I need to vent, and my work colleagues -most of them freshly arrived from France or South America and for whom the novelty of snow hasn’t worn off yet- made it clear that they were fed up with me complaining about the winter.
But I can’t help myself. I come from a small town 5 hours north of Montreal, where winter really means business. The first snow comes in October, and the last one often surprises people in May. It’s cold, cold, cold, a terrible cold that bites you and prevents you from starting your car and ensures that you really cannot stay outside more than 2 minutes for months at a time.
When I first arrived here for university about 14 years ago, it felt like Montreal was in the tropics. The season was much shorter, there was much less snow, and it was generally not as lethally freezing. Apart from the winter I spent in Europe when I was 25 years old, I’ve stayed put and have been pretty happy with Montreal winters. I let the “natives” complain with a smirk, because I KNEW what winter was really like, and for me this wasn’t it. Last year for example, we enjoyed a really warm New Year’s, and didn’t have any snow before January 15. Now that was my kind of winter.
But this year, it’s just the worst season ever and it gets me. The first snow fell in November, and I have to admit that at first I was excited, really happy to take out the little wooden sleigh we bought for LP and try it out in the white, glistening streets. But then, it snowed, and snowed, and snowed, and snowed some more. Even if we’ve had warmer days that thankfully melted at least some of it down, over three meters of snow has fallen since then. The windows are blocked, the entryways are blocked, and it’s hazardous just to drive down the streets because you cannot see anything around. I have never seen mounds of packed snow that high, and in the last few weeks there actually have been deaths in collapsed buildings, caused by rooftops unable to support the weight of the snow. Barren trees are three-quarters buried, and everyone is wondering whether we’ll be flooded in a couple of weeks…
That is if it ever warms up enough for the friggin snow to become rain at once. That’s the main problem, not so much the abundance of snow (the biggest accumulation in at least 65 years, they say) but the endlessness of it. Two years ago, on March 12, M and I washed the cars outside without a coat on, had a beer on the patio and cheered on the return of the Canadian geese (a sure sign of spring). This year, winter is still in full force, even if we’re in Daylight Saving Time already. For the first time in my life, Easter will be celebrated in the midst of winter. More than ever, the weather is the one and only conversation topic.
See, it’s not because people were born here that they actually enjoy the stuff. Most people, myself included, just curse and pretty much wait for it to end. My foreign colleagues say but aren’t you used to it by now? Shouldn’t you try to accept it, since there nothing you can do about it? I now I should, but I can’t. It’s been especially trying this year with a 23-pound child which I must still carry along with my purse, lunch bag, his diaper bag, groceries, and so on. By now, I have become quite proficient at navigating icy patches with my entire load in tow and have managed not to drop anything even once. However, LP is not very collaborative and always finds a way to kick his boot and sock off while we are outside, and/or to take off his mittens as quickly as he can, as if they were burning his hands off.
The biggest joke is that upon arriving from Quebec City on Sunday, the first thing M’s parents said was: “Boy, aren’t you lucky to have such little snow here.” I gasped in horror and just hugged them in silence.
OK. I know. There are far worse and much more important things in life than that. In the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing. Spring will come. LP will toddle in the dewy grass and point at butterflies, with his irresistible toothy grin. We will get through this winter. We will.
A little seasonal music, in the meantime. Malajube is a great local band, signing in French. I love their catchy underground pop sound, but I’m not that crazy about their silly, “n’importe quoi” lyrics. Nonetheless, this song is so relevant right now. It’s called “Montreal, -40° C” and the chorus goes like: “Montreal, you’re so cold, Like a polar bear riding on the bus, blahblahblah…”
P.S. The first picture, with the buried cars, is from our own driveway. The other ones were actually taken at M's parents in Quebec City mid-March.
But I can’t help myself. I come from a small town 5 hours north of Montreal, where winter really means business. The first snow comes in October, and the last one often surprises people in May. It’s cold, cold, cold, a terrible cold that bites you and prevents you from starting your car and ensures that you really cannot stay outside more than 2 minutes for months at a time.
When I first arrived here for university about 14 years ago, it felt like Montreal was in the tropics. The season was much shorter, there was much less snow, and it was generally not as lethally freezing. Apart from the winter I spent in Europe when I was 25 years old, I’ve stayed put and have been pretty happy with Montreal winters. I let the “natives” complain with a smirk, because I KNEW what winter was really like, and for me this wasn’t it. Last year for example, we enjoyed a really warm New Year’s, and didn’t have any snow before January 15. Now that was my kind of winter.
But this year, it’s just the worst season ever and it gets me. The first snow fell in November, and I have to admit that at first I was excited, really happy to take out the little wooden sleigh we bought for LP and try it out in the white, glistening streets. But then, it snowed, and snowed, and snowed, and snowed some more. Even if we’ve had warmer days that thankfully melted at least some of it down, over three meters of snow has fallen since then. The windows are blocked, the entryways are blocked, and it’s hazardous just to drive down the streets because you cannot see anything around. I have never seen mounds of packed snow that high, and in the last few weeks there actually have been deaths in collapsed buildings, caused by rooftops unable to support the weight of the snow. Barren trees are three-quarters buried, and everyone is wondering whether we’ll be flooded in a couple of weeks…
That is if it ever warms up enough for the friggin snow to become rain at once. That’s the main problem, not so much the abundance of snow (the biggest accumulation in at least 65 years, they say) but the endlessness of it. Two years ago, on March 12, M and I washed the cars outside without a coat on, had a beer on the patio and cheered on the return of the Canadian geese (a sure sign of spring). This year, winter is still in full force, even if we’re in Daylight Saving Time already. For the first time in my life, Easter will be celebrated in the midst of winter. More than ever, the weather is the one and only conversation topic.
See, it’s not because people were born here that they actually enjoy the stuff. Most people, myself included, just curse and pretty much wait for it to end. My foreign colleagues say but aren’t you used to it by now? Shouldn’t you try to accept it, since there nothing you can do about it? I now I should, but I can’t. It’s been especially trying this year with a 23-pound child which I must still carry along with my purse, lunch bag, his diaper bag, groceries, and so on. By now, I have become quite proficient at navigating icy patches with my entire load in tow and have managed not to drop anything even once. However, LP is not very collaborative and always finds a way to kick his boot and sock off while we are outside, and/or to take off his mittens as quickly as he can, as if they were burning his hands off.
The biggest joke is that upon arriving from Quebec City on Sunday, the first thing M’s parents said was: “Boy, aren’t you lucky to have such little snow here.” I gasped in horror and just hugged them in silence.
OK. I know. There are far worse and much more important things in life than that. In the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing. Spring will come. LP will toddle in the dewy grass and point at butterflies, with his irresistible toothy grin. We will get through this winter. We will.
A little seasonal music, in the meantime. Malajube is a great local band, signing in French. I love their catchy underground pop sound, but I’m not that crazy about their silly, “n’importe quoi” lyrics. Nonetheless, this song is so relevant right now. It’s called “Montreal, -40° C” and the chorus goes like: “Montreal, you’re so cold, Like a polar bear riding on the bus, blahblahblah…”
P.S. The first picture, with the buried cars, is from our own driveway. The other ones were actually taken at M's parents in Quebec City mid-March.
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