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Halifax can be damn cold

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Saturday. Shopping day in sleepy Halifax.

Charlie and I headed over to the local market to have a look around. I'd been thinking of smoked salmon, but couldn't find any of the dry variety that you can get on the west coast. We did stop and chat with a woman who makes funky candles. She taught us all of her secrets about the ornamental candle-making business.

After last week's weather, I went directly to MEC and bought myself a parka. I'd been using a hand-me-down from my dad, but the thing never really fit, and while it was certainly warm, I found it far too constrictive. Also, it was shedding its fur collar. It was at least twenty years old, though, and while it got me through the hell of the -42C (with windchill) of the previous week, I realized that it was time for a replacement.

Mid-day, we did some more errands, then headed out to the same bit of shoreline that we'd visited with Chako and Tracey. It was very windy and very cold. My new parka was just the thing. It allows me to use my arms, which I haven't had in a winter coat in... well, ever.