I heart Canada and Their Goose

Apres le deluge.....

".....one doesn’t pretend to do battle against a blizzard. You submit. Surrender. Hunker down. A snowstorm rewards indolence and punishes the go-getters, which is only one of the many reasons it’s the best natural disaster there is. " In Case of Blizzard, Do Nothing 
David Dudley NYT, January 22 2016

You might have heard we had a little snow storm yesterday. Phillips Exeter Academy cancelled classes (a rarity); and much else-including the Boston airport, basically shut down. The snow was going sideways in sheets of white, piling up while we ate breakfast; then Thomas put on his ski pants and announced he was going jogging.

He really should be studied under a microscope. (I went to the gym in the hotel, and that was cold enough.) To give you an idea of how ridiculous his instinct was, the waiter, a local and total blase about snow, was rendered speechless. "But you will slip on the ice....?" What he doesn't know is Germans do not fear ice unless it is in their drinks; cold drinks on a hot day weaken the character.

The day before the storm, I purchased a jacket from Canada Goose that I had wanted forever- but could never really justify the cost. These coats are famous around here and come in five levels of warmth: numbers one and two are spring in Boston level. Three and four will work for temperatures down to zero degrees Fahrenheit. And five is for the family re union in the Arctic circle. No one has ever actually been seen buying a five. It's just whispered about in the stores in the Back Bay.

I went for the four- and the guy told me it was warm enough to wear with nothing but a t shirt on the storm day. And I said: "Wow", but I was thinking; "thanks for the tip but...I intend to add every single piece of clothing I have brought, including long underwear and the hotel bathrobe with this baby. More is more."  We drove Frederick back to school before the storm hit. (he went back to school for Thursday and Friday, with plans to come back to Boston for movies and dinner over the weekend.) A nice family drive into the country with me so packed in Canada goose down and four seasons terry cloth that it was a challenge to put the seat belt on.
Well you can see where this is going - at first, I kept rolling down the window; with, dare I say it, increasing levels of crabbiness. Then I felt something approaching what Joan of Arc must have felt as they burned her alive. Poor Thomas, I don't know how he could drive with me ranting in Latin and my clothes piled on his head like that..."Hold the cross high so I may see it!!!!!!"

So storm day comes and I have the coat and Thomas has jogged. We are ready, We are pumped. Actually I am not pumped at all, having just read a wonderful article about surrendering to storms and just laying low, (see above). I reference this article and its sound point of view to my husband. Hopeless. Unless it's a Russian winter (sorry had to do it) there is no surrender with these people, so out to lunch I must go.

The coat is a dream- I love it more than any of you, it is my heart and soul, but with the fur hood up I literally can see nothing that is not an inch in front of me. Thomas kept calling me his little u boot  (periscope humor) So here I am an absolute cripple...albeit a warm one- and have to negotiate icy bricks and flying chunks of snow, or maybe they were people, and huge snowdrifts at the curbs and that is not even including the cars which cannot stop and I cannot see.  But because we are Wehlens and this is fairly familiar to anyone who has skied off piste in Lech,  we thought it was all very jolly. hahahaha. And it was kind of fun until we stumble to the restaurant and find it closed, and we have to find another one.

The best visual is a scene from a documentary about Emperor penguins who have to survive the winter months in the South Pole. They are sort of walking forward, but the wind is so strong, it's hard to tell. Thomas has denied this in the inquiry that followed, but he came very close to abandoning me to the elements after it was clear I could not see with the hood up, but was unwilling to take the hood down. We were maybe six blocks from the hotel, and yet I had semi serious concern that we would not make it. Crazy.

The next day the snow stopped and the real cold came, and this is worse. It is f-ing freezing. I am pretty warm in the coat, but my face is exposed, because at some point I have to actually look up.  Thomas keeps going outside...God bless his heart...he thinks maybe his blood will thicken if he just concentrates hard enough. The problem is the homeless- every time I walk by I hand them 20 dollars, but Thomas carries $100s, and these he doles out all the way down Bolyston street. I am not making this up: he left for yet another excursion to the bank and returned with nearly frost bitten hands, and -you guessed it- no money. There are pictures of Thomas circulating around town now...homeless people are naming their pets after him. I don't know how much longer we can afford to stay.

Thomas running outside after the snow stopped to "see what it was like"

Dreaded Sunday is here and I have to send Frederick back.  He seems rather serious about what is facing him work wise; like a small soldier before a long march. 💔

See you Tuesday, I'll be the one kissing the warm California ground.

Blessed coat. It's going in my will. 

new haircut; talking shop with his father. We don't have many years left where Thomas knows more about some things...