{van picnic}

On Saturday, it warmed up to something like -10, so we went on a family van picnic to celebrate Julia's birthday. We ate taco salads and listened to Glenn Miller on the tape deck before bundling up for a walk in the snow.
Those of you in California probably won't understand, so I'll lay it out for you like this: In Canada, sometimes the weather dips far below zero for seven months or so and pipes freeze and cars refuse to start, and the guy on the radio goes on and on about frostbite and unsafe driving conditions. At this point, those of us in Saskatchewan generally like to keep out of the -48 degree windchill, drinking hot stuff and reading a lot of books on our couches in our houses. {Save for a few kooks who "love snow" and "enjoy skiing".}

And so it is that when March and -10 rolls around, we emerge from our blanket caves, squinting against the glaring  sun flashing off the white snow, covering our white skin with all of the pretty knitted things we were given for Christmas and remarking, "It's so nice outside! You could go to the beach on a day like this!"

You couldn't, really, though. Not in a swimsuit. We're just trying to be optimistic. We are revelling in the fact that we can walk around for ten whole minutes with most of our faces exposed and not get frostbite.
Saturday's only downfall {and I'm talking pretty literally here} was that the snow was not a completely reliable place to put your feet 100% of the time. And the people at the front of the pack often quite suddenly ended up in the snow up to their thighs instead of on top of it. Light thoughts, small steps!
By the time we got back to the van, my shoes were full of snow and my cheeks were bright red. But it was good. Because warming up is always the best part of getting cold. Hot chocolate and dry socks and losing layers and blasting the hot air and Pennsylvania 65000.  {Happy Birthday, Jewelia!}