Confession Time

I have a confession to make.

I, Emma, am not at all ready for winter. I don't know if I have pointed this out before, but I live in Canada, one of the coldest countries on the face of the earth. Not only do I live in Canada, but I live in central Alberta and if you take away the three territories, Manitoba and northern Alberta, I am quite sure I live in the coldest area of Canada.

But here's the problem. Until this week we had been spoiled by our somewhat balmy, it's-a-cold-summer-day weather. I saw people in shorts for gods sakes. In NOVEMBER!! In EDMONTON!! Madness had descended and winter was somewhat forgotten. Forgotten were the winter boots and coats, the boxful of hats, mitts and scarves. Forgotten was the excitement of Christmas decorating (this is not entirely the fault of the weather, there is a dead spider right by the Christmas decorations in the basement and I am waiting for William to find it a new home in the garbage.)

And then Monday arrived and with it a blast of cold air and a wee bit of snow. The coats were around, but getting hats and all was a bit of a mess, dropped boxes and all. I have yet to buy a new pair of gloves this season for either Taylor or Liam although they are both in desperate need; Taylor because she chews holes in the fingers of hers and Liam because he is a boy. That explains it all I think. Being the bargain hunter I am I bought new coats and boots at the end of the season last year (the coats were $17 each, regular $89 and the boots were $8.99 per pair, regular $50. The baby's stuff was an even better deal. Sigh. I do love a good sale.) So it's just new mitts I need. I hate buying mitts, you pay a fortune and they are forever losing one of the pair.

As for myself, sometimes I must think it is still 1987 and I must not do up my coat, nor wear mitts or a hat. It is a wonder that any of us ever made it out of our teen years alive and well. When your skin freezes after 30 seconds and you refuse to wear a hat it feels as though your ears will snap off if someone touches them. The things we did to be considered cools. Friggin' eejits is what the lot of us were.