fact, that we speak of snowfalls by YEAR, not by date or season.
That’s why, when it actually happens, we’re either totally excited… or totally beside ourselves.
I’ve put together a little “Who’s Who” of snowed-upon West Coasters to illustrate my point further:
The Lifelong Vancouverite Who Will Never Leave
Wearing: Raincoat, in firm belief the snow will turn into rain soon. Sketchy gloves from 1987. Shoes made to hold out water, not gain traction. Confused expression.
Driving: Erratically. Refused to get all-weather (read: snow) tires on SUV, because WHEN DOES IT SNOW HERE? Experiences radical road rage at everything from child on sidewalk to bus driver to own family in car. Listening to all-news station waiting for reports that the rain has started SOMEWHERE, FOR THE LOVE.
Heard remarking: “Is it raining yet?”
***
The Lifelong Vancouverite Who Pines For Seasons
Wearing: Giant parka purchased during cruise to Alaska in 1988. Expression of complete joy.
Driving: With expression of false confidence. Does donut to avoid hitting squirrel. Pulls out ice scraper with glee every time he gets back in car, though there never was any ice on his car.
Heard remarking: “Man, this is nothing. I don’t know what those folks on the Prairies are talking about. This is a piece of cake!” (shortly before falling on ass in entryway to Whole Foods)
***
Vancouverite Who Moved from the Prairies or Ontario ON PURPOSE
Wearing: Hooded sweatshirt, flip flops, expression of feigned ignorance. What? This won’t last. This is nothing. Seriously, it won’t last, will it?
Driving: Just fine. It’s like riding a bike. Sigh. Deftly avoiding actual Vancouverites.
Heard remarking: “Honestly. It won’t last. It never does. I’m from Swift Current. You don’t KNOW snow.”
***
Vancouverite Prairie/Ontario Transplant Missing Home
Wearing: Down coat, scarf knitted by Grandma Penner, cellphone stuck to ear calling mom in Winnipeg, starry-eyed expression skyward.
Driving: On very expensive, very optimistic snow tires. Just in case. Dad said he’d pay for them.
Heard remarking:“I don’t know. Maybe I COULD find the money to come home at Christmas…”
***
Vancouverite Child
Wearing: Giant puffy jacket just purchased at Old Navy, ridiculous fleece hat sewed by quirky Aunt (never previously worn), rainboots and three pairs of socks.
Driving: … their parents insane.
Heard remarking: “When can we go out? Is there enough for a snowman? I can’t use a baby carrot for the nose! Is school canceled yet? Can I go outside before bed?”
Heard remarking tearfully, two hours later: “Mommy, why is it raaaaaining?”
***
Vancouver Tourist From Much Warmer Place
Wearing: Coat purchased from hotel boutique, umbrella, inappropriately heeled shoes, camera around neck to document that YES, I KNEW IT, THERE WOULD BE IGLOOS!
Driving: No driving. Tour bus.
Heard remarking: “When do the penguins come out?”
***
Meg
Wearing: Puffy coat, pashmina, Uggs, aura of total joy.
Driving: … her stomach into oblivion with Gingerbread Lattes on endless snowy walks.
Heard remarking: ‘AAAAAUGH! #$%@!” (while falling down steps) Then: “No! I’m okay! Seriously!”
***
I have to tell you… we don’t do snow like anywhere else on earth.
But here’s to the white stuff until Monday, when the forecast calls for “Rain, heavy at times.”
Sigh.
Well, hello there!
My body continues to fall apart rather charmingly, but I’ve decided to say FINITO! to complaining about it or dwelling on the fact that my $#%@stomach@#$&$knee@#*&$lungs@#&$head hurts.
Pain is a part of life, right? If we never hurt, we’d never know the sweet relief when that hurt passes away.
Yeeeeah. Uh huh.
But enough of the whining. Moving along.
Today is a glooooooriously sunny day.
And when I say gloooooriously, I like to use a different amount of ‘o’s every time.
