Embracing the winter

After yesterday's "here is the yeti" photo in which I even stretched my own credulity to breaking point, I thought I had better tail the intrepid duo down to Heron Park skating rink to make sure they weren't (a) playing an elaborate trick on me and high-tailing it to Second Cup for a hot chocolate and/or (b) planning a further repeat of "guess what we saw" and telling me about the mysterious ghost of Shergar snorting and stamping its foot on Clementine Boulevard.

Sorry, that was a long sentence. 

So I waited for 5 minutes, went down to the car, engaged in my traditional 5-minute game of "Scrape the Inside of the Windscreen" (see Extra Photo 1) and drove the 250 metres to the rink. Let's not be stupid. It is frigging cold out there. Actually, it is really frigging cold out there. It was -25C today, and that is not taking into account the wind chill. (There was no wind to speak of, but if you think I am going to pass up the chance for a good moan, you are mistaken.)

I was impressed to see Ottawacker Jr. on an empty rink (other than Mrs. Ottawacker, of course) skating like a pro. I guess it really is like riding a bike. My own skating ability has been much discussed over the years: "Bambi on ice", ""Eddie the Eagle", "The Cannonfall Kid" are some of the more gentle epithets that have been attached to my name over the years. All I can say is that if God had meant us to move about on ice he wouldn't have given us Spain and Portugal.

Anyway. Ottawacker Jr. has managed to acquire many of his mother's genes and as such has avoided the aforementioned inabilities of his father. I'm glad for him. So, I took a photo or 10 and wandered back to the car, which I placed in immediate gear and hightailed it home to a hot shower.