I was just e-mailing Jim and something hit me. An idea. Really and truly I go through hell. But I may have one of the greatest senses of humour in the history of mankind. Perhaps that is why I'm on this earth. It's not that difficult when you have relatives like mine. Hello. I can tell a funny story about every single one my relatives. Every single one. I haven't even come close yet to writing my memories down, but they are stored up my brain and they will be written some day. I've really, really tried to write serious stuff. It's beyond me. I see the good and funny side of everything. And I tell you, I've probably done more silly stuff that any person in the history of mankind. Not that I wanted to. It just seems to happen. Those memories will never be written. First of all not a soul would believe them and second of all I'd be put away for the rest of my life.

Thank you Kev for talking to me, thank you Bob for e-mailing me I'm looking forward to receiving more pics. Thank you Ger and Justin for being strange. And everyone else. You keep me alive and well. I can't ask for much more than that. Hugs and kisses to you all.

It seems this is the only picture I've got of Kevin and Anita's place. So blot out the people pictured in the foreground and imagine how nice it is to visit them coming from downtown Toronto. I love visiting Bob and Lorraine and they have such a nice corner lot, it's amazing. And Jim and Brenda have the best location in Cranbrook I think. When I'm in Cranbrook that is where I want to be. And of course Ger and Karri have the most extraordinary backyard and location possible in town. I love it and I feel so comfortable there. But that is civilization. .

When I come out there for a week I don't want civilization. I'm in the midst of it every day of my life and Kev's place is there where there is no civilization. In fact I'm not sure there are life forms. I can remember that place and it looked like a hillbilly heaven. Anita has done the most amazing job. And Kev of course with the help of Roy on the house and the boys I'm sure. How many persons like perfection? Not me. I'm sixty-one, hopefully that gives me a little bit of credibility. I feel at home in many places, I'm not that hard to please, but when I walk into Anita's home I feel at home. I notice that too with Bob and Lorraine and Jim and Brenda and Ger and Karri (no one is ever going to accuse me of favouritsm). If someone was going to put a shotgun to my head and ask where would I like to spend the last evening of my life before my brains were splattered across the wall, I might say Kevin and Anita's, although I'd certainly consider other relatives too:

I might not consider Ger though. Can you imagine? "hi Ger" "whom are youm?" "your uncle, remember the only person in the history of mankind who can actually put up with you and who thinks you are cute and kind of funny, I'm living with you for the rest of your life" "what day is this?" "the first day"

And then there Jim of whom I'd have to set some perameters before I moved in: "don't talk about the Navy, or anything actually" "what about my hunting experiences?" "above all not that that" "quad trips?" "nope" "fishing expeditions?" "boring" "climbing the highest mountain with a grizzly after me?" "yawn" "using my expertise in cooking a great meal" "now your talking"

We all know Kev is perfect of course. I presume so: "Kev?" "what?" "far be it for me to criticize you since you've lived here for thirty years or so, but may I ask why you are naked and carrying a shotgun around the house?" "I'm looking for noisy rodunts" "Kev, it's cold out and rodunts don't like the cold and now that you mention it maybe they do, I'll keep a chart and track them from day to day, and if I can find a trend then.....why are you pointing that shotgun at me?"

This is either a mirage or Justin is walking across the Gobi Desert dressed like a guerrilla carrying an Uzi. I couldn't tell you where he might be headed but if he's on his way to pick up a dead duck, it doesn't seem quite worth it to me.

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Not having duck-hunted myself, and knowing Roy, Jim, Ger, and Kev I've always assumed that it involved, more or less, shooting towards the flock of ducks, watching one of them fall from the sky, having a dog retrieve said dead duck and then resuming the party. I know Ger perhaps takes duck hunting a touch more serious than others might but to send his only begotten son off to retrieve a dead duck that fell a mile and a half away, across a bleak Martian landscape seems rather heartless to me.

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"Dad, I have to what?" "go get that dead duck" "why me?" "do you see a Golden Retreiver around?" "no" "guess what?" "I haven't had lunch yet Dad and besides when I get back I won't look like a poster boy from Field and Stream" "Son, sometimes one has to sacrifice for the good of...........whatever" "What are you going to do while I'm trudging across that vast plain on an empty stomach?" "catch a few rays" "catch a few rays?" "and keep an eye out for oncoming flocks of ducks of course"

Ger

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Is it my imagination or does Ger look unhappy in the above pic. Although he is cute when he's angry I know why he's mad. Only I would know this of course: I'm going kill Uncle Don the next time I see him. Why am I wearing these stupid clothes. Am I handsome enough honey? Let's take a break here. A question: whom want's to duck hunt with Ger, raise your hands. Justin raise your hand, your the son. Anyone else? Well Ger it's you and Justin, I'm tremendously surprised that not a soul on this earth and no species within 15 light years away want's to hunt duck with you. I'm shocked.

