I’m elated. I’m ecstatic. I’m downright giddy.
Why am I radiating with glee? Because I looked at the seven-day weather forecast and I saw double-digits. Not double-digits with a minus sign attached to them like a demonic leech; no, I saw warm double-digits. Spring double-digits.
I know I’m getting ahead of myself. I know these double-digits will tumble down. In all likelihood, we’ll still be wearing parkas and toques in May.
But I can’t help it. For me, these double-digits were like the shot of adrenaline stabbed into Uma Thurman’s chest in “Pulp Fiction”; I feel energized. After months of interminable snowstorms and ice attacks, it looks like winter is finally, finally, FINALLY, stepping out the door.
Of course, the great thaw presents its own breed of problems. Chief among them: What to do with all this melting snow? As everyone knows, melted snow leaves behind a liquid memento. Frosty the Snowman turns into Humidy the Puddleman?
When our buttload of snow and ice fades away, we’re going to be left with a Noah’s Ark-worthy level of water in Yorkton. You can already see it start to take hold, as puddles disguise pot holes in the road, ready to snag unsuspecting drivers.
All that water is a concern for businesses, apartment basements, and dog owners (who’d prefer not to get soaked after their pet splashes in a puddle). Water damage is a real threat.
In Halifax, I never really thought about after-winter water accumulation. Since the city has positioned on a hill, the water just slid down into the harbour, rejoining all its H2O buddies. The water rolled off our backs.
But in Saskatchewan, there’s a lack of hills. Everything stays put, including water. So how do we depose our liquid nemesis?
We could wait for the water cycle to take its natural course, but as winter has shown us, Mother Nature is not to be trusted. We need to be proactive.
We could arm everybody with a bucket and have them scoop the streets dry, but that’s inefficient. We need something bold.
In my opinion, there’s only one option: We tilt the province.
It’d be quite simple, really. We just need to knock the Earth’s axis off enough for Saskatchewan to tilt forward, letting all the water fall away. It’d be like wiping a dirty plate clean.
Now, this plan might sound “expensive” or “dangerous” or “beyond insane,” but it’s obviously the best choice. I’m sure there’s some money in the provincial budget for my brilliant plan. The Earth might be thrown off-kilter forever, but our water woes will be gone.
You can thank me later.
