Snow, and more snow. Not our first fall of the year, or even the second or third -- this is Ontario, after all. Billowing picturesquely past the study window, it's making me wonder where I left the ice scraper that's supposed to be in the boot of the car. If I buy a new one, I will immediately find the old one, and possibly the one I lost before I bought the old one.

Stratford is in that halcyon pre-holiday phase when fresh snow is more Christmassy than it is a hazard to navigation and sanity. By February -- no, four days after New Year -- we will have returned to our normal winter state of mixed resentment and resignation.