It’s snowing in Stratford, apparently with intent to stay put at least for a week. Cold, grey and miserable, too. Fortunately, yesterday’s Remembrance Day parade caught the last of the not awful weather, although the overcast was thick and thorough and the rain set in just before the troops headed back to the armoury.

I was properly dressed (gabardine raincoat, wooly waistcoat, gloves, warm socks and solid shoes), so the rain and chilly wind did not bother me. Others, more stylishly turned out, looked distinctly uncomfortable.

For the third time, I spotted another medic on parade — a reservist who served more than 12 years in the regular force, including two tours in Afghanistan. He’s a city cop now. We always solemnly greet each other while the marching contingents get their collective shit together.

The Christmas shopping season has officially begun. I stopped by Crappy Tire for a bag of potting soil and almost gagged on the whiff of seasonal wares, especially a potent stench issuing from a pile of fake evergreens and something that had been treated to smell of cinnamon. I’m so glad I don’t have to work there.