October 30

So it's Kev's birthday on Monday. He thinks there should be a national holiday in his honour but I explained to him that he's not quite that renowned. He was born in 1960, which brings back memories to me. Coincidentally or not, 1960 was the year that Alfred Hitchcock's film Psycho was released, in my opinion THE scariest movie of all time. And Patsy Cline released 'I Fall to Pieces', one of my favourite songs of all time. John F. Kennedy was elected president, and the Pittsburgh Pirates beat the dreaded New York Yankees which I remember as if it was yesterday.

And so Kev asked me if I remembered the day he was born. I had to say I didn't. Hello, every time I turned around their was another new arrival. "Mom?" "yes Donnie" "who's having a kid today, Marlene or Anna?" "Anna" "when is Marlene due?" "any day now" "so we've got James and Gerald, I presume they are going to call this one Kevin" "how did you guess?" "instinct, and I bet the next one will be called Julie" "what if it's a boy?" "then it will be Julius" "let's hope and pray it's a girl". "Mom, Kevin will be the youngest son and he will have to put up with two older, rambunctious brothers, will he be able to hold his own?" "I have a feeling he will". I'm afraid to do the arithmetic, I really am. Kevin is going to be forty-six? Where's the noose? Jim and Ger will be fifty in a few years? Where's the rafter to hang the noose from? Sorry, I can't allow that to happen. Bob seems to me to be about forty-two tops.

On Jim's fiftieth birthday in a few years we are going to have to do something special (no, not commit mass suicide). An outdoorsy thing. It will be spring so I'll only need to bring the woollen socks, woollen underwear, woollen scarves, and woollen mittens for you three. Kev can suppy the generator so that the heart defibulator, self-contained breathing apparatus and e.e.g. diagnostics can be administered to you guys on a moments notice. And Ger can supply the flatbed truck that is big enough to hold three wheel chairs, the above-mentioned medical equipment, a M.A.S.H. unit, an ambulance, and six cases of Ex-lax. Since it will be Jim's birthday he won't have to bring anything. And he will forget that it is his birthday anyway.

Scorpios: "one shouldn't take Scorpios lightly....there's no fluff or chatter about Scorpios...the curiosity of Scorpios is immeasurable...they have keen sense of intuition...they are in the ultimate control of their destiny..some may find them overbearing and self-destructive but that is the beauty of the Scorpio..fearless, Scorpios rarely lose, they just keep on going...but they are complex and secretive....it's best not to bet against a Scorpio." I couldn't have said it better, have a great birthday Kev.

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And Kristin is going to be a Mommy any day now. I'm awaiting with bated breath receiving pics from Ger on the new arrival. If I was any more more great I'd be a stupendous uncle.

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(editor's note: uncle don thanks Kev for being a good sport and promises he will also pick on Ger and Jim on their next birthday. And anyone else that comes to mind.)

Darwin

I don't like it when Kev acts dumb. It means something is afoot if I come down there at Christmas, or he actually he is dumb. Fifty-fifty. I can do the math. And I know he not dumb. And Jim is capable of coming up with annoying things to do to me if I come down there for a week. And I haven't even mentioned Ger yet. Perhaps I made the mistake of treating them with too much respect and they will try to get back at me and do something silly. I'm thinking of Charles Darwin, imagine it: "hi Jim" "huh?" "do you have any comments on Darwin's "orgins of the species of man?" "huh?" Well let's ask Ger: "what's your take on 'the tendency of species to form varieties?"" "it's a good idea". We'll ask this cute person here, Kev is it? Do you think the "perpetuation of varieties and species" includes you three? "in which species are you talking about?" "you'm" "me'm?" "you three must be a species" "sorry, we came from Roy and Anna and they came from a distant planet in another solar system". "ah, that explains everything".

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(editor's note: uncle don knows he is going to pay for the above. He will try to stay away from Ger when Ger has a welding torch in hand)

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Little known facts about Uncle Don:

He can be crabby in the morning. Which makes no sense. Dad was happy in the morn, Mom too, Marlene, Roy and Bob , no prob. I get up 5 am and one would think by the time I arrive at work at 8 am I'd be over it. Not so.

