CHRISTMAS IN DRYDEN - December 13, 2017

'CHRISTMAS IN DRYDEN: The rattling and grumbling of my beloved wakes me, but the air is frigid beyond the edge of my duvet, so I snuggle down with Manny for a few more winks. Then the scraping of metal against snow wakes me to the realization that the world has gone white and my hubby is engaged in his favourite pastime of snow shoveling. Next I am wakened by my hubby with icy hands and feet snuggling under the duvet with us. He whispers tenderly in my ear, "Brrr, it's cold in here. The furnace is out!" Awhile later the rocking and rolling of my home tells me we are mobile, and after another doze, I hear male voices outside discussing a failed electrical motherboard. A strange man then leans over my bed and when I crack an eye, he speaks. "Sorry, I just need to adjust the thermostat." The next visitor to my bedroom also speaks. "I am making a mess of your floor" to which I reply, "No worries, I have a mop." When next I wake we are back in the snowdrift where we began and the furnace is purring away at my feet. God bless my resourceful husband. The snow continues; 12" in Dryden when we arrive at my son’s home. The house is ringed by snowmobile tracks, and with the snow curling from the eves and lights glowing in the window, it looks just like a gingerbread house. The tree boughs sag under thick coats of white powder clinging to the frozen rain that preceded it; a Christmas card winter wonderland. Fresh snow glitters, falling like a diamond curtain round as the light of day fades to evening. We are off to celebrate our Christmas together at the Mystic Grill restaurant on Lake Wabigoon. The roadsides are piled high with snow, and in a burst of young buck exuberance, David guns the truck engine and sends us spinning round the parking lot and fishtailing up the road. In the backseat, Amanda and I squeal like schoolgirls as snow sprays up and glistens in the multi-colored holiday lights warming the soft black of an early December night.'

 The rattling and grumbling of my beloved wakes me, but the air is frigid beyond the edge of my duvet, so I snuggle down with Manny for a few more winks. Then the scraping of metal against snow wakes me to the realization that the world has gone white and my hubby is engaged in his favourite pastime of snow shoveling. Next I am wakened by my hubby with icy hands and feet snuggling under the duvet with us. He whispers tenderly in my ear, "Brrr, it's cold in here. The furnace is out!" Awhile later the rocking and rolling of my home tells me we are mobile, and after another doze, I hear male voices outside discussing a failed electrical motherboard. A strange man then leans over my bed and when I crack an eye, he speaks. "Sorry, I just need to adjust the thermostat." The next visitor to my bedroom also speaks. "I am making a mess of your floor" to which I reply, "No worries, I have a mop." When next I wake we are back in the snowdrift where we began and the furnace is purring away at my feet. God bless my resourceful husband.

The snow continues; 12" in Dryden when we arrive at my son’s home. The house is ringed by snowmobile tracks, and with the snow curling from the eves and lights glowing in the window, it looks just like a gingerbread house. The tree boughs sag under thick coats of white powder clinging to the frozen rain that preceded it; a Christmas card winter wonderland.

Fresh snow glitters, falling like a diamond curtain round as the light of day fades to evening. We are off to celebrate our Christmas together at the Mystic Grill restaurant on Lake Wabigoon. The roadsides are piled high with snow, and in a burst of young buck exuberance, David guns the truck engine and sends us spinning round the parking lot and fishtailing up the road. In the backseat, Amanda and I squeal like schoolgirls as snow sprays up and glistens in the multi-colored holiday lights warming the soft black of an early December night.

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