vaneramos | Sand not salt; euchre; Chloey

The moon over Guelph yesterday, 4:56 pm

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The strange weather patterns continue. In the past week Atlantic Canada got hit with three winter storms. So many in quick succession have never been recorded before. A total of 93 cm of snow (37 inches). The weekend storms shut cities down all over the place, but here we fared reasonably well. Driving conditions were only bad for a few hours on Saturday.

Yesterday afternoon I went out to see whether the Sunfire needed to be dug out. Surprisingly not. Wind blowing across the adjacent car lat had sucked the wind past my building, clearing the space under my car. The drifts ended up elsewhere. The landlord's plough man had managed to neatly shovel around it, and that was it.

Guelph uses sand, not salt, which is better for the environment, better for cars. When the air is cold enough, even the main streets remain covered in white (see the photo at the bottom of yesterday's post). Sunday morning there were only vague grey lines marking the tracks of constant traffic up and down York Road. The tires make creaky, muffled sounds in the snow. The car handles like a skittish horse, tumbling along, brakes threatening to seize. It feels like I'm driving in a frontier town, gently invigorating. Today the temperature has risen, so the pavement is starting to show on York Road, Wyndham Street and Gordon Street, but not the side streets. I had to go downtown to pick up refills of both antidepressant and acid reducer.

I finally received a notice that Trillium, the provincial drug plan, has approved my application, but only for the previous year running up to July 31. I didn't realize I had to apply again for the current year. I'll fill out the forms tomorrow. Meanwhile, some of the money from my June and July prescriptions will come back once the government has enough immeasurable time to process the receipts I sent several months ago.

Last night was euchre night at the

-bar. Not many came out, probably because of the cold, but we had enough for one table with one person sitting out each game. I won three dollars. So far I've placed second or third three out of five times I've played. So this social evening almost pays for itself. As long as I don't count the cost of a basket of chicken wings and couple pints of beer.

The bar was much busier than usual on a Sunday night. While we played cards in the green room, an African drum group performed in the main room. It was a fundraiser for Oxfam. I got the hankering for something clean-tasting and ordered a Tom Collins. Between drumming sessions, people danced to all kinds of world music. It almost felt like a summer night.

I stayed after the tournament to chat with two of the other players who are only casual acquaintances. Chloey is transgendered, but I can't quite place him: a man presenting ambiguously but comfortably. He is always tastefully dressed. Last night he surprised me, arriving in a lumberjack jacket. Underneath he wore a gorgeous cotton sweater in a variety of warm colours and textures. I have the impression of someone who went into transition and decided he felt comfortable in the place in between. He is affable with a gentle voice. His mannerisms are graceful but not self-consciously feminine. Chloey is a father of two teenage children.