Spring Forward

It's been an unsettling winter here in Ottawa. Half as much snow as last year. Mild. Grey skies.

Yesterday, Saturday, we had cold rain.

The winter haters love it, but I've missed the cold and the snow. It's really messed with my identity as a Canadian. Thrown me off my timeline, too. I feel like I only just stopped riding my bike to the pond for a swim. And I'm already stressed about the coming forest fire season out West. And East. And Central. And North. Last summer there were a couple of days I didn't even ride my bike to the pond, the air quality was so bad here in Ottawa. Other days I did, anyway.

I was in Las Vegas in August once and I couldn't believe people actually live there. I could feel the moisture being sucked out of my body every time I stepped outside, like walking around a 400 degree oven. Inside was worse. Dank and moldy. I got dysentery in Las Vegas, like I got dysentery in Mexico, like I got dysentery in Venezuela.

Americans terrify me. So in love with the afterlife they ignore the real one.

But I'm working on live and let live, putting aside ego when I catch it getting in my way, reminding myself over and over and over again: It's not all up to me. And if Poilievre is elected Prime Minister and tries to steal the Canada Pension Plan I'll take it to the mat then.

She's a complete fucking loon but we should thank Danielle Smith for giving us all a heads up because the only reason Pierre Poilievre is pretending not to support Alberta taking its cut now is because his fascist sugar daddies expect him to deliver the whole enchilada to them later.

Not your gramps' Conservatives.