In-between season

Paula Tessier
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Six months is a long time to be surrounded by winter. Last November the snow hit, and half a year later it’s still here.

But, dare I say it, we’re in the home stretch. I know this because our warm coats haven’t seen the light of day for a while now, and some days we wore just a sweater outside.

One day last weekend I was in a mad tear, and in an effort to get out the door faster I actually debated going out with my old Sketchers on my feet. For me, that’s a monumental decision, because you can’t wear socks with them, and once my socks come off in the spring, they don’t go back on until the dreaded frigid season starts again.

In the end, the socks were dragged on just before the shoes, and fate was not tempted that day.

However, this long chilly season has messed with my head. Not only is it difficult to absorb the fact that the snow may not be done with us yet, we are loving the longer evenings. So we’re in winterish mode with snow still on the ground, but also in spring mode with extra daylight hours to enjoy.

I’m not adjusting well.

On Sunday evening we came out of the IceCaps game to broad daylight at 6:30 p.m. It was wonderful, and a far cry from those nights in February when we’d come out of Mile One Centre in the thick of darkness with snow falling from above and mounds of it below; freezing cold, bone-cutting winds, impatient and congested traffic, and everyone hustling to get out of the elements.

Not so this past weekend. It was an early evening game, so when we were leaving the arena, just about everyone had the same expression on their face. “It’s still daylight? Look at that! Very cool!” And everyone seemed to share the same hope that we are on the other side of winter at last.

People were strolling along, in no particular rush to remember where they had parked. No car horns blared, there was chatter about the great game we’d just watched and hype about the playoffs, and it can all be credited to three things: daylight, no snow falling and no snow underfoot.

The longer evening had my mind playing tricks on me. I figured I had loads of time left to get stuff done. Clean off my desk in anticipation of the work week? No sweat! Laundry? There’s all kinds of time to get it done. I had a weekend work meeting scheduled for right after the game — surely there was enough time to do that and get all the other  weekend tasks out of the way before bedtime.

Well the meeting, like many, ran longer than expected. When I was leaving, my euphoria about extra daylight hours instantly disappeared. Somehow, without any of us noticing, the sun had dipped so low it was nowhere in sight and the moon had replaced it in the sky.  

Nighttime, officially. Rats!

The laundry? Still in the hamper. The desk? Still holds all the paperwork that needed tending to.

Six months of winter will do that to you — mess with your mind and your sense of timing until you start looking at your watch and doing a double take when you realize it’s midnight.

It shouldn’t take too long to adjust, though. I figure that, by September, my body clock will have this post-winter stuff down to a science.

Email Paula Tessier at

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