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On Surviving Canadian Winters
"This is the weather the Shepherd shuns, And so do I.''
These two lines sum up perfectly my antipathy towards the weather which winter brings. Only the fittest orthe mostexperie:.1cedsurvivea Canadian winter; and since, except for the Eskimos, few of us are fit for this type of ordeal, experience is the only thing which enables us to survive.
Luckily, or unluckily, I should say, experience is something which no one in Canada lacks--no one alive, that is. For six bleak, cold, weary, dreary months we exist without one cheery ray of warm sunshine.
"Oh," you may scoff, "I've read of many people who seldom see the sun." I won't contradict you, but re- member, they are Eskimos.
Nights are the worst, and as yet I know of but one way to come through them unfrozen. By crawIing to the centre of my bed, curling up as tightly as I can, and heaping qui Its on top of me, I always remain warm-blooded. The thing to remember is that no holes for icy blasts of air must exist. This method guaranteesaspeedyawakening, because I doubt if anyone could sleep when once he has received a shock of wind from above the quilts. To be perfectly fair, this method has one draw-back--people frequently believe me to be dead when they observe a mound of qui Its on top of a motionless bump. Being naturally sensitive, the look of intense disappointment on their faces unnerves me for an instant.
Walking to school is unrelieved torture. {For an as yet undiscovered reason, wa !king home is not nearly so bad.) The sidewalks, if shovelled at all, have a walking space of one foot or less, so I always use the street. The wild honking which motorists indulge in on seeing me usyally upsets me, and I have found that pickfng myself and my books out of a snow bank is not one of the joys of life. Enduring the white rocks which third grade boys feel a duty to hurl at me is an ordeal which never lessens in horror.
By this time you are no doubt bursting with fiery speeches in defense of winter, because few people know when they are 'badly off'. I shall fail you, though, by answering your arguments now.
I won't quarrel with the phrase 'Winter Wonderland'. It is indeed a wonderland, but close your eyes for a moment, crouch over a heater to give yourself the atmosphere of the scene, and imagine yourself for one glorious moment in Florida. A soft, warm wind is swaying the palm trees gently; sun-flooded sands stretch lazily out to meet blue breakers, topped with foam. The drowsing scent of nodding flowers and the chirping lullaby of brilliant- hued birds conspire to help you relax. Even an Eskimo would jump for joy. Have you ever jumped, or even skipped, for joy in winter? No! For one thing, with those heavy boots on, few people can get off the ground.
You have probably thought out your next line of attack well.
"Winter," you will say pompously, "develops character, especially in cowardly people like you."
This is utter nonsense, of course; I defy you to name anything which can develop while frozen, including character. You no doubt remember, however, that sun causes almost everything .to grow. To look up into the vicious point of an icicle hanging over my head does not make me courageous. Instead, I am able to slide about with remarkable speed.
One argument which I am unable to answer is the statement that you have winter sports. So do I, for the first ten minutes or so. After that I am too busy stamping my feet to notice much. Other people. are not, though.