Lookin' That Gift Horse In the Mouth

Top: March 2nd. Bottom: March 11th.

Coming off the wackest (unseasonably warm, that is) winter in my memory, we're dealing with a late March that feels like mid-spring. It doesn't make a got-damn lick of sense. However, just like when I was confronted with a piss poor winter wonderland, I'm choosing to embrace the situation rather than complain. I'm not whining about the thawed dog shit, or bitching about the garbage that the snowbanks hid. The day I took the picture on the bottom, I drove to my son's daycare with the window down and the tunes blaring, observing the city's early renewal with pleased eyes.

Whether it's winter to spring, or winter to spring, I see Winnipeg in a new light and at a different angle. As mid-sized as we are, I always see something new. That's kinda what keeps me here.

With all that said, I will look that gift horse in the mouth and remember that global warming brought us here. All I can do is recycle, conserve energy, and pray that things will get a little (or a lot) better by the time my son is a man. I'd kinda like Dante to know what a real Winnipeg winter feels like.

In the meantime, I might put some music in my ears and walk 150 pounds off in this weather. You never know.

It's here, and it's staying.

The Polo Park Canadian Tire parking lot. November 7th, 2008, 7:17 PM.

If you're a Winnipeg denizen, you're well aware that God hit us off with snow in one fell swoop. Not the usual single snowfall, followed by several days of puddles and brown streets. Nah, man...a day of freezing rain/snow and a day of constant snowfall.

I have an unabashed love for several things, and one those things is snow. In fact, I'm rather vocal about it. Winnipeg is far sexier in my eyes when it's covered in it. A night sky over the Exchange District obscured by blowing snow, when mixed with the amber lights of the streets makes my heart soar. I can't explain it. A newly-dusted Wolseley area street in the wee hours of the morning? You can't fuck with that.

Wanna harsh my mellow? Start bitching about the weather. Go ahead, you big whiner. Seriously, how long have you lived in this city? Barring uncharacteristically mild weather, this happens every fucking year. C'mon, buck up, princess. Put on a got-damn scarf or something.
Then, there are the folks that whine about the weather AND threaten to go somewhere warmer. That's funny...you're still here. What's stopping you? What, is it a money thing? I'll help you save cash. We'll start with me slapping that stupid latte outta yer hand and demanding a refund.

Anyway, take that last bit with a grain of salt. You have every God-given right to complain. I, of course, don't have to listen. And I won't.