A Break In The Weather. Please.

"Man, what a picture-perfect postcard this would make... "
                                                            -Rodney Atkins



   I am so damn done with this winter.

  More snow has hit the ground  this winter than we have had in the past four winters, total.

  With more on the way.

  As I type this, it is -23 degrees Celsius outside my window.

  I am tired of the gleeful addendum  to the weather report  "... that feels like -1,387 with the windchill!"

   (Ever notice that the cruel, cold-hearted bastard who invented the Wind Chill Factor is anonymous?  Celsius and Fahrenheit and Richter and Geiger and Beaufort all named their various scales and measurements after themselves, but the guy who came up with the answer to "Hey, how can we make a miserable season like winter feel even worse?"  is unknown.  Or In Witness Protection.}

  I have run out of places to pile the snow that I scoop, once again, off Stately Jones Manor's sidewalks.

 The driveway?  Fuhgeddaboutit.  Down to two frozen ruts.

 I could live without that heart-sinking feeling  I get when I slide behind the wheel of Lady Liberty in the morning, turn the key and hear *click*.

  I am tired of the ritual of coming home, stepping inside the front entry, removing my boots and stepping in melted snow.  Every.  Damn.  Day.  


 The novelty of a "good old-fashioned Canadian winter" has well and truly worn off.

  So, it's time for some pretty pictures!

Jack and Melanie captured some great shots of the Wednesday Night fleet:

Shots from the end of the Dock:

  

  
Whiskeyjack at dusk:

Yes, Hilary is attempting to ram us...again.

   (objects in rear view mirror may appear closer than they actually are.)

  Speaking of Hilary, he and Deb often visit offspring who reside in the Bahamas, and they find it necessary to torture me with pictures upon their return:

   Look at that water!  It's ....blue!  All of the water here right now is white.  And solid.

     Eight and a half more weeks until the Dock reopens for the season.  We might even have clear water by then.

Until then, keep the faith, and continue to ...


"Talk the Dock!"