It has been cold in Calgary the last few days. The coldest this winter so far. Colder than almost any time last year. When it is that cold it gets you talking about other, sometimes long ago, cold times. Here is the time it put Dad in mind of:

“ One very cold day Bud, Frank Howdle and I were out hunting up around Goodsoil. We had gone in Franks antique vehicle, although I guess he didn’t think of it as an antique. It was sometime in the 1943 or ‘44 I think. It was so darn cold that if you stepped on a twig it sounded like a gunshot. You couldn’t breathe without your nose freezing up.  Hunting moose was impossible. It must have been almost -50 so we were very happy to come across a cabin in the woods with smoke coming from the chimney. It seemed to be a mink farm, there were frozen fish, that would have been feed to the mink, stacked like cord wood out in the hard. The red-headed trapper invited us inside were we met his equally red headed son and native wife. It was a rough cabin with little wealth on display. It looked like what money they had had been spent on only the necessities – a large radio in a cabinet and several very nice guns.  We sat on wood blocks up as close to the tin heater as we could. That heater was red hot. Sitting beside it we were hot in front and cold behind. Later, Bud joked as he usually did, that he could see the stacked fish through the well ventilated walls. That night we decided to spend in Goodsoil. The hotel wasn’t expecting guests, it being so cold and the owner was getting ready for the next season by painting and putting in new furniture. We ended up sleeping on mattresses on the floor but did get a good deal on the price. We never did get any moose”