In Ottawa when it is colder than -35 degrees Celsius, the government issues weather warnings to stay inside, keep an eye on children and the elderly and everyone has fun shopping, going to movies, having sleepovers with best friends and stuff like that. Well, we had friend sleepovers, anyway.
In Whitehorse, when it is that cold outside it is called ‘winter’ and everyone bundles up and plugs their cars in. I think they issue warnings when its colder than -50. This week it’s averaging between -35 and -40 something. I nearly hospitalized myself filling the truck up with gas. (An exaggeration for you southern folk. My fingers just got really cold. Even inside my mitts!) Our truck didn’t start at all Monday as all the oil and engine had frozen. We used a creative technique involving a hot lamp, blankets and a forceful shove from another car, pushing ours into our garage to remedy the situation. Our garage door, it turns out, is built to close 3 centimeters short of our truck length. Hoorah!
At work, we all run down every hour or so to turn on our engines so they don’t freeze up, and when I got to the indoor track for lunch runs, I just leave ‘er running. (No riverside runs in this weather, oh no, my pretty blond head would likely cryogenically freeze or something!)
The usually insanely busy Superstore has a barren parking lot, and all the good movies are rented out.
There is this phenomena called “ice fog” that magically impedes my vision as I try to figure out where I am going by where the tail lights in front of me are headed.
The poor puppy pees closer and closer to the door, and lifts her poor little paws off of what I assume feels like a frozen pole you are not supposed to lick. No walks for her so she takes out her unused energy on our clothing and our carpet.
I wear like a bajillion layers to go 100 metres to get the mail, with only an eye slit left exposed so that I may see where I am walking.
Steam comes out of our front entrance when I open the door.
I am forced to stay in my living room on my comfy couch eating fruity popsicles with my puppy and kitty while husband works night shift, and that in its own is not an unwelcome break.
It is unwelcome when it is repeated for days on end and there is no good TV because the writers are still on strike. Curses!
Oh, and we found out this spring we are moving somewhere further north and colder in this freezing frigid territory of ours.
[Shudder]

Labels: moving, winter, Yukon