(There is some really thick fog this night, and I just finished carrying out an order for a customer to their car. I come back in, and a coworker friend from another department is in my department looking around. I walk over, and we go to lunch a few minutes later.)

Coworker: “What were you outside for, by the way?”

Me: “Oh, just bringing out an order to a customer. It was small, so I didn’t mind.”

Coworker: “How bad is the fog out there?”

Me: “It’s like Silent Hill kind of thick, again.”

Coworker: “When it’s thick like that, I try to catch it, but I always mist.”

(I dropped my spoon, and my coworker friend and I burst out laughing. We will both always laugh at even the worst of jokes and puns, and I hadn’t heard that one in a while. When we both walked out that night, we were trying to catch the fog like children, but always mist.)

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(My niece’s birthday is in January, and for her birthday present, my sister offers to order her a customized ring. It takes my niece a while to decide, but they put the order in right before Valentine’s Day. Finally, at the beginning of March, the ring is shipped out and set to be delivered to the apartments where my sister and I live. Unfortunately, the delivery date happens to be the same day the east coast is slammed by a nor’easter.)

Sister: “Did you happen to bring in a package for me today? A small one, probably less than a pound?”

Me: “Uh, no? Why?”

Sister: “I was expecting [Niece]’s ring today, and I got an email saying it was delivered around five o’clock today, but I can’t find it.”

Me: “It wasn’t between the storm door and front door?”

Sister: “No, it wasn’t, and the tracking info says it was left on the porch.”

Me: “What? In these winds? There are news reports of the winds knocking down entire trees around town! What kind of idiot leaves a one-pound package on an exposed porch in a nor’easter?!”

Sister: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

(Needless to say, my sister now gets the joy of jumping through hoops to get a replacement.)

(There is still a ton of snow on the ground and cold temperatures, despite it being mid-March. My coworker and I are leaving our office for the day and she says, in all seriousness:)

Coworker: “So much for global warming.”

Me: “Well…” *looks around* “This is for sure global warming.”

Coworker: “But there’s still all this snow! And it’s so cold.”

Me: “…”

(I really didn’t feel like going through what global warming is with her… a 30-something mother of two.)

When I was fourteen we had a fire late at night that destroyed the roof and attic of our house. Thankfully, nobody was hurt, because our neighbours saw the fire and alerted the fire brigade. We found out that the fire was caused by lightning striking the overhead power line. The city was in the process of taking down the lines and putting them underground. Our house still had the overhead line, but they had already cut the grounding.

Since it was their fault, they were responsible for putting up a new roof. They had almost finished it one Friday but left the roof ridge open the entire length of the house. My mom asked them about rain, but they said that due to the slant of the roof it wouldn’t rain inside. Also, the forecast was good and they were finishing the roof on Monday.

Lo and behold, on Sunday one of the worst summer storms of the year happened. We were in church and came home to rain pouring down the open roof. We didn’t have enough containers, so we got all our woollen rugs and spread them under the opening to catch the water and prevent it from soaking through to our bedrooms. My mom and I spent two hours wringing woolen rugs into tubs and my twelve-year-old brother tried to carry them downstairs and outside to empty them. We called the guy in charge and he told us not to bother him because the rain had seeped into his basement and he was busy.

They did repair all the water damage, but a little help during the crisis would have been appreciated.

I am a volunteer working in a shelter that was set up for residents flooded out of their homes after a storm. The waters are receding and the authorities have announced that it is safe for everyone to go back to their houses. An announcement was made in the shelter on Saturday night and signs posted stating that the shelter will close on Tuesday morning.

An elderly woman and her middle-aged daughter have been staying with us since the first night of the floods. They are quiet, very polite, and well-dressed, and they are driving an expensive car. The daughter is employed at a local hospital and we wonder why they have not gone to a hotel. Nobody likes sleeping on cots in a church basement with a bunch of strangers, and it’s unusual for people who have funds to come to the shelter.

On Tuesday morning all the other residents have left but the two women. When the day shift arrives at eight am, these two are washed, dressed, packed, and sitting on folding chairs in the sleeping area. The daughter asks what time does the shelter closes. I tell them we will be officially closing at 9:30.

Note that the workers aren’t allowed to start cleaning up until all the clients have left. The women stay until 9:30 exactly, then pick up their bags and leave.

The mother says, “I guess you want to get rid of us!”