Life in progress

Daily Archives: May 19, 2014


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Victoria Day

Here in Canada, we celebrate the birthday of Queen Victoria (May 24th) on the Monday before it. Today would be that day this year.

When I was growing up I knew the holiday as firecracker day. My parents and their best friends would buy fireworks and set them off in the back yard, always ending with the burning school house. Secretly, this was my favourite.

Ours was the size of the first one they lit.

As I moved into adulthood, however, the holiday became better known as the May 2-4 weekend. This meant the first long weekend of camping, cases of 24 beers, and if we were smart, a few packages of hot dogs came on the trip along with a few bottles of Jack Daniels.

My first experience of the kind would have been about 1988. We piled into half a dozen cars and headed to Sauble Beach, to a campground run by bikers. There were guard geese there – my first encounter with those particularly vicious animals was luckily not a close one.

Much booze and a few cold weiners (it was too rainy to light a fire) into the weekend… let’s just say I was longing for the burning schoolhouse – or burning anything by the time Monday morning rolled around.

But such is the experience of life. Ah, youth. Now I’m just trying to get through a day off school for the kids.

Are you a Canadian with a great remembrance of Victoria Day? A favourite camping trip, perhaps?


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A Day… I Mean Night in the Life

01:00 – The thirteen year old comes to my room to say he needs to be covered up again. I get up because he won’t leave me alone until I do, and the more he fusses, the more he wakes up.

02:01 – Cell phone rings. Squint at the number. Don’t recognize it. Decline call.

02:02 – Roll over to go back to sleep. Get cramp in left foot. Writhe until cramp goes away.

02:03 – Get comfortable again. Notice light in my eyes. Open them to be blinded by rays of moonlight like laser beams coming through window. Roll over.

02:04 – Am awake, wondering if the phone call was from eldest son, lost, alone on the side of the highway, with a phone he plucked from the cold dead body of the guy he’d just seen run over. (Okay, the body wouldn’t be cold yet, but you get the picture.)

02:25 – Thinks about getting up to write this post.

02:30-02:54 – Drifts back off to sleep.

02:55 – Cell phone rings. Answers it. Loud talking in the background and then a voice says, “Wrong number,” and hangs up.

02:56 – Cell phone rings again. Answers it. Person hangs up.

02:57 – Cell phone rings … again. Answers it. Lots of noise: voice says, “Still wrong number.” Well DUH!! Am clearly dealing with a rocket scientist.

02:57 – Cell phone rings. Picks up and listens. Voice says, “I think the number’s 0215…” Resists temptation to say, “YES! Try that!” They hang up.

03:00 – (While failing to get back to sleep.) Imagines how it might be possible to replicate fax machine noise for next phone call.

03:27 – Considers getting up to write post which will include phone number of non-rocket scientist so that people all over the world can phone said doo-doo at 2 and 3 every morning for the next week.

03:41 – Tries to figure out how to say 999,999 in Japanese.

03:50 (or so) – Drifts off to sleep.

06:25 – Thirteen year old wakes me up to let me know he’s going downstairs and that he’s going to let me sleep for another half an hour. Goes downstairs and proceeds to scream at TV for half an hour.

06:55 – Phone rings … cousin in England has forgotten yet again how many hours difference there are…

It’s going to be a long two weeks until I’m able to sleep again.