It's been an odd week, here in Southern Ontario, Canada.
Like, seriously odd.
In this week, alone, we have experienced three of the four lovely seasons Canada has to offer. Legit.
On Monday, the morning started out frigid and icy. Treacherously icy. It provided some pretty awesome fodder, though - theGuy and I laughed our butts off during the drive into work - there's just something about watching people fall that makes me giggle (and, for the record, I fall a lot - I'm a giver, like that). It was so icy on Monday, people were walking slowly, with their arms out for balance, and wiping out anyway. Every person we passed on the street either slipped and fell or was walking with a slight limp. It was one of those mornings.
Then, later in the day, it started raining. Big fat, wet drops, that turned the ice into slush. Slippery, yucky slush.
As the week has gone on, we've had lots and lots of rain. People's basements are flooding. Soakers were happening on an hourly basis. My winter boots are covered in mud. It was 13 degrees C yesterday - beautiful, balmy weather.
Which brings me to this morning. I stepped outside to get the car started, and realized that the doors were actually frozen shut. A few days of rainfall crashed into a super cold front. It's calling for -14 degrees C today - which is a TWENTY SEVEN degree difference than yesterday. The winds are so strong, it would separate Tony and his family in no time.
It's friggen winter.
You're probably thinking to yourself: why on earth, is Patti talking about the weather? What could be interesting in that?
And I say: Have you ever met a Canadian? We know our weather.