This is what people in Toronto are saying, as they endure this extreme blast of winter FOUR WEEKS before winter is officially due to start: AT LEAST WE’RE NOT IN BUFFALO.
Indeed. A man just found dead in his car which was buried in a snowdrift. We’re cold, but not that cold.
I got warm this morning by visiting Mr. Chatty, the busiest boy ever. I ended up throwing a ball for him to chase, just like a puppy. We read a book which had a picture of a purple cat. “Me kiss him,” he said, and I held the book close so he could give the cat a kiss. Could I love this boy more? And then we walked up Roncesvalles to the wonderful toy store Scootergirl, to buy him something he wanted desperately – a firefighter hat. Oh, wonder. While there, his mother and I checked out the Playmobil stuff for Christmas presents. Another great treat of grandparentdom – visiting toy stores again. I wanted half the stuff for myself.
But despite this major display of cuteness, I am not getting sucked into the Xmas vortex this year. No no no. A few basic things and money for the grown-ups, that’s IT.
No, that really is IT. Really. Well, maybe a few little things, but not much. No no no. Well…