I love it when Vancouver spends a few days being crisp and cool like my home of yesteryear, the Canadian Prairie.
(Cue noble, sweeping music and an aerial shot of snowy fields…)
Now, when I say that I lived on the Prairie, it sounds like I was all Laura Ingalls Wilder in a dugout in the middle of nowhere, when really, I lived in actual towns and cities. With running water and electricity and nary a wall constructed from sod. And cable. But no internet, since there was no internet yet. At least not an internet for everyone. It was just for geeks back then.
Mmm, geeks.
I’m getting off track here.
Clear and cold weather is my favourite kind of weather, in a near tie with clear and warm weather, which is kind of ironic, since I live in the Clouds (I’m enjoying capitalization today!)
The Clouds have lifted for now, though. I celebrated the Lifting (see?) with a Peppermint Mocha (now it’s just getting out of hand) which thrills me with After Eightish deliciousness (why is there a Wikipedia entry about mints?)
I’m also thinking about all things Christmassy, including the Christmas Train (I HAVE TO GO THIS YEAR, DAMMIT) and my work Christmas party (I’m trying to think up something to wear. I’m not big on buying some spectacular new dress, since all the rest of my holiday parties are of the jeans-heels-pretty shirt-giant earrings variety, rather than the cocktail variety. You feel me? Okay, maybe you don’t, but any suggestions for how to work up the same black, v-neck, mildly cleavage-y, sleeveless, knee length little black dress? I’m thinking a cute red wrap and some heels and an ostentatious piece of jewelery… and also thinking this is much too long for a parenthetical remark.)
If I could be doing ANYTHING today, I’d be on a sleigh ride somewhere snowy, wrapped in blankets and all cozed in behind horses puffing steam out of their noses. HOW AWESOME WOULD THAT BE? I love that stuff.
The last “ride” I was on was on a cardboard box behind my grandfather’s LeBaron on country roads outside of Devon, AB. He attached it to the car with luggage straps and whee! we were on our way.
To this day, I have no idea why my mother was okay with this. I mean, one sudden brake and I’d have been one with the undercarriage of his car. But I think he was careful. Maybe? A little?
At least until he threw me off the box into a ditch full of brambles on a sharp turn. Did I mention I was six? Yeah.
My parents were watching from the front window of my grandparents’ home and were ready to run out and get me, but then they saw my little snowsuited body emerge from the ditch, running at a full clip. My grandfather spotted me in his rearview and slowed down (how kind!), at which point I hopped back on the box and rode for another half hour. Awesome.
Well, awesome until I walked into the house and the hot air hit my scratched-up, frozen little face. Then I was a scene from Carrie (I was going to link to an image there, but EW. EW.)
Really, I’ve always been this way.
I was putting together a Holiday Online Shopping Guide for my blog, since I am the shopping link queen on Facebook, but then it occurred to me that EVERYONE ELSE WAS DOING THAT, TOO. Meh. We’d probably all end up linking to the same things, right? And I don’t shop much online… I just BROWSE LIKE A PRO.
But if you want some holiday shopping links, I’ll post them later today.
This mocha is still awesome.
Love to all!
In the past two days, I’ve suddenly become all passionate about doing the following:
Trying three new recipes per week and getting GOOD knives
Learning about spices
Singing every day
Buying a sketchbook and… um… sketching
Planning out my wardrobe (and wardrobe purchases) so I don’t appear to have chosen my outfits in the dark
Stretching in the mornings
Getting regular massages or something that will make me walk in a less tinman-esque fashion
Learning about colour harmony and contrast in decor so I can make smart decisions about purchases
Paying more than $20 for a pair of sunglasses so I don’t look like an owl
Any suggestions for me on any of these goals?
I don’t know about you, but when I think of things that are fun to do at 4:30 in the morning, sitting in an ambulance wearing only a quilt and woolly boots is right up there.
Well, and pajamas, yes, but no one was going to see THOSE.
We woke early this morning to our fire alarm having a hissy fit and the distinct, cringe-worthy smell of smoke.
