jodi's weblog

jodi's weblog

 

canadians love to talk about the weather category archive

fog

bridge in the fog

Posted by jodi on January 31, 2013 at 10.43am

blizzard ’71

Found in a box of old newspapers, magazines and naval flags (?) given to me when my grandparents’ house was sold and emptied out: a London Free Press special supplement chronicling the massive blizzard that began on January 26, 1971 and raged for six days before people were finally able to get outdoors to begin digging out. Hundreds of cars were completely buried on the highway and kids were trapped in their schools. The area hit was (and still is) mostly rural and the people there are used to their fair share of snow, so they don’t call in the Canadian Forces for nothing (it’s not Toronto) (low blow?).

Below are a few images from the booklet. You can see scans of the whole thing in this flickr set.

blizzard '71 front cover

blizzard011

blizzard014

blizzard026

blizzard035

Posted by jodi on November 10, 2012 at 7.27pm

detroit, through the windshield

detroit, through the windshield

On one of those brisk fall mornings where even though rain is falling, the light is the brightest, most clear light you see all year.

Taken with the Harinezumi digital.

Posted by jodi on October 16, 2012 at 11.19am

4:00am insomnia blogging

There is a smell being drawn in from outside by the bedroom window fan, a fresh and not-fresh, green brown slimy smell, like algae. Nerve endings buzz, high on cough syrup, and restless legs twist in the bed but don’t want to stand up and walk around, either. This is (hope) the last of several risings, sitting upright in the dark to suck on cough lozenges. The stomach rebels at the sickly sweetness of those, but the throat demands them. In the late afternoon the heat wave gave way to torrents of rain then curled in close again, holding that moisture, keeping it warm so that the only relief comes from stretching out bare feverish feet in front of a fan that sucks great algae stinking breaths from the hot wet outside. I feel like I’m living in the South again, where damp settles into houses and never goes away and things slowly rot and you don’t even notice the scent of mould in sheets, in clothes, in hair, in everything until you go away somewhere and open up your suitcase and the stench hits you and you wonder, is that what my life smells like?

It almost wouldn’t be a surprise at all to wake up and find the house overgrown with kudzu, like in a story. Or a dream.

Posted by jodi on July 19, 2011 at 3.29am

in which she indulges in a little bit of canada’s favourite pastime

Snow in April is hardly unheard of in Southwestern Ontario, but way down here in the Sun Parlour we’re usually the only ones not getting it. So this is a nice surprise so long as it goes away quickly, right? I may have spoken too soon this morning when I told somebody I’d rather have half a metre of fresh new snow than one more day of those 65km/hr winds. It seems some of this snow is sticking.

On the forsythia:

snow, april 18

On the rhubarb, garlic and chives (yes, they’re too close together, I KNOW; that rhubarb is moving this year, I promise):

snow, april 18

On the tulips!

snow, april 18

On the irises:

snow, april 18

Posted by jodi on April 18, 2011 at 12.09pm

cleaning snow off the car

From the vantage point of the passenger seat. Or, as Peter put it, “is that so you can show the internet how helpful you are?”. (FYI when there is lots of snow I help. Today was not much snow).

Shot with the Harinezumi digital.

Posted by jodi on January 24, 2011 at 2.15pm

photos

A busy and at times frustrating day, with too much emailing, too much running around, not enough progress, and a knitting machine showing up in the mail right at a time when it was impossible to drop everything and set it up and play with it RIGHT THEN. Started rainy and cold, turned to sunny and just on the cusp of warm enough for a t-shirt, then the winds rolled in like banshees.

fallen

pink

riverside

walker power building

Posted by jodi on April 26, 2010 at 8.53pm

seven sleeps

empty niche

Today was a day of keeping busy to stave off homesickness. It’s Peter’s birthday, and it’s been an awfully long time since we were apart on his birthday. It’s snowing again.

All of my student work is photographed, most of the marks are calculated, some of the feedback for seventy-six drawing and printmaking projects is typed up. Heading into All Work Mode to bust this out over the weekend. After that: Unicorns and Glitter!

Posted by jodi on April 9, 2010 at 10.53pm

spring

The ice isn’t off the pond yet, but the snow person has long since disappeared.

monastery pond

Posted by jodi on March 22, 2010 at 6.12pm

prediction

melting

When the ice has melted just enough to allow the shrinking snow person to slip into the pond and away, it will be spring.

Posted by jodi on March 12, 2010 at 7.10pm