It’s 30 below, so I don’t know if the ice shacks on the lake were occupied yesterday, but I can barely imagine why people would want to fish through a hole in frozen water anyway. Methinks it’s the whiskey-sipping part that they like.

Granny had a nasty black mark on her forehead but seemed no worse for wear after her fall on Friday. I’ll be taking her to the city for cataract surgery next month. Then she won’t have such a hard time sorting her weekly allotment of pills.

We watched the championship game of the Scott Tournament of Hearts. Team Canada was curling against the Newfoundland/Labradour team, and Grandma was cheering for Newfoundland. “A lot of people don’t like that Team Canada skip,” she said, several times. “She’s won too many times. It’s time some of the other teams got a chance.”

“Look at ‘em chewing gum like a bunch of cows!” I said.

Curling: now that’s my kind of armchair sport. The rules of conduct are courteous, there’s some skill required -- it’s not just who’s got the bigger goons -- and you just never really know for sure what the rock is going to do, ice knowledge notwithstanding.

I curled in high school, freezing my feet and shivering miserably by the time most games were half finished. No amount of game-playing is worth that to me these days.

The boys are back to school today. They got on the bus just after eight. The sun was just coming up above the horizon so there is no more need of the Christmas lights on school mornings. Now, sundown is at 6:00. Spring is almost here!

Loverboy’s mother gave me a jar of pickled beets, which I love. She said I can help her can beets in the fall since I like them so much, and that B’s wife said their shared garden is “too much” for her, so maybe I could help with it this summer.

I do not want to can things. Women around here are canning-crazy, but I have never taken it up. I bought a canner at a garage sale for $5, just in case. Once in a while the urge has struck, but as I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t follow it. Botulism, doncha know.

Me, I’m a throw-it-in-the-deepfreeze kind of gal.