Another one bites the snow-drift

Today is quite possibly the coldest day of the year in Hades. This morning Environment Canada informed us that it was -28 Celsius with a -40 wind chill. That was when younger daughter headed off to school. She had a lift, thank heaven.

This was also the day that the developer who wants to build a three-unit condo next door decided to demolish the house that has stood on the corner for I-don't-know how many years -- probably about 80 or 90, as that's how old our semi-detached is. They put up the signs and fences first thing and ripped out the shrubbery and trees before using the earth-mover to scrape about four feet of snow off the roof. We live in the far side of the semi-detached, so I only knew the big-time demolition had begun by the muffled booms and crunches. The other clue was when a man who lives in an apartment block across the street brought out his well-bundled preschooler of indeterminate sex to sit on the stoop and watch. It was warmer then, about -25 and a wind chill of -37. Hey, Ottawa kids are tough.

By the time I took the Accent Snob out for his midday yank around the block -- he hates the cold and men with trucks and implements of destruction even more so -- the house next door was about a third gone. It looked like it had been gobbled by Hansel and Gretel, provided of course they had scary appetites and a taste for nails and drywall.

When I returned home from escorting younger daughter from her school to her music lesson, only a pile of rubble remained. All I remembered of the people that lived there were their pleasant smiles when passing me on the sidewalk, and the sound of piano music on warmer afternoons. Warmer than this one, for sure -- I had an ice cream headache with no ice cream.

Construction in Hades, as far as we've been able to figure, lasts about two years. This should be fun.