Snow is a beautiful misery.
If you’re a kid, it’s literally a gift from the heavens. Do you remember listening to the radio for the list of school closures and exulting when your school’s name was called? Let’s say, however, you’re an adult scheduled to appear in traffic court. Waking up to snow can be a nightmare. There are so many questions to be sorted out before you embark on that polar expedition. Will you make the perilous journey only to find court’s cancelled due to snow?
Snow is a beautiful misery.
Snow days are entirely subjective.
I’ve had some run-ins with snow before, and each time, I’ve been reminded that weather is a fearsome adversary.
A view of the world-famous cable cars that go to the top of Grouse Mountain in Vancouver, BC.
About a million years ago, I was night skiing on Grouse Mountain. The conditions had been lousy but I was on a date with a guy I quite fancied so weather was the least of my concerns. Being highschool students, we were convinced of our general invincibility and therefore unperturbed about the blizzard conditions that were developing. We grumbled about the long lineups of people waiting to download on the trams to the base of the mountain. Announcements were soon made that winds were making downloads precarious so the lift operators were going to take only half loads. Shortly after that announcement, the decision was made that it was too dangerous to operate the gondolas, at all. We would all, it was declared, be staying overnight in the Grouse Nest.
… the blizzard conditions that were developing.
Now, this sounded like a thrilling adventure. Except it wasn’t. The Grouse Nest ran out of everything. There was nothing to eat. There was very little heat. What was worse? They ran out of toilet paper. The glamorous serendipity was quickly eroded by the reality of hundreds of wet, hungry people with nowhere to sleep.
I experienced something similar at the Toronto Pearson International Airport. I was travelling with both my kids from New York to Vancouver. Foul weather was threatening to close the airport so I was thrilled when our flight was the last one to make it out of La Guardia. Little did I know, but we were about to be hurled into the middle of the history-making January 1998 North American Ice Storm.
… the history-making January 1998 North American Ice Storm.
We landed in Toronto only to find the airport was essentially abandoned. Everything was shuttered. There were no airline or airport personnel to be found anywhere. The kids and I hunkered down using our coats for makeshift beds. While the kids slept, I marvelled at just how very many rats lived at the Toronto Pearson International Airport.
If you’ve ever skied with kids, you know, sure as shooting, that one of them’s going to drop a mitten or lose a ski pole or forget a toque. This is exactly what came to pass on one of our ski trips to Whistler.
On the trip up to the top of a hill, my then six year-old son dropped one of his mittens from the lift. Conditions were deteriorating and I think I downloaded us all to the bottom of this very short kiddy run and then told him and his older sister to stay put while I went back up to reclaim the mitt. I explained what I was doing to the lift operator.
Here’s where it gets interesting. There was no one else in the line-up. I get on the lift. I’m mid-way to the top and … they … shut … it … down. Dead stop. I’m surrounded by perfect white-out conditions – no visibility at all. I. Am. Hollering.
About ten minutes of bouncing in the cold wind the lift resumes operating. I ski down the vacant slope, seizing the errant mitten as I go. I get to the bottom and … no kids. They’re not to be found anywhere. Frantically, I ask around. No information. Did I mention the word frantic?
After a long while, I discover that the kids have been shepherded into a distant lift operators’ station but no one mentions that. I was nearly hysterical by the time I found them. And yes, I know: lots of lessons for mom in this one.
So, when people start gleefully exclaiming,
“Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!”
I answer back:
“Elsewhere”.
This week’s question for readers:
WHAT’S YOUR BEST AND/OR WORST SNOW DAY MEMORY?
Leave your Comments below!
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Submissions to last week’s question:
WHAT DO YOU COLLECT? HAS YOUR COLLECTION OVERTAKEN YOU?
Collectors are curious souls – we find interesting items and research and learn about them and suddenly a collection is born. I’m lucky in my job to have seen a variety of collections – the best are those that grow – as you learn more, you expand. Some keep those first pieces collected and others move them on as they buy new pieces. I have many interests and therefore many various collections including teddy bears, but only unloved ones without homes and often in need of repair.
Jeanette Langmann
I have always been a collector of something but over the last 15 years I have been collecting glass and porcelain electrical insulators! There are so many shapes, sizes and colours of these once hard working artifacts and I have them artfully grouped on shelves around my house. The hunt for these objects have taken my husband and I into many wonderful antique and thrift shops in any town that we find ourselves driving through and therefore each one has a story behind its discovery! It’s really fun to have something to search for!
Tracey McLennan
In 1970, before a cross-country move, I received a Birk’s silver candle snuffer. A year later, an identical one in pewter. The dilemma: “What to do with two snuffers?” My sister’s advice: “Collect them! A perfect reason to explore antique stores and gift shops. A highly portable keepsake!” Now, 53 years on, my grandmother’s circa 1890 brass snuffer holds a special place. The collection expanded from an Alice in Wonderland porcelain to a cherished clay bunny crafted by a talented friend. Snuffers for every occasion – from Halloween ghosts to Christmas trees. The fate of 127 snuffers? My children’s suggestion: “We’ll distribute them at your funeral!” At my age, I hope I have enough people attending to dispense them all!
Rosemary Shumka
Christmas and collecting go hand-in-hand, in my view. Mid-Century Christmas is my interest: greeting cards, Christmas LPs, Santa in many renditions: on postcards, plastic trinkets, a kid’s “Letter to Santa”, ornaments, card box, 1960s photos with the jolly guy.
Each year, my December display brings me joy! And yes, I edit my collection yearly, making room for new treasures.
James Harcott
It started with my first West Highland Terrier in 1986, a lovely figurine with a Westie holding a stick in its mouth. Now my house is awash with 400 figurines (all unique), cushions, fireplace statues, mugs, fridge magnets, pyjamas, purses, stationary, jewellery, phone covers and more. I will go out on a limb and say yes, my Westie collection has overtaken my life.
Patricia Gray
In high school, my dad bought me my first slide rule, which was a necessary tool in the 1960s in the higher grades of math, chemistry and physics. I always thought it was neat that he had the exact same one. This rather inexpensive slide rule saw me through a few years of university.
Years went by and I became fascinated by the slide rules of the past. I remembered looking longingly at the Pickett line of slide rules with their unique yellow (eye saver) coloured scales and slides in school bookstores. They were expensive and I couldn’t afford one. Using the internet, I discovered that Pickett slide rules were available both NIB (new in box) and used. So I bought the first of many. Further researching Pickett slide rules led me to the 6″ Pickett 600. This was the pocket sized slide rule that the Apollo astronauts carried as a backup. I had to have one of those. I found a NIB example that was just perfect.
Terry Edwards
Recently, I have been collecting linens. Soft organic towels, sheets and duvets. Fine tablecloths from France. Cozy, soft cheerful pillows for the sofa and decadent throws. Come spring, I’ll replace the outside patio cushions with something custom and unique. Napkins for dining, tea towels … it’s endless, really, and simple but somehow, gives me joy.
Deborah Jean
It began with my mother’s 1960’s teal luggage – divine. Pottery, pendants, and pillows. My love of turquoise began to expand to teal, aqua, mint and retro green. Spatulas, scarves, and espresso machines. Becoming too expensive, I began an Instagram account to house my continuing obsession. When I see the shade, I snap a photo (a front door, a television scene, a business sign, …) and post, @writingcarys. The colour range is said to support calmness, clarity, and creativity. I smile when friends and family text me a photo with something turquoise-ish, with the note, “Thought of you.”
Carys Cragg
The photo of your beautiful lamps was so enjoyable as my husband and I love things like this. We used to have a few and sold them with the crazy idea of moving to Mexico. 2008’s recession stopped that but boy do I miss some of our beauties.
Glenn and Susan Nicholl
I saved cardboard tubes from empty toilet rolls, and made a canary-yellow pyramid. My young nephew fell in love with my sculpture, so I gave it to him. Then I began collecting balls from the street. These evolved into a beautiful linear arrangement of old lacrosse, ping pong, golf and baseballs. I even fashioned a nerf baseball from bubble wrap and masking tape which I used for indoor pitching practice. It’s now a throne for my wooden doll. He sits and guards the ball collection. My third set of collections consists of sock lint picked from my carpet over the years. I put the lint balls into a pink rock-salt bowl and planted a small dried pink flower. This is my lint garden. I love to transform junk into art.
Leonard F. Tenisci
I collected Mid Century modern everything throughout the 1990’s. Airplane stand with lighted ice cream cone glass, bouquets of plastic flowers, teak furniture, black panthers and a yellow panther with pale yellow fibreglass shade. But my most prized items are the numerous other lamps. A floor lamp with gooseneck motifs on glass shade, double trapezoid shade floor lamp with boomerang wood on pole, crescent moon light with magazine rack and ceramic ashtray, cast gazelle in front of f/g shade, table lamps with bullrushes protruding from metal leaves. All have coloured bulbs to set a warm ambiance, but the bouquet of lighted white plastic tulips is a showstopper!
Wally Henkel