Victoria Day

Today is the "May 2th" holiday around these parts, also known as the "May 2-4", because the name coincides nicely with the slang term for a case of beer. (Such sophisticated wit cannot be contained, I tell you.) We celebrate a holiday on the 24th of May, because that was Queen Victoria's birthday, and nothing says "party time!" like the birthday of a monarch who has been dead for over one hundred years. For everyone else, it is a long weekend, but for the Mister and I it is a regular weekend, since we have Sunday and Monday off all the time. But it was very nice to be able to sleep in this morning, and not have to get anyone off to school. We've have a hellishly busy couple of weeks here at Chez Loudshoes, and to have two days in a row at home was very, very welcome. (When did sleeping in get to be the Holy Grail of activities?)

Unofficially, it is the start of the summer season. (I'm not sure if there even is an official start to the season. I guess that would be the solstice, on June 21st, but that's a whole month away, and we'd like to extend the summer by as much as possible.) People tend to go camping for the first time, open their cottages, get boats into the water and plant their gardens, get the summer off to a rollicking good start, despite the reality of the weather. The fact of the matter is, this is very often a cold, wet, unpleasant weekend, much more akin to November than May. I've seen Remembrance Day ceremonies where the weather was nicer than Victoria Day.

This year, the temperature flirted tantalizingly with double digits, but remained below 10°C, and the rain alternated between drizzly and pelting. The wind remained at a steady clip out of the north, and the sun sullenly stayed behind the clouds. I cannot imagine how deeply unpleasant it must have been to have woken up in a tent this morning. There is not enough beer in the world to make that experience palatable for me. (Camping and I do not mix at the best of times. I liken it to snorting cocaine: people who've done it tell me it's fun, but I'm really not interested.) At least in a cottage, you'd have a roof over your head and a you could pee without risking your bits and pieces to the elements. You'd be cold, but you'd be dry and you could still make s'mores in the microwave, if you were so inclined.

We did no gardening this weekend because of the weather. Even though the Mister and I have a very Darwinian attitude towards our garden (we put the plants in the ground and wish them a hearty "good luck!" and ignore them completely after that.) it just seemed too cruel to put those tender little roots into the cold, hard ground today. (Also, I had no intention of spending one nanosecond longer than necessary outside today. I was afraid parts of me would freeze right off.)
Thing 2 and Himself went off to the garden store anyway this afternoon, and bought some herbs and some tomatoes. We have tried mightily to curb our enthusiasm at the garden store the past few years, as we have been known to buy up the place and then wonder what the hell we were thinking once we got home. ("Why do we have kale? What the hell is kale, anyway?" "It's those cabbagey-looking yokes that go all purple in the fall." "Isn't that ornamental kale? I think this is just normal kale", "Okay, then we have to go back!")

No doubt next weekend will be beautiful and summery and everything this weekend was not. It will not tempt me to go camping, however.