He is a creature of habit during the work week. It must be a tremendous shock to everyone but yes I am. You could add up all the other creatures of habit in the world, multiply that by two, add a million, and you still wouldn't be a creature of habit like me.

He is afraid of doctors. True, but I'm afraid they are going to tell me I'm healthy. I couldn't take it, because I'm know I'm not and they'll think it's all in the mind. And when I kick the bucket in six or seven months they'll say: "oops, I guess I was wrong". Could happen.

He is afraid of flying. As I get older, less and less. Being in a cylinder hurtling through the air has never been my my idea of fun. I've flown in small planes of every type working for HBOG and Dome and they weren't fun either. Especially when the pilot kissed the earth when he landed.

He remembers almost everyone that has been nice to him over the years (excluding family). And that includes a Finnish chick in Majorca, Spain to a person on acid in Rocky Mtn House to someone who drove me across Canada in a VW and took me fishing on his father's boat out of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia and maybe (the most precious of all) being with homeless person's like me and living the experience. My family can debate it all they want, but it was an amazing experience.

He forgets completely who hasn't to nice to him. There has been a thousand but I can't remember one of them.





05. He remembers family.

Most people, upon reaching puberty, don't change that much over the years. Let me dispel a myth: it can happen. Now that I'm over it, I can await with glee to see how the rest of the family copes with turning sixty. Now that I'm sixty-one I'm just permanently despondent, not suicidal any more.

When one is sixty-one, one can look at the bright side of life: in the middle ages, people only lived to be forty at most. I'm looking forward to receiving my first old-age pension cheque in four years. I'm going to use it to buy a noose and hang myself from a rafter.

No one who reads this blog realizes how important letter-writing was at one time. I remember receiving letters from Mom and Marlene. And they were good writers. If anyone is wondering where I get my ability to write from, you don't have to go too far. I was so tremendously homesick in Calgary for a while there and Mom and Marlene's letters were a godsend. Same writing style and the same sentiments. So this blog is just me carrying on the tradition and hopefully writing stuff that they would approve of.

Bob

from bob: We're back on Tuesday afternoon...we're having a great time. The first week was in Poland, saw Auchwitz and Berkinow (depressing) and Kracow (very beautiful). It reminds me a bit of the 50's in Creston, not everything is paved yet, although the main roads are, and except for the vehicles, etc. People still ride bicycles quite a bit, and each town and city has a town square with shops all around, very beautiful.

And we've been in London for a few days now...saw "Les Mis" at the Queens theatre (awesome), its been playing here for 20 years. Saw Big Ben, the Pallace, the London Eye, etc. We're taking a tour bus around the city today to see anything we missed. Its raining now and then but not too bad. We're in this bed & breakfast which is very nice.

We've taken a few hundred pic's, I'll go through them when we get back and send some to you.

When Bob sends me pics you will see them to. I could be wrong but I think "my" family want's to see them to. I assume that.

Anita

If anyone wants me to be in a good mood, take a pic of Anita without me. Anita is a special person. When you are friend of Anita, you are a special friend indeed.

I presume I love the Storm family and I am one of them. We are all too busy, and Kevin thinks he his too (even though we all know isn't) . Anita has completey made me feel comfortable out there.

I couldn't feel comfortable with just anyone. I'm pretty sure Anita couldn't either. I feel comfortable with everyone but it's nice to have someone whom thinks the same as I do. Odd. Persons are probably thinking: What? I think Anita and Kev know I sat out there in the rain and couldn't force myself to go bed.

I presume I'm a fairly smart person. So I'm hoping that Bob will forgive me if I spent time at Kevin's at Christmas. Not that i'm doing it. If it happened. You've got the best family and friends in the history of mankind and so do I: Jim, Ger and Kev.

Jimmy

We can all think of a thousand stories. May I just bring up one?" "jim, I'm going to inventory something, somewhere, do you want to come?" "okay" So I had to find this remote wellhead somewhere. I thought I could make it. Of course it was raining. As my job as as inventory accountant I was well used to get used to getting stuck, but this was a challenge. Stuck, well we have to walk back. We walked for a long way and finally found a farm. I think I got Jim to go ask them if they could help us. Think the movie Deliverance. But we got this tractor to pull us out. It worked. We got the car unstuck and continued on our way and found a major highway. And then we had a flat tire and the spare tire was flat. "Jim, go knock on that door over yonder and ask them if we can use the phone to call CAA". He did and we was rebuffed. So after walking for miles and getting a pull from a tractor in the middle of nowhere, here we were standing on Highway #2 and a thousand cars going by and nobody would stop to help us. Finally someone did, but I've never been so discouraged about mankind as I was that day.

