Deep freeze

It is starting to get light when I wake up from an extra hour of sleep: Doris, the school bus driver, phoned last night to let us know that the bus wouldn’t be running today due to the extreme wind chill expected in the morning. This is unusual; normally the decision of cancelling busses is made very early in the morning. Even at 8:30 PM, however, there was little doubt that the forecast would be correct.

From the bed I see the smoke from the chimney drift lazily by the window and move toward the trees. This means the north-west wind, though not strong, is at work pushing it down from the roof, giving it direction. It doesn’t need much to create a wind chill of -44 when the temperature is at -35.

The thermostat had been turned all the way down during the night, but the furnace has now been running for almost two hours without shutting off once. I woke up thirsty at seven, and my skin feels like parchment: the humidity in the house is down to 28%. Since we don’t have a humidifier we have started to have a pot of water on a low setting on the gas stove all day, which will bring it up to 35% within a few hours. I hang laundry in the basement instead of using a dryer – another helpful measure - and I’ve been cooking up a storm lately.

After a few days of this treatment the windows now show a narrow rim of frost along the bottom edge: the humidifying process must be working somewhat, at least. Before we, one by one, replaced the old windows in the house I wouldn’t be able to open a single one of them all winter, and the only one offering a free view of the outside world was the big picture window in the living room. The others were beautifully decorated with ice flowers and strings of ice pearls, an underwater world with undulating sea weeds glistening in the sun. On days like today I don’t regret this exchange of beauty for comfort.

The trucker who was going to take five B-train loads of oats to Edmonton for us today phoned at seven, too:  none of his trucks is in any condition to drive in this kind of weather; they all have problems. No standing outside for any length of time for Johann then either, and while it would have been nice to have the oats loaded it certainly is a lot easier when it’s not one of the coldest days of the year.

Winter, then, has arrived at last, and I can only hope that it won’t be trying to make up for all the mild weeks we have had at its start. Once again the old German saying proves to be true:

“Wenn die Tage langen, kommt der Winter gegangen.“ - 

"When the days get longer winter comes marching in“.

Waiting for a warmer day