Learning to Love Winter, Or at Least Hate it a Little Less

 

Anyone who knows me knows I am not a fan of winter. I usually spend about 12 seconds enjoying the first snowfall of the season and then go through the next 6 months grumbling about the cold and cursing my ancestors for deciding to immigrate to Saskatchewan. So when Mark asked if I wanted to go to the cabin in January, I was less than excited. It would mean going 600 kilometers north, and we all know that winter is even more wintery the further north you go.

Sensing my hesitation, he tried to entice me by suggesting we spend our days ice fishing. Somehow, he thought the idea of sitting on a frozen slab of ice for hours on end was going to convince me this trip was a good idea. He could definitely work on his negotiating skills.

But I have been trying my best to embrace winter lately, so I thought I should give it a shot. Plus, Mark is usually a good sport about coming along for the ride when I dream up nutty ideas, it was probably time I repaid the favour.

And I have to admit, the trip was better than I thought it would be. This was probably due to the fact that the temperature barely dipped below -5°C and Mark constructed a wood stove to keep the ice fishing shack warm. Also, he was happy to fish alone, so the dreaded endless days out on the lake turned out to be only a few manageable hours at a time.

Besides not catching any fish and Juno breaking a nail, the trip was fairly uneventful. The days were mostly spent going for short walks, reading, and doing puzzles. (We actually spend an unhealthy amount of time working on puzzles at the cabin. It’s a problem.)

Anyways, I finally threw my camera’s SD card into my computer the other day and thought I’d share a few pictures from the trip.

 

One of the few benefits of early-morning trips to the outhouse – you get to catch the sunrise 

Mark in all his glory; and Juno wondering what the hell is going on

The height of our ice-fishing excitement

Getting the bathwater ready

Soaking up the sun on the way home

The trip didn’t completely convert me, but it certainly didn’t hurt either. Maybe with more experiences like this I’ll learn to love the winter, one baby step at a time.

The story of how a winter trip to the cabin made me hate winter just a little bit less.

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