Yeah, that's me on the 401, driving the car loaded with 40 kinds of footware just in case it snows -- or it doesn't. Headed to Montreal for two weeks to chill --hah-hah, get it? -- with friends and family.
It is so strange to have the sun beating down on me as I type this. It feels warm. It feels like spring. It feels wrong.
One day, Irving Berlin's I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas will have more resonance than it ever did. It's sad enough now. Soon it will be devastating.
But enough holiday blues! Have a merry, merry.
Tip of the toque to Allen Sorenson.
UPDATE: Donald in the comments points out that, thanks to the Star's spiffy new website redesign, the link to my columns is now broken. Not all of them have been loaded yet. That's what you get for being a Z I guess.