- by Cayley Routenburg-Brown
Winter is certain. Depending on your age, you might have a different relationship with it. Winter means a few things as a child. Snow days, hot chocolates, and Christmas. As an adult it means snow tires, white-knuckle driving, and shoveling. Winter in Grey County, however, is a 
little different. Driving through a blizzard in Grey County is the exact same as holding a piece of white printer paper in front of your face. This is what we like to call a whiteout. Although it doesn’t feel like it lately, given a green (or should I say grey) Christmas, we are acclimatized to a lot of snow in this neck of the woods. Sure, we grunt and groan as we pick up the shovel and tie up our snow boots-but we do it. Every year, it’s the same. Owen Sound is the recipient of the most snow fall in the entire province of Ontario. Each year we receive 130 inches of snow. Yes, that’s inches. A little shy of 11 feet. That’s about the size of 1 adult alligator (like the ones you see in Florida), 2 NHL sized hockey sticks, the diameter of a trampoline, or 10 Subway sandwiches. That’s a lot of snow. That’s a lot of sandwiches. Snow is a sure thing in Grey. If it’s not here yet- it’s coming.
Over the Christmas break I watched the 1985 Christmas movie called One Magic Christmas by Disney. Yes- it’s on Disney Plus. As a kid, this was always the last one on my list to watch. Watching it as an adult made me realize that it’s not the best movie for kids. The dad gets shot, the kids are stolen by a stranger, and the Santa Claus is just creepy looking. Besides the perspective of my adult cynicism, a lot of the filming actually took place in Owen Sound and Meaford. The fictional setting is actually called Meadford- a nod to Meaford, Ontario. My husband and I pointed to the screen in delight at the familiar sites. City hall, tall snow banks, old cars, kids playing hockey on the road- it all got me thinking about the old saying “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” This term was originally coined in 1849 by Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr. He wrote this a year after the French Revolution. Who knew 170 years later we’d be dealing with our own crisis. This means he looked at the utter chaos around him and realized the little bits of good that were still present. Having a look at City Hall in the 1980’s looks pretty much the same as it does now. The most obvious change is that the old IDA pharmacy is now the location of Community Living. In this crazy world it is nice to think that we still have some consistency.
Winter activities for a kid in Grey County are pretty much the same as they’ve always been. I have fond memories of skating at the Chatsworth arena on the weekends and defrosting my cold hands with a rainbow sprinkled donut and a hot chocolate afterwards-thanks dad. I remember tobogganing at the Harrison Park hill and flying into the bushes at the end- thanks dad. Flying saucers and GT racers are the superior methods of transportation down the hill. If you see people with crazy carpets-run. The carpets aren’t the only crazy ones. The top of the hill scared me then, and scares me now. Christmas Eve, I was allowed to open one gift. This gift was special and was usually homemade pajamas from my Aunt.
Christmas morning meant an early wake up call to make it for candlelight service at church at 7am. Breakfast was the clementine from the bottom of my stocking and bits of candy I snuck into the pew with me hidden in my Christmas dress pocket. My fondest memory is anxiously waiting to open up my gifts as I watched morning break behind the stained glass windows and tried my best not to stand too close to the candlesticks. Watching with groggy eyes as the cream colored wax dripped down the candlesticks was a reminder that more time was passing and my presents were still sitting under the tree untouched and waiting. If you were a kid who got to open their gifts at 5 am on Christmas morning- just know I was jealous of you. Scratch that-I am still jealous of you. Baptiste really knew what was up. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
My parents have told me stories about how high the snow banks used to be and there were a few times in my childhood that I remember the banks being really really high. I remember walking on top of them and feeling on top of the world. The road I grew up on was usually one of the last to be plowed so by the time the snow plow did come down the road we had some pretty tall snowbanks. If you ask previous generations they will likely talk about snow storms that caused many to be storm-stayed. This is another term that will leave your Toronto friends baffled. The snow storm of 1947 and The Great Blizzard of 1971 are a couple that are well know. A snow blade for a train was actually brought in from Quebec to help us clean off the tracks in 1947! Snow is a sure thing!
At this time of year, it is easy to pressure ourselves to do more and be healthier, stronger, happier, etc. The fancy word ‘resolution’ is tossed around more in January than the confetti that litters the streets of New York. Shout out to the cleaners who are tackling that chore today. All I can picture is a group of tired New Yorkers tramping up and down the sidewalks of Times Square with those pointy garbage pokers in their hands. 3,000 pounds of confetti is a major clean up I would imagine. That’s about the weight of 9795 Subway sandwiches, just in case you were wondering. We challenge ourselves to start a new diet, save more money, only think positive thoughts, and be a better “fill in the blank”.
What if we focused on the sure things around us? What if we were grateful for the things that have stayed the same? To indirectly quote Frank Sinatra, what if we could “make a brand new start of it while appreciating the consistency that surrounds us?” So today, as you clean your champagne flutes and put away your Happy New Year head bands for the year, take a minute to reflect on all the consistencies in your life. Take comfort in knowing that some things are as certain as the sun. Here’s looking at you, 2022.
