intertext

This is the view onto my deck this morning. If you realize that the space between the seat of the chair and the arm is about 6 inches, you'll have an idea of how much snow there is. It was up to Robinson's tummy when he went out for a pee.

I love the silence. I also love the enforced relaxation (except for the shovelling). I shall hole up in my cosy little house, toes to the fireplace, and take photographs of my Christmas tree for Photo Face Off's scavenger hunt today. Last night, I started a jigsaw puzzle. I haven't done a jigsaw since before my Mum died. I went grocery shopping yesterday to be sure that I had milk and bananas and things. I have a ton of snacky food and curry left over from movie night.

ETA: oh, and I shall light Solstice candles tonight.

There's more snow expected today - the warnings are still up. I don't know if this is going to be like the blizzard of 96, but it's certainly getting there. The weather conditions are in fact almost identical... The winter of 96, we had an influx of California sea-lions. Something to do with el nino or el nina, I forget which. It was so quiet then that I could hear the sea-lions barking from Dallas Rd waterfront, several miles to the south of me.

I know that most of you think "Snow? In Canada? Tell us something we don't know..." But in fact what many of you don't realize is that snow in my part of Canada is very unusual. Ours is described as a "mediterranean" climate; for gardeners, we're zone 8, which means we can grow palm trees when the ROC (rest of Canada) has trouble growing roses. So when it snows, particularly before Christmas, it's exciting.

There's only a dusting, but it's falling softly outside as I write. The dogs may be able to have a snowball fight later.