The short is founded on two things– my personal interest in getting an electric vehicle, and the arrival last weekend of snow. Loads of it. About 30% of what we got in the whole of the previous winter.
Although joining in the ribbing of those who insist “you’ll never get one of those started in the winter,” I quiver with seething jealousy. This is tempered by my willingness to wait for the VW van to appear in a year or so.
The feature is something I’ve wanted to see for ages and could never find, and then like a bolt from the blue, there it sits, trembling in the clutches of the YouTube algorithm. You probably won’t be able to get through it in a lunch break.
The cunning simulation of tens of thousands of troops was achieved by borrowing tens of thousands of troops from the Soviet Army (who, having not gotten mired in Afghanistan yet, were at loose ends) and training them in early 19th century drill and maneuvers.
I was also frequently struck by how much Christopher Plummer looks like Peter Cushing. I kept expecting a formation of Draculas to wheel across someone’s flank.
I’m going to share a couple of things I’ve watched this week, rather than hoard one away for future use. Such extravagance!
First, a bit of charming semi- or perhaps quasi-traditional animation, which follows a mythology I’m not familiar with:
Now, since it is a mythology I’m not familiar with, I don’t know how closely it holds to tradition, but I’m willing to accept it is traditionally Finnish (I’m not a subscriber to the mad idea that Finland itself was a Norse myth and only gained existed in 1923 as a scheme to frighten the Russians).
The other thing is just an excerpt from an old favourite of mine, presented by a chap with a good voice for the purpose. What struck me, though, is that it’s the first time I’ve experienced the words in connection with maps, which re-framed the action wonderfully in my imagination.
In many parts of the world, February has just ended, and thus spring is right around the corner.
Here in Saskatchewan, March is a mere annex to February, a place where that bleak month stores the misery it just could not dish out in its own compass. We’re told it will go as low as -29C tonight… which is better than much of last week, but it’s hardly “balmy.”
So, like many people around here, my thoughts are turning to warm places which I can no longer even imagine with any fidelity. Today’s film is, in essence, a view of what’s happening inside my head this very moment.
The still air temperature here, when I left the house (fever broken, sensible periods between toilet-imperative moments), was -35C. This is not a big deal… here. I understand that similar temperatures have been happening in parts of North America where it is absolutely a big deal, the sort of thing schools close about.
Aside– to my knowledge, there has been exactly ONE snow day called by the school system in my hometown in the course of my entire life; to do otherwise is to simply not open the schools for winter.
ANYWAY, since a lot of people will be sensibly not dragging themselves out of the house today, a diversion which might just be good for your brain:
Long before I pitched over sick yesterday, I had booked a week off starting this coming Monday. You may, therefore, not hear from me until the week after.
We had freezing fog here this week. Freezing at this time of year is not uncommon, but fog is pretty rare. It lasted the better part of a day, and unlike freezing rain what it mainly did was make things pretty–
So, I’m willing to be charitable, for the moment, about winter. Let’s go sledding!
I greatly enjoy the Great British Bake Off, and its Canadian cousin. I enjoy, now and then, baking a cake. I shall be doing so this weekend, in fact, for an observation of my father’s birthday.
But I am not a huge fan of frosting or icing. The former was a menace on Christmas day, during a week in which many places in Canada were being described in the news as colder than Mars. It’s not quite that cold today… but on Wednesday it was warm. It was, in fact, only freezing, in the strict 0C meaning of the word.
Which meant that the couple of hours of rain which preceded the sudden drop back to normal winter temperatures is still gleaming on every horizontal surface. We have been glazed.
So today’s film is a philosophical contemplation of what might happen if time stopped. Because I think it did. Or has. Or continues to.
The shapes of the clouds yesterday and the apparent depth of the sky last night inform me that it is, in local terms, no longer winter. I’ve derided the idea of astronomical/calendar seasons many a time, but this year, this season is pretty darned close.
…but no sign of my tulips. I suspect the fatty fat fat squirrels of the neighbourhood are behind this.
Alas, not an option for either of my current problems. Fire applied to the novel will only make more work for me unless it’s part of an admission of abject failure… which frankly on Monday was an enticing path but which I’ve gotten over since. The novel is less of a problem than a challenge, anyway, and setting fire to a challenge is weak.
The other current problem is winter. If I had enough fire to deal with it and its week of -30C mornings, I would have entirely different and more pressing problems (and so would you, however far from me you are). However, after a week of that sort of unpleasantly bracing starts to the day, I am happy to watch some people take chainsaws to winter, or at least some of its manifestations.
The throwback is only to last Thursday. Last week, we got what I could without much fear of contradiction call the only real snowfall of the winter. Those who attend to the cycling of the equinoxes will probably spot that, technically speaking, spring was already upon us last week. This illustrates both the contrary nature of weather and how astronomically-determined seasons just don’t mesh with experience here in the broad Canadian prairie.
Anyway, last Thursday, the snow had stopped, and the sun was out by day’s end… and there were some pretty things emerging from the interaction of loads of fresh snow and low-angle sun. As it takes me this long to drag images out of my good camera and process them, it’s not exactly news, but it is fodder for my own little on-line gallery. Here, see how pretty Old Man Winter can be when he’s just shuffling out the door–
March Foliage
Snow Lace
The Darling Buds of March (seriously, Tree– it’s too early; go back to sleep)
What's up at Ravens March. 