Friday the 13th

I'm not superstitious. I've shared my home with a black cat for over 15 years. I keep a ladder propped over my front door, and I have a shattered mirror over the bathroom sink. I like it. Seeing myself all fragmented like that is so very comforting to all of my personalities.

I wondered though, when I woke up this morning to a world covered in an even coating of wet sticky snow, what we've done to deserve this.

If you're Canadian you'll know that it always snows in April, although if you're not, you might take that to mean, "It snows steadily throughout the entire month of April in Canada" which isn't accurate! All I'm saying is that tulip shoots don't die if they get snowed on. This year is ridiculous though. We had a green Christmas and a white Easter. I am so tired of winter. I'm sick of snow. I want to be warm again.

This is my backyard a year ago:








This year my dog is (a little bit) bigger and my son's hair is (a lot) longer. Oh, and the grass is covered in white stuff.

I generally hate this time of year. Once all the stubborn greasy snowbanks finally disappear, all that's left behind is slimy brown grass and grit and litter. If spring in the country is all about melting manure piles, then spring in the suburbs is all about melting dog poop surprises and empty coffee cups. It doesn't get green and beautiful anywhere until close to May.

Last night we had the most wonderful rain. Big fat Ontario sized drops, running down the driveway and washing the pavement. It rained for a couple of hours.

The temperature dropped overnight. It's no wonder most of us look like we crawled out from under a rock.

Speaking of which...my husband hasn't had a day off since we got back from out west, a week ago Wednesday. If he gets any paler, he'll be see-through. We need to drag him out to the country this weekend for some "fresh" air! He's got another newspaper interview too.

In our local paper, there's a section called "Finish Our Sentences" with every human interest story. His was particularly funny. Here's an example: If they made a biographical film of my life, the actor I would want to portray me is...

Johnny Depp.

Ha ha ha! That's only because I was sitting beside him going, "OO! OO! OO! Say Johnny Depp!!"



Jethro looks nothing like Johnny Depp! They've had similar hairstyles a couple of times and have the same sparse facial hair; neither of them can sprout a full lumberjack/ farmer beard. And I add that in that photo Johnny's wearing Jethro's favourite shade of formal wear. Other than that...one's big and English blooded and fair skinned and the other is...not any of those things!

Although, I have suspicions that if you took Johnny and shut him up in a recording studio for fifteen years, fed him once a day, twice if he asks nicely, and only let him sleep four or five hours each night, he'd start to look pretty pasty too. I say let's not inflict such a life on our man Johnny. And I say it's time to free Jethro!!!

Man, I hope it warms up so we can enjoy our Saturday the 14th.