Emil isn't quite ready to part with Grandma.
He and Everett attended the lodge's Christmas party one afternoon last week; I flitted through, both before and after running errands around town.
They had musicians (a fiddler and a piano player) — a visit from Santa — and a pretty good-looking lunch, from what I saw.
It's cold. The radio this morning said 30-below in Saskatoon; 49 below with wind chill. Fortunately the sun shone all day. I put my gloves inside my mittens, consigned my "extreme cold" jacket to the laundry room as not worthy (my arms are cold in it), and dug out Aunt Jean's mink coat. Picture me — three-quarter-length fur coat, one of those tuques with braided ties, black ski pants and white Sorels. The picture of fashion, no, but pretty much warm. Still I didn't try to stay out much longer than from house to car, without a good hood; the wind bites. They were warning this morning to keep your skin covered, as it could freeze in seconds.