At least, my idea of winter is.
It SNOWED yesterday. SNOWED.
This morning it was -6 degrees. By noon, it had one warmed up to -1. Frost on my car, gloves on my hands, the whole wintery deal. And you know what people said?
“Fall is here!”
FALL. This is FALL. Snow and frost and bundling up like the Michelin Man = Fall in Quesnel. I just can’t even.
Someone else said “I don’t know how you handled living in Vancouver. I mean, rain all the time? Couldn’t handle it.”
My response? “You don’t have to shovel rain.”
I understand that cold in Vancouver is different from cold in Quesnel. Vancouver cold is damp, bone chilling cold that sinks in for six months. Quesnel cold is dry, windy and accented with heavy coating of snow. I know I’m supposed to look at that and be like, oh yes, Quesnel winters will be much more manageable. I mean, they have sun sometimes!
And yet, I can’t. When it rains here I get emotional. I think about how I could survive winter in Vancouver with a cute pair of leather boots, a trench coat and an umbrella. I think about how nice rain smells. If this sounds weird, you have not lived near a pulp mill before. Sure, Vancouver winters are grey and damp. But they’re also green and low maintenance (no shovelling).
Quesnel winters mean long johns and using Vaseline as a moisturizer. Vaseline. As. A. Moisturizer.
Send help. And gloves.