Ice storm eh?
I woke up in Montreal (with a sore everything) on Sunday the 22nd of December blissfully unaware of the chaos going down in Ontario. While it was just a regular snowy winter wonderland in MTL, lots of South Eastern Ontario had been covered with freezing rain. I became painfully aware of the circumstances when my mom picked me up in Kingston and we sat together through a nail biting trip along the 401 back to Small Town.
The devastation to the trees alone will make this Ice storm a memorable one – maybe not the magnitude of the ’98 storm, but certainly more documented.
While Ice Storms are devastating to both Flora and Fauna – and just generally provide dangerous scenarios – they make for beautiful photos!
The Frozen Family Compound
Almost blocked in!
Through the Trees (mostly still standing!)
Roadway looking Caved in
Little Branches Bearing all that Weight!
Now that we’ve had a few days of above 0 Celsius everything is starting to melt and the trees are being released from their icy shackles. Hilariously, as the sections of ice are falling off the tree the property is now covered in little tubes of ice – it looks like the Abominable Snowman has pooped all over the yard!
Well that was a good run. My historically complicated relationship with gravity has returned, literally with a bang.
After an evening out with friends in Montreal I was scurrying down the stairs of the bar to leave and completely wiped out – my friends actually heard me fall from outside. Ouch.
Thankfully I appear more bruised than broken!
Apparently I then decided to apply extreme caution on our snowy walk back to the hotel by walking at an absolute snails pace. My friend Andre kindly offered to give me a piggy back ride (though not as selfless as it sounds, I was a barrier to poutine consumption), which is something I seem to have forgotten from childhood. I completely failed on my end of the piggy – I apparently just hugged his back thinking that was sufficient and when my friends tried to encourage me to jump up to the proper carrying position my tiny hops were hilariously inefficient.
So they resorted to pushing me along while I disapprovingly muttered “Too fast, too fast, too fast.” I’m such a treat when I’m over served.
In other news, I think this really is the height of fashion.
I love the balls the on the forehead look – those Montrealers know style.