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remembering that halloween comes with snow on the ground and children in costumes bought three sizes too big to cover the jackets they wear underneath.

remembering that they who talk about each-one-is-unique snowflakes only want to have a platitude to recite to bickering kids, because those only fall when the weather is -25 and lonely and the frozen kind of still and who wants to catch snowflakes in that?

remembering the purple skies of winter, when the lights reflect up off the snow and back off the clouds to make a colour that nature never intended.

remembering that the north wind is a polite guest, bringing with her all kinds of gifts we didn’t want – the grey and the dark and the stifled shrieks of children who have been shut inside for far too long.

remembering that hockey starts in october and ends in may and in between it’s impossible not to know who’s winning – the boys remember, wishing they were out on the ice to score that goal, and the girls remember, keeping careful count of the blacked eyes and broken teeth their boys (by way of not being on the ice) have been spared.

remembering the vitriol of our complaints against the cold and the wind and the dark and the snow, and remembering too the vehemence of the pride we harbour for living through them each year.