Just 30 minutes south, but a world away

Today Ellen and I decided, with rain in the forecast, we would put an end to our cabin fever and slip across the border to spend a gift card I received from an American friend. (I normally only shop in Canada, and try to buy Canadian as much as possible, but this card was only usable in the US, something I suspect my friend had not realized).

It snowed overnight again here, enough that it was hard to open the gate. The road is still unplowed, so I slipped and skidded my way down the hill to meet Ellen at the shopping centre where we connect with the highway to the States.

There was no lineup at the border crossing and the stores were virtually empty. I couldn’t find what I wanted but settled on some nice tops for work, on sale at 50% off, and eventually we headed back home.

The most remarkable aspect of the entire day? Not the quick border crossing, not the empty malls, not even the fact that the customs officer didn't make me pay duty or taxes on my purchases. The most remarkable aspect of the entire day was the difference in snow level. I have at least three feet of the white stuff. There is less at the border crossing, but still significant amounts nonetheless. But almost as soon as we crossed the line.....there was NONE! No snow!! Well, a tiny dusting here and there, but hallelujah, we could see GROUND! GRASSES! FIELDS!!!

What the heck did those Americans do - use a high powered blower to send it all north? Ellen took these pictures on the road between Lynden and Bellingham:

Coming home it started to rain a little south of the line...and no sooner had we crossed back into Canada than the rain turned to snow. By the time we got back on the north side of the river, it was white out conditions.

Contrast the pictures above with what greeted me in my yard:

Fence post protruding from snow at top of fence

There's a picnic table under here

The snow on the back porch roof has all fallen today - previous accumulations slid off early this morning!

It had clearly been snowing most of the day at my place, and Rob the Plowman had not been by, so I again struggled with the gate, skidded down the driveway, came to a shuddering halt, shoveled my way into the barn to feed the pigs, opened the door to the house to find wall-to-wall sh*t from my bowel-challenged Charley and a huge pool of pee from one or more of the other dogs.....

I grabbed a beer, fixed a hot turkey sandwich, and contemplated moving south. Just 30 minutes south.