Don’t panic. I’m not going to write this entire column based on that premise and sounding like a cheap imitation of Jeff Foxworthy and his Redneck series of jokes.
There’s probably ample fodder to do the entire column that way.
For example: you know are a true Albertan when . . . you always vote for the right wing party.
Or, you know you are a true Albertan when . . . you’re suspicious of someone just because they came from Ontario.
I’m not saying these are positive character traits necessarily, but tend to be true a lot of the time. Like it or not. My apologies to folks from Ontario.
My best example today is: you know you are a true Albertan when . . . you don’t put away the snow shovel.
. . . you don’t take the scraper out of any of the vehicles.
. . . you put away all but one pair of mitts.
. . . you simply move the winter woollies from the house coat closet to the holiday trailer.
. . . you don’t fully embrace spring the first time because you know you’ll have at least two more chances to welcome spring before May long weekend ends.
. . . you never plan an outside event in May without a serious back-up plan.
Yes, we true born-and-raised Albertans know that spring will arrive over and over each year, interspersed with several curtain calls by Old Man Winter. I hoped to educate the children to this known and accepted fact this year in Spring No. 1. With true youthful enthusiasm they greeted the melting snow in March as the true spring.
Hold up, their wise Mother counselled them. You’ve got to know this isn’t the only spring we’ll see this year.
We proceeded to then place our bets on how many more times snow/winter would return before spring was truly here to stay in Alberta.
The most naive of my offspring suggested only one or possibly no episodes of winter would interrupt our spring.
Needless to say if we’d actually recorded everyone’s bets and remembered which kid that was, he or she would be soundly out of the running for the non-existent grand prize.
Another of the kids firmly announced the No. 3 as their bet for winter reappearances. I still don’t know whether this claim was a true acceptance of reality or just a random number pulled out of the blue sky. It could honestly go either way.
I admitted to myself that March or even mid-April was much too early to permanently say goodbye to winter and gave no thought to washing snow pants or putting away toques and winter boots.
After the huge dump of snow we received the end of April, the one that gave the kids a snow day well after they had expected to enjoy such a luxury, I felt it was safe to commence putting more stuff away. Note I said more, not all.
I washed snow suits and hung them further out of reach. I put mittens and toques away on high shelves, safely stored in a tote. I stuffed winter boots under the stairs. Out of sight, out of mind.
Part of me regretted this briefly when the snow and screaming wind showed up mere days later.
The rest of me decided to effectively stick my tongue out at Mother Nature. It’s now May. It may be snowing but I refuse to wear all my winter woollies.
I will just layer the spring clothing. And wear socks in my regular rubber boots. I can do this!
It isn’t 40 below with the windchill. Surely I don’t need a toque.
I still haven’t put the snow shovel away and yesterday I simply readjusted the position of the scraper in the truck so it can stay there year-round.
Perhaps that’s our real reality. Keeping the winter supplies accessible year-round. It’s just that for a couple delightful months, the winter boots really get in the way of the sandals and bottles of sunscreen.
Don’t you just love Alberta?
Krista Waters is a freelance writer from the Caroline area. Her observations about life appear weekly in LIFE.