Every day, twice a day, I get the weather report for the coming week delivered to my email in-box. I love getting weather by mail.
We Canadians are enamored of our weather. Nay, I would even venture to say that some are a bit obsessed with the weather. You can’t strike up a conversation with a random Canadian person-in-the-street without discussion of the weather. We have a weather network, which is probably the most-watched channel in the winter. I will myself admit to having the Weather Network on, day in and day out, over Christmas holidays. (And that’s not only because they let the newbies work over the holidays and things get so screwed up. Oh no. Although that IS some good times, I can tell you.)
And so, when the Weather Network offered to deliver daily forecasts direct to my inbox — well now, there was an offer I couldn’t resist.
Twice daily I check my trusty weather report to see what the weather will be. (Or, more accurately, I check my oft-wrong weather report to see what the weather probably will not be.) And sometimes, I will share it with BDH.
When we’re sitting together in the evenings, each on our separate computers, I will ask him, “Honey, would YOU like to know what the weather will be this week?” This sets the tone for the discussion. He responds, “Why, of COURSE, dear! I would LOVE to hear the weather forecast!” Clearly, at this point, the tone of mocking and silliness belies his need to know, and my need to tell him. But it makes us laugh.
And so I begin, with a singsong-y weather girl voice, full of unneccessary enthusiasm and enunciation. Occasionally, I’ll throw in the appropriate meteorological hand gestures in front of my invisible weather map. “Tomorrow, clouds coming in in the afternoon”… sweeping hand gesture… “with a high of 6 degrees. Tomorrow evening”…dramatic pause… “chance of showers, and 4 degrees.”
Yesterday, I read the weather report to BDH. I went merrily through the week, cheerfully, hand gestures like a meteorological maestro. And then, “…and on Friday, chance of FUCKING STUPID SNOW FLURRIES…”
And I finished the week’s weather. Once the weather was done — silence.
Finally, BDH said, “Well honey, THAT was LOVELY.” “Thank you,” I beamed.
Then he said, “It kind of went a little… CRAZY… there in the middle…”
That’s the thing about Canadian weather. You never know what you’re going to get.