This morning the mercury registered minus 33 centigrade.
The Lake is frozen solid across the whole 15 mile length, the smoke from chimneys is ascending in vertical plumes, breath hangs on the air in misty clouds, icicles form on the mouth pieces of parkas, the snow is squeaky to walk on and car tires are rock hard YET inside our house is toasty and warm.
We can walk around without sweaters and live in perfect comfort at an even 21 centigrade.
It is the miracle of a 21st Century Canadian house.
In our attic space are layers of pink, fluffy insulation, in the walls more of the same packed between wooden studs with plastic vapour barriers and dry-wall. Our windows are thermo-pane sealed and double glazed, the pipes never freeze because they come through the concrete floor well beneath the depth of the frost line.
There is the faint hum of our forced air furnace fed by natural gas piped 4,000 kilometres from Alberta. Everything that is electrical comes from hydro electric dams 500 miles to the North and in the fridge are a variety of foods that have been recently shipped from sunny Chile, Israel or Australia.
Yes, the Canadian house is a marvel of innovation and technology that has evolved from the original pioneer's cabin or native wigwam in a matter of two hundred years.
Would I like to go back to those days? Not a chance but seeing such scenes on Christmas cards makes me very thankful for my present humble dwelling.
But I must go and put the kettle on. Downton Abbey is showing on our forty inch T.V. and we wouldn't want to miss a minute of this final season!
Jubilate.
Ian.