After checking to make sure that we weren’t the ones that set everything off (did we leave the cider on? The tree plugged in? are we running a meth lab?), we grabbed something to cover ourselves and ran out to the front porch, where we met our neighbours and their baby. Catherine called 911 and within another couple moments, our downstairs neighbour had joined us, too.
Fully clothed, mind you. With his laptop bag. Smart guy.
I started thinking of all the things I should go in and grab, but then we heard the sirens.
Lots of sirens.
And then they arrived.
Four police cars with eight police folks.
One ambulance with two paramedics.
Two fire engines with at least nine firemen.
My goodness.
Gorgeousness all around, and me looking like an ottoman with a bad slipcover. Ole!
They looked a bit hesitant to go in the house (given the uncertain origin of the smoke) but in a few moments, they were tromping about on all levels.
And instead of worrying about the place burning into oblivion, I was asking myself sage questions like:
Do I have bad breath?
Did I leave underwear on the floor?
How does one accentuate one’s figure with a blanket?
Sigh. Shameful.
They finally loaded us into the ambulance (since the temperature was well into the single digits) and so we (Dean, Karen, baby Presley, Catherine and I) sat and laughed at the fact that Karen had remembered to snag her most expensive purse after taking care of her most important concern (Presley, naturally.)
Oh, and we had to mock my attire. Because I was rocking a look I swore I’d never even try.
Uggs with bare legs.
So how does the story end?
They let us back into our apartment after divining that our furnace motor was on fire (!!!) and pumping smoke through the house. It ceased to be a problem once the furnace was turned off. So we’ll be chilly for a couple of days if our landlord doesn’t get it fixed up soon.
Dean and Karen went off to Starbucks (that baby was UP) and brought me a latte.
I was a half-hour early for work.
I’m frickin’ tired.
And how are you?
WHY IS THIS PHOTO SHOWING UP ON IMAGE SEARCHES FOR SAN DIEGO?
I totally plan to do that when we’re there.
Tomorrow evening, we’re dancing off into a Californian sunset, and I cannot TELL you how EXCITING this is.
Dry air. Sunshine. Beaches. Palm trees. Peet’s coffee. A new shift key for my iBook at a Genius Bar.
MAGIC, I say. MAGIC.
But before this can happen, I have to:
Finish a ton of work
Do something to my hair to fix it
Answer 89,000 emails
Do my laundry
Pack my suitcase and carry-on
Clean my house
Run errands
Pay bills
WHEW.
I’m a tad scatterish.
If you have any:
packing advice
news on international flying regulation changes
haiku about busyness
questions for the universe
lottery windfalls to share
… just let me know!
Back at it!
I think you had to be there.
This weekend was my dear friend Jennifer’s 30th birthday.
She’s just a wee chick! A lamb! A sassy young thing!
And that’s why all her girls celebrated her in style with a trip up to her family cabin for the night.
Woo!
I took some pictures with my phone. And since I don’t have a camera, they’ll have to do, won’t they?
The adventure began with the trip up on two boats, both of which took us through a rainstorm, some large swells, and a handful of serious wind gusts. Yikes!
Here’s what I could see from the back of the boat:
And here’s Jenn enjoying the ride:
Nice shades, girlfriend.
Now, let me tell you.
Jenn’s cabin? So lovely.
I’ve actually known her husband’s family longer than I’ve known Jenn herself, so I’ve been there quite a few times. But the place recently underwent a renovation and it’s gorgeous. Just like Jenn, of course.
Here’s a few views from the deck:
And here’s a view OF the deck:
Are those chairs not perfect?
We had a great time, believe me. We played ridiculous games, discussed inappropriate things, and ate a LOT of munchies. Whoa, did we eat. My homemade salsa and guacamole, samosas, wings, quiches, potato salad, and MUCH, MUCH MORE.
We also went skinny dipping at midnight (sorry, Dad.)
Now, before I tell you what happened to me, I should tell you that I injured myself earlier in the day by tumbling in the boat. My knee, more specifically.
Because I am a PARAGON OF GRACE.
Anyway, back to moonlight swimming.
The phosphorescence was BEAUTIFUL, the water was cool but lovely, and we all had a great time trying not to wake the neighbours. Unfortunately, when we went to climb out, I realized the ladder was missing all but the top rungs.
Trying to pull myself up with a bad knee was impossible. I simply couldn’t do it. So I tried swinging my leg onto the dock to hoist myself up.
OW.
No dice. I’d pretty much rather have been shot out of a cannon than feel that particular “twinge” of pain again.
So I had to get creative.
Once everyone else was safely out of eye view, I swam over to the rocks, and climbed stealthily (if dragging one’s leg and going “OUCH. OH. CRAP. OUCH. @$#%!” can be considered stealth) up out of the ocean over millions of barnacles and mussels.
OW.
Yeah.
Scratches where there shouldn’t be any.
(I can’t imagine it was pleasant for the barnacles, either.)
Then I realized I couldn’t actually get from the rocks to the boardwalk up to the lower deck of the cabin. I was stranded by a three-foot divide full of heinous-looking brambles.
So I did what any self-respecting naked person would do in the dead of night.
I swung from a tree and flung myself onto the boardwalk railing.
OW.
Thank heavens I only had one bad knee, or I surely would have bounced back to “commune” with the brambles.
Instead, I squeezed in between the railings, terribly impressed at my Jennifer Garner-like agility, and landed with a thump on the boardwalk (with a string of Christmas bulbs wrapped jauntily around my ankle.)
Then all the motion sensor lights came on like I’d tried to escape from Guantanamo Bay.
The jig was up, friends.
And suddenly the towel Laura had left me there seemed so very small.
Sigh.
But.
I dried off, we all laughed, and I could still get around with a limp. Cue more silly games and eating.
There was so much food and fun that by the time Sunday morning rolled around, we were pretty much ready for a whole other day of napping:
But… we had to go home.
That was a good trip, too:
And I looked terribly foxy after a swim the night before, sleeping on wet hair, not showering, skipping the aid of makeup or hairstyling, and riding in a fast boat:
With continued sketchiness once we got on the ferry:
That, my friends? Is Tired Meg.
Super Tired Meg. Tired Meg with Extra Flavour.
Also? I have no apparent neck.
Anyway.
Jennifer, we all love you, and we were so honoured and blessed to be there with you to celebrate this milestone. You’re an incredible woman, an incredible friend, an incredible wife, and an incredible mom.
Honestly, there’s not much Jenn can’t do. I think taking a compliment might be her only skill deficiency.
Ha!
Happy Birthday, you!
And many, many more.
(At the cabin.)
(With us.)
I’m hanging out with my parents tonight. Yay!
Here’s where I’ll be sleeping:
SO COMFY.
(And don’t you like my purse? Thanks!)
But that’s not really the point.
My dad was in dire need of a visit. I HAD to come. I mean, look:
I know. Seriously.
My mom and I made dinner together while he contorted in the other room (in front of the Seahawks in high-def.)
I contributed the salsa and the guacamole (which I had to make more smooshy than usual, due to the firmness of the organic avocados):
My dad ate all the good stuff and then left the salsa (lime) juice.
Dad!
AND he got all up in the guac.
See?
But we kept cooking while he ate.
My mom made an amazing filling for the (pretend) enchiladas by roasting pork, shredding it into a marinade of lime juice (which she left overnight), and then cooking it with chile’d beans the next day until it reduced into soft deliciousness:
SO good.
Then we rolled it into tortillas and baked it with a little cheese and sour cream:
Please note: a) I had to take a bite before I took a picture; and b) I had forgotten to put my napkin on my lap. Classy!
It was very, very good.
And a lot of food.
Certainly enough food that I should not have found myself in the Dairy Queen drive-through with my mom two hours later.
But that’s how we roll(ed).
I love my parents. And also?
My earrings:
Ah, weekends.
