Don’t mess with Mother Nature

In the days between the mini-thaw at the end of March, with its week of sunny days and warm temperatures, my daughter rediscovered her passion for being outside. After a winter of minimal outdoor play, Gabrielle has grasped the notion that freedom and space are much more plentiful outdoors and can accommodate her desire to ride around in her plastic car or walk down the street and see her friend. It's great. The dog gets more exercise, I get more exercise, and the World's Most Demanding Toddler gets what she wants, which is always infinitely easier to deliver when what she wants a) is healthy and beneficial and b) fits my schedule and itinerary.

So, off we trundle down the street, in spring jackets and rubber boots or running shoes. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. And then the sky goes grey, a chill wind starts blowing and snow begins to fall from the sky, gently at first, but with more and more ferocity as the afternoon light slowly starts to drain out of the day.

What the H-E-double hockey sticks is going on here?

It's the new Canadian winter. Whereas once, the first heavy snow of the year fell in November or early December, the serious winter-long snow is only coming in after Christmas. Yes, we had snow before the big day at the end of last year, but it was soon melted and golf courses were taking bookings on Dec. 23.

We had a pretty typical, if sort of warm, January, a cold February and a snowy March. With more winter weather to start this week, we probably haven't even seen the last of it.

What's worse (in the short term, of course,) is that even though as I write this, there are two inches of snow on the ground – but you can't tell that to my daughter, who is making for the back door and opening it so she can go play outside. She's not wearing a jacket, a hat or even boots. She thinks the deck is dry enough to walk on in socks.

Silly kid.

"Only daddy's allowed to walk on the wet deck in his stocking feet, baby girl," I said. Then I hear my wife holler from the kitchen.

I rethink my previous statement to the gifted little mimic.

"Not even Daddy's allowed out on the wet deck in stocking feet, honey."

Somehow, I feel better.

Also dryer.

Even sillier is the idea that it's probably going to be May by the time all this snow clears and I can finally take the winter tires off my car. Even worse, it'll be even longer before the grass dries enough so that my daughter's every tumble doesn't leave her covered in mud. Maybe we'll bypass the rainy season and go right to summer, as we have in roughly half of the last eight years. Maybe the summer won't be unbearably hot and humid, as it was in 2005.