Uncle Don's top ten list of thing's he loves about Jim:

10. If one add's up the trillion pluses and the trillion minuses, Jim ends up being a plus (using creative accounting).

09. He once made me a big martini (chilled and the perfect amount of vermouth).

08. He's cute (if one is blind in one eye and can't see out of the other).

07. This is getting difficult, it was easy to do the top ten for Kev and Ger because they are tremendously annoying, but Jim is actually kind of nice, in an annoying kind of way. Okay I got it: He takes after Roy.

06. Not that that is a problem mind you: "where are we Kev and Ger?" "uncle don, we are talking to Jim and Roy, in the middle of boredom heaven" "is that a good thing?" "it is a good a good thing if you are on speed"

05. "can Jim last a day without a nap?" "are you kidding, he can't last an hour without a nap" "how does he nap at work?" " he finds ways"

04. "so I can't put anything on the blog that might annoy persons, and I love Jim, how do put it delicatley that he's boring?" "tell him he's stupid, annoying and doesn't have a brain" "Ger I can't do that, he'll be annoyed at me" "but the delicate sounds so much better then". "okay".

03. Why am I spending more time on Jim than Ger and Kev. Because I might hurt his fragile ego. Can we talk about this? You can talk to anyone in the history of the Storms/Douvilles and I don't think anyone would describe Jim as having a fragile ego. Tip: don't bring up his navy days. If you do then be prepared for hell. And if he get's talking about submarines, head for the hills.

02. I'm kidding of course Jim. We all look up to you. With respect. You can dodder too if you must.

01. Maybe Jim is the most special one of all time, maybe.

Wow

For sure everyone in Creston will recognize this picture. Ger took it during Justin's and his recent goose hunting trip. What a picture! When I first looked at it, I thought: 'that looks like geese walking along the shore there'. Of course it isn't I presume, although stranger things have happened in the Storm Clan.

Top ten things (out of order I'm sure) I love about Ger:

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10. I'm not going to be bored in his presence.

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09. He likes beer too.

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08. He's a typical virgo, angst, doubt and looks inward like crazy. That's my boy!

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07. He can sing like a lark and knows the words.

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06. He's the funniest person in the history of mankind when he's explaining to me Karri's canoe exploits and trying to talk me into canoing with her next year in the back of a van.

.05. Am I halfway there?: Ger's not perfect: Hello. He's a Storm. If one used a yardstick to measure Storm's, Ger would be on one end of it. The other end would be boredom, and that is not my thing.

.04. I feel comfortable around Ger. I don't get many opporunities to be with him and it is a special thing when I do.

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03. I'm feeling uncomfortable talking about Ger like this. Because I'm sure he would be. No he wouldn't. I'm slightly biased of course, but no, he's not bad. I wouldn't put him in the category of 'great". He's up there.

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02. He's got two of the greatest kids of history of mankind; and

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01. And he is the special of the special, maybe.

Field and Stream

This picture looks like one out of Field and Stream magazine. But it can't be, that's our Justin. Amazing, amazing pic Ger! I should just stop here and publish this without further comment.

Ha! Not much chance of that happening.

Justin looks like he just stepped out of an Eddie Bauer catalogue. I had the odd idea that there was a touch of deprivation involved in goose hunting. The tent you see there is just to keep the booze hidden from the geese overhead, Ger and Justin actually slept on 20 inch thick foamies in the back of Ger's truck.

"Dad" "yes Justin?" "why do I have pose to for this picture, I wanna shoot some geese?" "be patient my son, I need the perfect light"

On writing and other things

So I'm in sitting in front of the computer and I'm poised to write something brilliant. If not brilliant, at least remotely interesting. I've got the tv on football, I'm listening to bluegrass music, my coffee is at hand, and my mind is totally and completely blank. Writer's block? I've got thinking block.

I'm looking out my window and I see my bike locked to the fence and it looks so lonely. The poor thing, it needs me to ride it. But then no writing. Now I'm looking at my guitar. It looks lonely too, it needs strumming, but then no writing. Now I see people walking around outside. They look happy, why wouldn't they be, they are outside. I need a walk, but then no writing. Now I'm looking at Ger's work of art hanging on the wall. The intricacy of it, I'm not writing.

