Charlottetown has been blessed/cursed this week with an inordinate amount of snow, which has, in turn, resulted in an inordinate amount of ice. Yesterday I decided I had to do something about this ice, as much of it is in the form of 4 foot long icicles hanging off the back of our roof. Needing a suitable implement of destruction to knock these icicles off the roof, I went to the basement. There, as if a gift from Brigadier Reid, former longtime owner of house, was an appropriately sized axe, perfect for the job. Once the icicles were gone, I needed to shovel some snow off the mud room roof at the back of the house. Again to the basement. And there was a shovel of the perfect shape and weight for the job. I am sure that there will come a day when I can find a similarly timely use for the whistles which seem to hang in every corner of our house; perhaps there will be some sort of coaching or air raid emergency?