Hot Hot Hot
Don’t you love this time of year? We buy our très chic resort wear at an upscale department store, pack our Louis Vuitton suitcase and book a flight to a land where the sun always shines. Leaving behind our pesky neighbour whose galoshes are knee-deep in snow as he grumpily shovels the driveway, we wave merrily from the cab, trilling “Too-da-loo! I shall bring you a shell!” Our neighbour lobs a shovelful of snow at our face, but nothing can daunt us.
Nice dream, eh? In reality, I am the pesky neighbour in galoshes grumpily shovelling the driveway. I don’t know about your neighbourhood, but where I live nobody seems to have gone anywhere, not even to work because the snow is up to our waists. Like Willy Wonka’s Oompa Loompas, we are lined up at the bottom of our driveways, throwing snow in unison.