I’m aware that this may be the third comment on the weather that I’ve posted in the past few weeks. And I’m sorry, particularly since my colleagues in the Vancouver office are up to their eyeballs in city hall shenanigans.
People like to complain about the weather – it’s a fairly benign subject, free of challenging anyone’s politics, religion or sexual preferences. It’s a topic of conversation one can strike up with a stranger and be assured that both will agree it’s too hot, too cold, too much snow, too much rain, etc. In other words, you probably won’t end up in a heated debate.
But it’s the weather. It happens. Every day and every night. Most of Canada is cold in the winter and hot in the summer. We shouldn’t be surprised every year when the temperature changes.
But it’s the extreme stuff that has us chattering.
This weekend, I was out shoveling off my driveway the results of another storm. My street has been reduced to two deep, ice-encrusted ruts, bordered on either side by three-foot high banks of snow. Built up from snow plowed from the road a few days ago and snow plowed from the sidewalk. Most lawns, including my own, have four to five foot mountains created by almost three months of looking for a place to dump sidewalk and driveway snow. Walking along the sidewalk feels like walking through a trench – high embankments on both sides.
While Calgary basks in ice-melting double digits, Toronto is on track for more snow.
The record for the most accumulated snowfall in Toronto was 200 centimetres, set in the winter of 1939. Environment Canada says Toronto, pummeled by 115 centimetres since November, is on target to break that record. And we’ve yet to experience the wrath of February and March.
As long as freakish weather harasses the good citizens of Toronto, I promise to complain about it here, on CityCaucus.