If you can believe the weather here, it was four this morning (that's about 42 F for my American readers) and it's only going to 13 (about 50 F). I look with profound pity on my brave, struggling little flowers, forlorn and sad in their pots on the back patio. Hauled out a winter coat to go to the pool this morning, it was brutal. I HATE THE WEATER IN CALGARY.
Just back from Rona, where I bought a dandelion remover. You have to do it the hard way, those weed killers never work; they just make your lawn look like a scruffy dandelion graveyard. Anyway, a total stranger came up to me and starting raving about the weather. There we were, both garbed for a snow storm in the garden centre. Quite the existential juxtaposition!
As if to tease and torture, it will be beautiful and sunny one day and then plunge the next. When we came here last July to reconoitre and buy a house it was absolutely gorgeous and hot, so I didn't give a thought to what was in store. And when we moved at the end of August, it was still beautiful. I sometimes wonder if I'd have moved, had I known the weather situation. But no, when I look at darling Reed, I know we made the right decision.
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