Where's our nuts?
|Have you got my nuts?|
|I think I put them over here.|
A friend told me of someone who was convinced a burglar had stolen all the family's winter coats one year. She went to her wardrobe where her coats used to be and found it bare. Only later did she remember she had taken them to the dry cleaners the previous Spring where they had been residing all summer.
|One boathouse - two seasons.|
Similarly I am beginning to suffer from this annual amnesia when this country transforms itself into a winter wonderland for six months. I have already recounted the story of my "stolen" iPod which had been sitting in my winter anorak for nine months. Only when the snow came did I put it on and find it.
|Same boathouse in summer.|
Living in Canada is like living in two foreign countries to me - the summer one where the temperatures are high enough for pavement cafes and late nights sitting outside (heaven when you're used to English summers) and the winter country where we live with snow for six months, need winter tyres and can ski and skate regularly. Twice a year you are marching down to your basement with bags of out-of-season clothes.
|Summer slide in winter.|
But the sudden change between the summer Canada and winter Canada catches us all by surprise. The same is true of Spring. Another friend recounts how she loves this time of year because she often sees her neighbours for the first time and discovers that some are six months pregnant.
But just for the moment I'm looking with just a bit more admiration at those grey furry creatures my friend calls rats with good PR.