Thanks for: Sunglasses and Scarves

Dear Snowy Sunshine,

The clouds have parted. Finally the sun is back. I’d forgotten what it looked like as the clouds of destiny took over the sky and dropped buckets of white stuff upon the earth. Everywhere. So much snow shoveling. Great exercise but oh so cold and stuck under a dreary grey sky.

But the sun is back, shining it’s shine.

But the cold and the snow are still here.

As such, I find myself in the uncommon position of wearing a winter coat, boats, scarf, TARDIS toque, mittens, gloves under mittens, and sunglasses. I’m so thankful for the dichotomy. What are you doing sunglasses? You are a summer attire option but I’m wearing you in February.

Being brilliant, that’s what you’re doing. I thought summer was sunny but seeing the sun reflect off the white snow is blinding. The world just went through some kind of filter that makes you squint because everything is so overexposed. But there you are sunglasses, restoring my capacity to see and bringing a little bit of summer to the winter.

The fact that I’m simultaneously wearing sunglasses and normal glasses should not be mentioned.

Thanks,
Aria

Thanks For: Winter Slip N Slides

Dear Giant Icy Hill of Death,

I used to be convinced that the river was going to overflow, flooding the city, and only those of us who lived on the hill would be safe. I was thankful for you hill. Now, I have a car, it’s winter, and I’m a little less thankful and a little more ‘WHEEEEEEE!”

That’s a whee of “wheeee are all going to die because this hill is large and covered in ice and there are three stoplights that require attempted stopping on the Giant Hill of Icy Death plus a bridge at the end! With water! And Ice! And rapids! And a big ol’ dam!”. Guess who can actually stop on the Giant Icy Hill of Death? No-one. It’s one giant slip n slide. Not that snow sliding isn’t fun, I just prefer it to be on a toboggan. Or skis. Or snowboard. Or really anything not a car, I’m Canadian, ice is part of life.

But here comes the thanks people who live on the Giant Icy Hill of Death, those of us who are stuck on the ‘wrong’ side of the river’, we’ve become fabulous now drivers simply by necessity.

Everyone slides all over the place on that hill. Everytime. You see fishtails everywhere. Going up and down.

But rarely crashes.

No bumps. No bangs. No ditches. No rolls. No sliding into oncoming traffic. Just a lot of revving engines, sliding, fishtailing, and spinning tires. But rarely does anyone get hurt. We’ve learned. The Giant Icy Hill of Death teaches its students well. It forces parents living on the hill to take their children our for ‘Giant Icy Hill of Death’ sliding training. We are well equipped for winter.

Also it’s like a community. You’re sliding? ME TOO! I won’t honk at you. I see you’re stuck-ish. Let’s push together! I don’t mind that you’re only going 20. I get that you may be new to the Giant Icy Hill of Death. It’s terrifying. You’ll get use to it.

And when we did hit? Little bumps because everyone knows what the’re doing. No-one gets mad. Just pull over the car. Look at it. Shrug. Smile. Silly hill. Really. I’ve seen it more than once. It’s amazing.

Thank you great teacher, Giant Icy Hill of Death, for showing us your secrets.

Aria

Thanks For: Canadians Cope with Winter By Eating More Broccoli

Dear Flowering Headed Cabbage Vegetable,

Not that I have anything against broccoli but as a Canadian I can say that this a course of action I’ve never considered. Granted, there’s a lot of winter here. Stretching endlessly on into a white abyss from which you believe there is no waking and that the meters of snow will never recede to once again reveal the small sprigs of triumphant grass. But I’ve never thought ‘hey, you know what would combat this winter? More broccoli’.

But apparently I’m missing out. Move over poutine and beaver tails (the sugary kind that takes like a heavenly waffle, we don’t eat real beavers), Canada’s loading up on broccoli.

So why is this a thanks? I’m not a fervent lover of broccoli. I’m not even sure if anyone fervently loves broccoli, it’s sort of a general meh vegetable. But I’m thankful for the image of Canadians hunkering down, hiding from the snow, with troves of broccoli.

Even better. This was put out by an American magazine. Come on America? Is this what you think of us? Slapping a hockey puck around our igloos, chased by polar bears as we fend them off with projectile tim bits, and munching on broccoli.

I love it. Yes. That’s perfect.

At least it makes sense. Broccoli is a stellar source of vitamin C which is what you tend to be missing in the months of deep dark snow. I know. First bio class was devoted to extracting vitamin C from broccoli. I, the ever skillful, managed to badly burn my hand steam. Sigh. Broccoli is dangerous.

But apparently Canadian,

Aria