I'm thinking of Robin's garlic crop. He planted 350 lbs. of it yesterday and he's sold most of it already. Sean and Aimee (Gail's two youngest) helped him plant the garlic. I should write an article on garlic. Unfortunately I know nothing about garlic so it would be a short one.

I seem to know a lot about everything that is boring and very little about anything that is interesting. I could write a book about biking in Toronto but everyone would doze off while reading the prologue. I could write a book about Kevin and me canoeing but if you've been in a canoe with him lately you know how boring that would be. I could write a cookbook with Jim on the art of cooking big game properly. Unfortunately he's still trying to find some. I could write about Roy and his naps, but I'd fall asleep.

I almost never get nostalgic, but I do look back with fondness on my first ski trip, to Sunshine Village with family. "Okay Uncle Don you'll be okay, you've got Roy and Leo on either side of you on this triple chair, you won't get hurt". "Okay". I ended up being okay except I sent both Roy and Leo off into a snowbank when we got off the chair. At that point in time it was every man for himself and I guess I needed a lot of elbow room. Gail and Julie were the only ones who had enough patience to get me down the Strawberry run.

The above isn't a pic of my bike although I can see the benefits of having one like it. The uzi would definitely come in handy. Did anyone watch the Loafs and Flames last night? Boy did Mats look good. I did not know that he has scored more OT goals than anyone else. I took the time to e-mail the Edmonton Eskimo front office to give condolences to them for missing the playoffs for the first time in gawd knows how long. I actually remember Hugh Campbell playing football. And I went to Stampede Wrestling. To see Sweet Daddy Siki. I enjoyed it completely. I also remember sitting in The Highlander with Glen Higa, Ken, and Bob Fujino.

But it's impossible for a person to be treated any better than from Jim and Ger on a canoe trip. I try not to think about it, and Justin, and Colin. And everyone. Anita, Karri-women, Brenda. Ty. Jen, Shawna. You will note that Kev's name is missing. He doesn't treat me with the respect I deserve. I have some theories on this:

Uncle Don's Top Ten Theories on Kev:

10. He thinks he should be #1 which isn't going to happen when I'm around.

09. Other than him being able to tally dart scores, I can't see why he exists.

08. He loves to hide under Justin's truck at least once a year.

07. He gets every quip I say and that is not an easy thing to do. One has to be really strange to do that.

06. His renowned reputation of hatred towards cats is unfounded. He loves cats as long as they don't do anything.

05. His kneecaps should be put in a hall of fame. And his legs. Hello.

04. He could be smarter than all of us put together (and so could Ger). I have really intelligent relatives. And Julie. And everyone, amazing really.

03. Well maybe not. I didn't start out this blog way back when using the Beverly Hillbillies as examples for no reason.

02. If he going is going to want to canoe with me, he'd better crank it up. I know we went where others didn't go. That is not even close to being enough.

01. The Storms/Douvilles are special. I think Kev is special among the special. Maybe.

The Uncle Don brain

I wrote this: "I'm thinking at the moment. Possibly Kev is the only person I would phone from across Canada to try cheer up. Everyone thinks they can do is job. I know this, I've never seen a more intelligent person. If I know Kevin, everything is completely under control. And when I see Ger. I see complete brilliance". I don't mean it. Are you kidding?

First of all, I phoned Kev at work because it doesn't cost me dime and so why not and as regards Ger's brilliance: he's cute, he's loud, and he is annoying. Brilliant he isn't. He might be, I hope I didn't let the cat out of the bag.

I have a tip for future uncle's: Do not go anywhere near Jim, Ger and Kev. You will be ignored completely and if you have a brain, try to keep it hidden because it will be compleletly useless around them.

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For those Storm/Douvilles that have one (the majority of us), the pic denotes the parts of brain that are important. So if any one of us goes crazy we'll have a name for it. My personal favourite is the temporal lobe. That's where my sudden urges to hug nieces comes from. And don't forget the occipital lobe. That where I get the impulsive urge to kill Kev and rid mankind of an annoying person.

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The Primary Visual Area of my brain is not that great. It's not bad, but I presume that's where I get the urge to carry a chainsaw and look for persons to decapitate. Thank goodness my visual area isn't that great.

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But I've got the Somatic Sensory Cortex to fall back on. "Ah" i say. My spandex goes good with my Cortex. They have to match or there could be problems.

