a literal taste of Canada...

i am sat cross-legged on my favorite sofa, enjoying the (unofficial) Canadian national dish of a double-double and a maple-glazed donut from Timmy's. 

i have just had a most-Canadian morning. naturally, it began with lots of snow. 

this is the current view from my favorite sofa, and if i lean out the door, you can see that the balcony is almost entirely filled with snow. that the glass is not completely frosted over and i can get said door open means that it is—thankfully—not overly cold for a change. still, you gotta admit... that is a whole lot of snow! 

let me give you an idea of what life is like in Montreal in Winter. street cleaning rules are suspended, except when it snows... and boy does it snow! they go around one neighborhood at a time, putting up little orange signs that are understood to mean that you do NOT park here... not unless you want to spend the following morning wandering around, trying to find the random spot to which your car had been moved. and, as a bonus, there will be a ticket on your windshield for the charge of the totally unsolicited tow. thank you, Montreal. 

there is actually an app to locate your car, and it is usually moved to an adjacent block that was already plowed. plus, there is one major positive to this wacky system. it tends to leave your car free of snow. if you have ever lived in a place where the temperature can easily drop to minus thirty-something (or lower), you will appreciate being saved a trip outdoors. everyone has had that moment where they looked out the window, shrugged, and decided that it was far easier to pay the ticket than to brave the cold to go dig out from under a mountain of snow... she says from personal experience. 

we usually try to park on the side of the street that gets plowed first, then we run out in the middle of the night and move the car to the freshly-cleared side of the road. that was in the olden days. now, there is a curfew in effect from eight PM to five AM every day on account of... well, you know... and the fine for breaking it can run anywhere from several hundred to a few thousand dollars. 

him: i can run out real quick and move so we don't have to worry about doing it tomorrow. 

me: it's not worth it. plus, the last thing we need is for all the neighbors to be staring out their windows, watching you get ticketed for something so stupid. we'd have to move. 

so, we bundled up this morning, and went out to move a mountain of snow. that is when the Canadian-ness began. 

i was in the car at one point, doing that thing when you go back and forth, trying to get out of bank of snow, when i noticed that he had stopped shoveling. he was leaning on the shovel, engaged in friendly banter with a neighbor from across the street. she disappeared into her house and returned a minute later with a shovel, then she began to help clear a path out of the mountain. then another minute or two later, her husband came walking out of the house with a shovel, and he also proceeded to help clear the snow. 

no exaggeration, at one point another neighbor came walking down the street, and we had to assure him that we did not require even more help. the cynical New Yorker in me was, naturally, disturbed by this display, which i expressed to the animator... once the helpful neighbors were gone, that is. 

me: this is why no one takes your country seriously. you're all too polite to ever be viewed as a threat. 

we switched roles, and i ended up chatting (from a safe distance, as my mask was hanging off my ear at this point) with the neighbor lady while her husband shoveled and the animator dealt with the car. turns out that she is also a New Yorker, so we proceeded to make fun of the frustration of dealing with hyper-polite Canadian drivers. 

neighbor lady: he's not allowed to drive when we're in New York. people would be honking their horn at him all the time.
me: same here. he does all the driving Upstate, and i take over when we get past Westchester. otherwise, he'd probably get us both beaten up or shot because he insists on coming to a stop when the light is still yellow. 

neighbor lady: i tell him he needs to be more of an asshole when he drives, but he doesn't listen. 

me: i say the same thing.

then we both laughed for a bit, content in our smug New York assholery. this is when i got a literal taste of Canada. 

you know that thing that happens when you hit the gas, and the tires just spin, sending a massive spray of dirty ice and snow into the air? well, i happened to be standing in the worst possible spot at that moment. when you get a mouthful, Canada tastes terrible. 

him: was it clean snow?
me: no. it was dirty brown stuff.
him: could be worse. it could have been dirty yellow stuff.  

then he had a good laugh while i stood there spitting repeatedly and wiping my face and tongue on my sleeve. 'twould seem that Karma is a canuck. 

the car was eventually clear, so we thanked the neighbors for their help, and we went for a long meandering drive to recharge the battery that had gone flat from neglect as we seldom go anywhere on account of... well, you know. 

we topped off our mini adventure with a trip through the Tim Hortons drive-thru, where i got the most Canadian flavor combo of all: a double-double and a maple donut. then we headed home. 

it is nice having neighbors who are not assholes. with any luck, Canada will one day be able to say the same.