Subzero Saturday
It's been around the -30° mark this weekend. I heard someone say today: "You know it's cold when the snow squeaks." I know it's cold when the moment I step outside, I become immediately aware of the presence of my nose hairs. This morning I was trapped inside my house due to the door being frozen shut. I tried for a good 15-20 minutes to yank the door open, but to no avail. Luckily, I've got people nearby so I called for reinforcement. My pal Emily had to bodyslam her entire weight into the door to dislodge it. This whole time the cat was screaming at me to let him out into the -32° outdoors. I have such a vivid memory of one of my first encounters with squeaky snow. It was in Qikiqtarjuaq, Nunavut which is located on Broughton Island, a small island off the Eastern coast of Baffin Island. From the hotel we were staying in, you could see icebergs out on the sea ice. My coworker and I decided we should go for a walk to check out the icebergs. Naieve as we wer