The New Year's Eve Feast

Oh indeed we got festive. To leave the store I wrapped cut flowers in grocery bags and carried them next to my body, under my coat. Grandma Johnson's candlesticks graced the table. We had spaghetti, Emil had ice cubes in his gingerale, and my water glass did wine-holding duty. We had Aero bars for dessert and listened to Emil's new Don Ross CD. {Thank you, Grandpa.}

Karen says the thermometer dipped to 42-below during the night.
Forty-two below. Whoa.
It's warmed up to minus-26 this afternoon, which eases my mind somewhat since both Scott and Everett are on the road home today. It's still dangerous to be travelling so it'll be a relief when they arrive.
Poor old Everett had to get on the bus at 6 a.m. (poor old Gord, who had to get up at 4 in order to deliver him to the depot) and poor old Cathy had to go out in the cold at 1:55 to pick him up in Saskatoon and take him to her place, where Scott can lasso him on the way past.

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On the way to the city Everett was fascinated by the snow swirling across the highway and filmed it with my little digicam. He's got a way to go before he can narrate like Boris Karloff: