Cloudy With A Chance Of Nutballs

I don’t want to be a winter whiner (she said about to whine) but this morning in Toronto we woke up to yet another 10 cms of snow … because apparently the furnace broke in hell.

It’s not that I mind the white stuff really.  In fact, I’ve always maintained that if you’re going to endure the cold, you may as well have a little something to kick up under your feet.  It’s just that this frigid winter has been so interminably long already that it’s hard to fathom another six weeks of it.

Yet if you believe in rodent meteorology like so many North Americans do, then unfortunately Wiarton Willie and Punxsutawney Phil have already sealed your frosty fate by seeing their own shadows on February 2^nd.  Understandably they then slunk back into their dens, ordered a dozen pizzas and zoned out on National Geographic TV.

But what about a second opinion?  Surely there must be another species of furry forecasters we could turn to in our hour of need.

Well alas, there is.  And he’s been right here in our house all along!  It’s Winnie, or Wairton Winnie as we’ve recently dubbed him.  By luring otherwise sensible yet cabin-fevered human beings onto the floor to film him eating at close range, Winnie can predict our loss of spring (aka ‘sanity’) within a matter of minutes.

Just watch this short clip of his wily wilderness ways at work (ok, forgive me but this was the best bit of sunshine I had all day!):