And finally there is the Frontal Lobe. That is where my love of family comes from. That is my favourite lobe.

the neighbourhood

Once in a great while a do attend a neighbourhood event. Last weekend the 99th Great Sackville/Wellesley Fall Fair and Dog Show was held. It wasn't my idea but the neighbour asked me if I would judge the pickles. I mentioned to him that I knew nothing about pickles other than they came from cucumbers. "they do? well then you are an expert, be at Riverside Park at noon tomorrow"

I live in an up-scale neighbourhood so I assumed pickles wouldn't be too important in the scheme of things. In fact I presumed their would one or two pickles, or maybe three, I would have to judge. So I was taken somewhat aback when I walked into the park and saw a sign on the biggest tent which read: The Pickle Palace. Oh oh.

I meekly walked up to someone sitting behind a table and said: "I'm the pickle judge". "whom?" "the pickle judge". "do you have credentials?" "er, no my neighbour asked me to show up at this time and judge the pickles". "what do you know pickles?" "they were once cucumbers and they come in jars?" "ah you are an expert, here's your judge badge, and the mickey of vodka you will need to get through it ". "I don't need a mickey of vodka" "trust me, just trust me you will".

I love a slice of pickle with my grilled cheese sandwich. And perhaps with a hamburger. Booth #1: :Ah, you have pickles, where are they from?" "my balcony" "ah, you haven't travelled a long a way" "let me taste one, mmh, very good" Booth #2: "how are you?" "my pickles are peppered" "peppered?" "your local?" "no I'm from Pitquane" "so you have Pitquane pickled peppers?" "they will knock your socks off" "I"m sure, I'll taste one". Booth #3: "are these pickled peppers? "no, these are peppered pickles". "by the way what is the difference between a pickled pepper and a peppered pickle?" "I have no idea but taste one, you are the judge" (vodka drink #1). Booth #4: "why are these called potent peppered pickles?" "because my pappy pete picked them" "that doesn't explain the potent" "taste them" (hork, cough, cough, vodka drink #2) Booth #5: "ah petite petter pickers" "no these are small peckered pickles, judge, taste one" "ah delicate but yet poignant" "aren't they, they are pickled testicle's of porcupines" (hack, hork, cough, barf, vodka slurp #3) Booth #6: "do you have a pickle, I love pickles, I'd date a pickle" "I have pickles" "these are petite pickles" " "I have a sudden urge to eat, can I eat them all and give you the blue ribbon?" "aren't they good, they are petite pickled penguins pads (Vodka finish it up #4). "who are you?" "Patricia" "do you have a drink Patricia?" "no but I have a pickle" "you win"

Mondays

I actually got a chuckle out of Kev this morn at 7:30 am (your time). He works Saturday. Poor baby.

For me it's a constant dread of Monday mornings. So almost all the time I don't bother. I've worked more monday's than almost anyone. I'm proud of that. When I do work Monday's this is how look.

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Editors note: Uncle Don has got up many Monday's and just couldn't do it. He has the worst job in the history of mankind and on Monday's it just doesn't work.

Hmm

I know Roy is The Great, Great, Grand Poobah Of All Time and he is proving it. He's met another Marge. And they are in Penticton having fun presumably. Kind of odd, at this moment Roy is in Penticton, Bob is in Poland and I am in Toronto.

That is being apart geographically for sure. Were any three boys so different? Not many. But maybe because I'm the middle one, I can enjoy seeing and relish them from afar and know that their lives are going well.

I guess we are getting up to be old men now but I don't think one of us thinks we are. Not even close. Not even close. We won't be taken away lightly.

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Editor's note: Uncle Don also thinks that the dodo bird is still alive and kicking.

The weather in Toronto

For some reason, Toronto has only two seasons: hot and cold. I biked to work today and the temperature was +1 and there was a howling breeze. Against me of course. I've never quite figured it out but in the morning the wind is coming from the West into my face and then sometime during the day it always changes direction and comes from the East when I'm biking home. Hank Williams wrote a song about my day today I believe:

Hear that lonesome whipper-wind
It's going to make me fly
The whining wind is gearing up
I'm so cold that I could die

I've never seen a wind so strong
When I can only crawl
The sun just went behind the cloud
To hide it's face and cry

Did you ever hear an uncle weep
When the wind begins to rise
That means I've lost the will to live
I'm so cold that I could die

The swiftness of the rising wind
freezes up my ruddy cheeks
As I wonder how long I've got
Before I lay down and die.

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Editor's note: not many persons combine Hank Williams and the weather in the same blog posting. Uncle Don does apologize to all Hank William's' fans and to all the %#%^$$^ weathermen/women across the country.