The fair city of Montreal has almost entirely ground to a halt.  Cars are spinning their tires uselessly in all of the fresh snow.  In Mile End this afternoon, I saw a large bagel delivery truck and about 10 cars stuck at a four-way stop.  They were trying collectively to figure a way out of the standstill.  Normally the street would have two lanes, but today it barely has one.  The snow is piling up on the sidewalks, on the streets, and into huge snowdunes, some of which are craggy, some of which are swept smooth by the wind.

It is as if we’re going through a small crisis.  There is an air of bemused consternation in the air.  If you can’t laugh at it, you’re going to be very frustrated quickly.  Of course, I have the luxury of laughing more than most.  I don’t have a car.  I’m not getting stuck on a regular basis and having to conduct a mini-marathon snowclearing session every time I want to excavate my means of locomotion.

My car is thousands of miles away in Edmonton!  (But not for long).

Another entity grinding to a halt?  Me.  At least yesterday.  I was recovering from the previous night’s celebratory drinks.  I lazed around almost the entire day and marvelled at the weather.  Today, I don’t really regret a thing.  Nope!