Today, I'm a Hopeful Genius

Spring is springing!

Well, it's not exactly springing, but it was finally above 0°C (32°F) yesterday, which meant that I could take my gloves off to take photos without risking my digits.



The dirtier snow is melting into mucky and oily clumps and puddles, showcasing the grit and pollution of urban melt.

As much as this time of year is swampy and unattractive in Regina, though, and as much as it brings on my snow mould allergies like nobody's business, it still makes the small fist of my heart shake off some of its melancholy.



For those of us who suffer from seasonal depression, mud is hope's correlate in early spring.

Mud also means dragging out my belove red rubber boots!



These boots may be beloved, but I've always had a painful problem when I wear them. My socks tend to work themselves down my leg, and then the top of the boot rubs the back of my calf raw, because these boots are shaped to fit close to the leg. I had a major stroke of brilliance, though, and the problem has been solved.

To keep your close-fitting rubber boot from rubbing your calf raw, wear a pair of knee-high socks and fold the sock over the top of the boot. The boot holds up your sock, and your sock prevents your leg from being rubbed raw.



Today, I'm a hopeful genius.

I Will Never Get Used to Saskatchewan Januaries

It's been damn cold around these parts the last few days. When I woke up this morning, it was -44°F with the windchill with warnings about human flesh freezing in less than ten minutes, AND I JUST COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.

I have been trapped in this apartment by extreme cold for three days, which is bad enough, but then both dryers in the laundry room broke, and we ended up with ice cold, wet towels, and I had completely had it. I'd so had it that I pulled at my shirt and screamed at one of the cats to stop meowing GODDAMMIT holy shit where were the matches so I could burn this whole world down.

And then I took a deep breath or thirty, and I layered up to get ready for a walk to a local coffee shop where there would be other human beings and maybe something akin to heat.



I wore leggings, a tank top, a wool sweater, corduroy pants, homemade wool socks, leather boots lined with fur, a wool coat, a scarf, a toque, and the giant extra set of crazy that every Saskatchewanian is outfitted with so that we can leave our respective homes even under the most ridiculous conditions.

By the time I got to the coffee shop, my lips were numb and my nose and earlobes hurt from the first stages of frostbite, but I was out in public where there was probably heat and wifi, so I was happy.

Except that there was no heat and wifi. The coffee shop was freezing and their wifi was down. GODDAMMIT.

After days of never being warm and having crispy towels and waning productivity, I kind of lost my relative shit and called up the Palinode to tell him that I was not ever going to go back to our cold apartment and that we were going to go to a hotel to hunker down in someone else's expensive warmth, but then I realized that I wasn't one of those high-maintenance people who spent tons of money on a hotel six blocks from home because she felt pissy, so I marched over to the mall where the Palinode caught up with me, and we picked up a portable radiator.



Fuck winter in the ear with a wire brush. We're going to be warm.