Scat Cat Baby!

Living in the Canadian Prairies does have its good points. Albeit the spring and summer months are never long enough. They do, however, always start with breathtaking sunrises and end with the most fantastic sunsets. Our fall season is beautiful with its kaleidoscope of colors, crisp morning air and warm days. Even the winters in the past few years have never really been that unbearable and the hore frost that appears most mornings always lends its sense of wonder to this vast flat province.

It was +2 last Wednesday I was sure we were on our way to sunnier days. The snow was dripping off the eves. There were squirrels and Hungarian partridge sunning in my backyard. I was whistling Dixie thinking that we were well on our way to Spring! My garden books were out and I was making plans for my new backyard. I even took my four-legged chickadee down to the beauty parlor to get a much needed new doo. It was short and cute and coiffed.

Obviously in my one brain cell moment, I had forgotten that we live in Saskatchewan. It is famous for the weather changing in a mere 5 minutes. A new blast of arctic air set in that very night which set us back to our now familiar - 45 degree weather that we have been privy to for the past several weeks.

It’s starting to take its toll on ALL the chicks in the coop.

Brandee, the four legged chickadee has been hiding in her bed shivering since the new hairdo. She has only made brief appearances to eat and in a very unchick-like way, snort like a goose at me.

Quincy, my 3 year old chickadee, has serious cabin fever. I’m not sure how one acquires that malfunction at 3, but I’m pretty sure that sticking out your tongue regularly when asked to NOT do something and jumping incessantly across all the furniture is only a symptom of that condition.

Venturing outside in this mess is not something that I revel in either. I just don’t find the necessity in wrapping everyone up in toques and scarves and ski-pants, and mitts, and sweats and tights and turtlenecks; let the cruiser warm up for ½ an hour to wrestle with a cranky cold 3 year old, a frozen car seat and a chilly-nilly frou frou that needs to be carried across the tundra to the car JUST to get out of the coop for a few moments of sanity

I’m thinking the latter is a small price to pay for wanting to now poke my eyes out with a lego.

So instead of venturing outside, we have watched the Aristocats 56 times, and I now dream about Duchess and Thomas O’Malley in my sleep. We have read all the books, put all the puzzles together, and are in the playroom pretending that we are at Mardi Gras. Oh yes, it’s a carnival around here.

The forecast for today is only -30, WOOT WOOT! I’m hoping that the winter madness is about to end.

In the meantime, we have started the Aristocats for the 57th time and donned our high-heels.

Does it get any better than that?! Not a chance, so scat baby scat!