Cold comfort

Boy is it cold. Now I don't mean 'you had better put on a cardie cos' it's a bit chilly out' sort of cold, but more of a 'I'm going outside Captain Scott, I may be some time' sort of freezing. Temperatures have dropped to minus 40 this week and quite frankly, it is too cold to breathe. This makes my journey to work every day a bit of a challenge. The clothing required alone is substantial. In order to maintain a reasonable core body temperature I wear an assortment of gear. There are the long thermal leggings, thick trousers, a vest, shirt and thick jumper, a padded coat, woollen neck warmer pulled up over my mouth and nose, a Russian style hat with tie down ear flaps, substantial gloves and a pair of Arctic proof, all weather, extra grip boots. In fact, the only part of me exposed to the elements are my eyes and if I could cover those without losing all navigational ability, I would. When the wind blows at 40 degrees below, it is like having ice needles poked into your face. Wearing goggles of course is not an option. Nobody wears them, not if they wish to be taken at all seriously and in any case, you'll look like an idiot. By the time I stagger in to Stantec Towers after my short walk from the transit, my neck warmer has gone solid, my finger tips are losing the ability to move independently and I have to chip ice off of my eyelashes.

Well, I can hear you all say, it was your choice, you moved to the freezing Province. You could have gone somewhere hot, like Australia but instead you chose Canada. The thing is, it may be cold, but it is dry. We don't get wet and that is far more preferable from a comfort point of view. Recently, a colleague of mine moved from Edmonton to Vancouver and was waxing lyrical about the mild temperatures experienced there compared to here. He also mentioned that it had rained 2 out of every 3 days and said that it reminded him of the UK. He preferred it, so did his wife. I cannot think of anything worse than moving across the Atlantic to live in a country where the weather was exactly the same as the country you had just left. One of the reasons we came here was to escape the damp, clammy climate so typical of a UK winter.

You see, my journey to work may be challenging from a cold point of view, but it is not a hardship. Once you dress accordingly, you are fine. I step out of my door in the early morning and the air is crisp and fresh. The sky is clear and the only company I have is a big, fat smiling moon and the occasional white jack rabbit mooching about. My sanguine walk to the transit stop takes me through quiet undisturbed residential roads covered in a blanket of white and flanked by trees sparkling in the early morning light. It is like walking into a Christmas card - every single day. The cold air charges the blood and banishes sleep, enabling me to get to work refreshed and ready. Would I change this for a mild morning, overcast with grey angry clouds and running desperately for the bus in a drizzle of rain, sitting uncomfortably in wet clothes and sneezing into my coat sleeve because my handkerchief is a wet, sodden lump? Go figure.