Knocking on March's Door

A person has to psych herself up to even go outside these days. The first thing I heard this morning was the DJ on my alarm clock radio with the cheery news of how cold it was outside. This was followed shortly thereafter with an e-mail from the Weather Channel (yes, I am that geeky) telling me that my little corner of the world was under a windchill warning - something that kicks in when it dips below minus 40. By the time I am dressed and ready to go out and start my car, the dog has already been out for his usual morning "check the perimeters" run and looks at me with a "I wouldn't go out there if I were you" look on his face. Too bad I have this job I have to go to ... which just happens to pay for his dog food bill. I tell him that we're in this together and plow through the snow drifts to get out on the road and we go about our business for another day.

Everywhere we turn these days there is talk of flood worries when it finally does warm up. When winter hit last year the ground was absolutely saturated and there is more snow right now than I can remember for at least 30 years. Everyone is praying for a slow melt, giving the water time to seep in or trickle away. The farmers want to be able to plant their fields. Homeowners are worried about water damage. Municipal governments are concerned with roads and bridges that may wash out. And oilfield workers know that "spring breakup", a period of time that they have to shut down every year when the ground is too muddy and the roads are too soft for their equipment, could last all summer if it stays too wet. That's a very long time to go without a paycheck.

The month of February has been a bit of an adventure. There hasn't been one big snow storm, but there have been many many small snow falls. Roads are built with ditches for drainage in the summertime, but also it gives somewhere for drifting snow to fall into during the winter too. This year the ditches are full - to overflowing as of a few weeks ago. There are many places on my drive to town that the ditches are higher than the road now. It's kind of like driving through a bit of a gully in places, but I keep wondering if we will end up getting a really big blow because that will be the end of my getting to work until the graders are out. As it was, last Friday I had to get out of the yard through the barnyard gate (Glen calls it our bunny hole escape) and once on the road I chose to drive a route that added 4 more miles to my trip but I was pretty sure would make the difference in my getting to town, or not. I got there but I was sure glad I drive an SUV with all wheel drive.

The weather people are only talking about cold cold cold for the next while so maybe we will dodge the kind of storm that could shut us all down. We're almost at March, you know. Of course, there is still that "lion and lamb" thing to worry about.

IT'S A ROLLER COASTER RIDE

Glen and I have often marveled at a prairie sunset and agreed that if the scene before us with all those colors (and we're talking everything from pale pink right through all the oranges and reds imaginable to purple and magenta ) were in a painting or framed photograph, no one would believe that it was real. Remember back in the days of the original Star Trek series when they would alter the background colors to make it look like "other-worldly", well that about sums up what we see for sunsets every night. Saskatchewan has "Land of the Living Skies" written on our license plates - it sounds kind of over-the-top when you first hear it, but come and live here a while and see if it doesn't fit.

The reason I was thinking of this out-of-this-world weather scenario tonight is not because of the sunset (although it was beautiful, as usual) but because of the temperature. I got to thinking about what aliens would think about our planet today if they had their sensors trained on the North American continent trying to see what the living conditions might be like.

This time last week we were just coming out of an incredible deepfreeze - temps in the mid minus 30's and windchills to take it to minus 40. Then a spell of a few days when the ice melted and the roads became trecherous. Then, back down to minus 45 with the windchill. I can just see the little green men in their weather room putting a huge X through our planet and placing it on the "Uninhabitable" list. I would hazard a guess that there are more than a few humans who would agree with them right about now. But, not to worry, by tomorrow evening we are supposed to be up near the zero mark again. There's a saying out here - "If you don't like the weather here, just wait a minute."