It’s been one of those days where I can’t decide if I want
to burrow under the covers and stay there all day, or become a kid again (note
to self: acquire time travel device) and pull on my one-piece snowsuit and play
outside in the drifts until I’m so tired I can’t lift my arms anymore and my
winter boots are so heavy they seem like they are pinning me to the earth.

The first option would have been a lot more likely if my
office had sent an email out about the snow day. Instead, I found out after I’d
already made the commute – a nervous, crawling ride past three, four, five
buses that had slid off the road. I was showered, dressed, downtown, and
already bundled to the eyes when I found out I had the day off, so while I
wasn’t able to flash back to 1993, I did spend a fair bit of the day outside,
wandering around, picking up a few Christmas gifts and running some errands, taking
in the sights and sounds of the first major storm of the winter.

The sights: Parents trading in strollers for toboggans and
sleds, labouring down the sidewalks like draft horses while the kids slide
along behind them. At almost every intersection, car owners caught off guard by
the early storm, their “all-season” tires spinning uselessly and sending up
fountains of dirty snow. Souped-up pick-ups and 4x4s with plows mounted on the
bumpers rushing back and forth across parking lots while the bigger,
custom-made city plows patrol the main streets. A young mother stepping off a
bus downtown, struggling to climb over a two-foot snowbank with a folded
stroller in one arm and a toddler in the other.

The sounds: The dull scraping of shovels on pavement, first
and foremost. The occasional hum of a snowblower. That odd, soft sound of a car
losing traction and sliding sideways into the banked snow along the curb, so
much quieter than the squealing and crashing of a summer fender-bender.

Oh, and the sirens. The reminder that these storms never
fail to make more bad news than good, however much I loved playing outside in
the snow as a kid, and however much I enjoy an unexpected day off. Everywhere I
went today I could hear them in the distance, and now and then they came closer
and overtook me completely, as when three firetrucks roared past me on my way
to the post office. (The other drivers on the road, having dutifully pulled
over to let the trucks pass, were all instantly stuck. Engine-revving and
tire-spinning filled the silence after the sirens had faded.)

Canadiana du jour: If you can find it, a classic Quebecois
kids movie (but still great to watch as a grown-up!) called La Guerre des Tuques, or in English, The Dog Who Stopped The War. I believe
the Australian title was The War of Snows.
A group of kids in a small town form two “armies” and proceed to have the
greatest snowball fight in history. The weaker side builds hands-down the best
snow fort known to man, but things spiral out of control as the “war” goes on...
(Tear-jerker warning!) I couldn’t find any dubbed English-language clips, but even if you don’t speak French
(or rapid-fire Quebecois, in this case) this one and this one are still worth
checking out.