Oh, what hath December wrought?

Is there a month that speeds by as quickly as does December? I'd challenge even February to go by as swiftly, although, being February, it has a tendency to drag somewhat.
This blogging is a lot harder than I expected. I didn't think it would be so hard to put my thoughts down in writing. Or, at least the ones I'd want other people to see. After all, they're all clamouring in my brain. The thoughts, not the people. Why can't I get them together enough to write them down? I know. It's because it's December. Everything about this month is chaotic. And the weather around here doesn't help much either. It's cold - we already had -41°C/-42°F, tons of snow, and winter doesn't officially begin for another couple of weeks.
I think today is my Father's birthday. He would have been 95. There is some doubt whether it's the 5th or the 7th of December, but I have always thought it was the 5th, and now, 39 years after he died, there doesn't seem to be much point in changing my mind. Seems strange that I don't know my own Father's birthday. We make such a fuss over birthdays in Canada, but in Poland nobody ever paid any attention to them.
Today is 47 years since I arrived in Canada. Quebec City to be precise. That day seems a lifetime away. I've spent more than 3 times as much time in Canada as I did in Poland, but still today upon meeting me the first question out of people's mouths is: what nationality are you? I always answer Canadian, and get - no, but really - in return. Well, once and for all I'm REALLY Canadian. I'm not ashamed of my Polish heritage, it's just no longer a part of who I am. I can barely remember living there, and the memories I do have are, no doubt, coloured by time, life, experience and wishful thinking.
At this time of each year a lot of childhood traditions and memories, real and/or imaginary, seem to spring back to life. So, while December zooms by, it has a tendency to pull a person right back in time.
Until next time, farewell.