Sunny Side Up!
March 14, 2001

Copyright 2001, Kathleen Gibson

Fairweather Friends

Winter is finally stretching its long white neck and flapping its wings  - like a big old swan preparing for a lumbering liftoff.  I, for one, will be glad to see it go.

I grew up in B.C.  Family and friends from there like to rub my nose in our seven month winter. They start the calls in February  �Just checking on the color of snow.�  �Mowed my lawn today.�  �The tulips are up.�  �The kids are wearing shorts this afternoon.� 

It�s enough to inspire a letter bombing campaign.

One called last Saturday. �Guess what I�ve been doing today?� she chirped. �Gardening!�

One deep breath and she catapulted onward, taking no thought for my particular prairie pain.  �We pruned all the bay bushes, and the wisteria, d�ya know that it�s budding already? and the boxwoods, and the apple tree, then I started cuttings in sand - the man at the garden store said I could just go down to the beach and pick some up there, but I wanted the sterile stuff � no telling  what�s in all that seagull�.. well, I just thought it�d be better, and you should see the backyard - the last owner planted snowdrops years ago and there must be fifty thousand of them now��uh,.. Kathleen?

I don�t know if you�re supposed to prune a budding bush.  I hope her wisteria dies.   The green was up to my jowls before I could answer.  �Carole, a little consideration please.  The snowbanks in my driveway are up to my chin.  Do you know how long it will be before I can even see the dirt?�  I sniffed.

She thought a moment. �Well, you could root an avocado,� she offered lamely. 

Nearly ten years I�ve lived here. Before that I spent five in Ontario�s snowbelt.  I will not complain, I say every winter.  I will thank God for the blue umbrella sky, the pristine expanses of white and the golden orb that gilds it all.  I will rejoice in the beauty - like today�s.  The trees have donned diamond dust, and they�re waltzing in the breeze, flaunting their glitz. The sun is smiling.  The chickadees and Bohemian waxwings are tuning up a rousing chorus. There�s a morning party underway.  It�s sheer loveliness, and I do thank God for it.

But I�m too cold to dance. 

I�m going there.  To B.C. I mean.  I will not wear a parka. I will shovel no snow.  I will go outside in a light sweater, count the tulips and snowdrops, root a real boxwood, walk on the beach and seagulls be�.well I always liked their mewing sounds anyway.

Vancouver may quake into the sea, and Saskatchewan will likely float over to join it when the snow melts. But I�m still going.

Oh, I completely forgot to make the point I intended - that we should each learn to carry our own fair weather in our hearts.  I�m going to go get some right now.

Forgive me, but I have a plane to catch.

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