How was your Canada Day?
The past few weeks have brought us hit-and-miss unseasonable weather, but wacky Mother Nature came through for all of us on July 1.
If a day can be called perfect, Tuesday was it. And I put it to good use. No crowds. No golf. No fishing. It was a wonderful day in the backyard with family spanning four generations, ranging in age from six months to 85 years (I'm not the oldest, I'll have you know).
I made a brief trip across town in the evening and realized how lucky I was not to be mired in the Highway 400 parking lot as thousands of people tried to make their way home.
Growing up in Kirkland Lake, where the local bowling alley had fewer lanes than the 400, I often wonder how engineers figure out the complexity of our highway system, particularly the spider-web ribbons of concrete that surround the GTA.
Canada Day has always meant two things for me … a patriotic celebration of the good fortune we have to live here … and fireworks.
I'm a bit of a pyromaniac when it comes to fireworks and it stems from the time I spent visiting cousins in Boston when I was a kid. Americans put us to shame with their July 4 pyrotechnic pomp and I was lucky enough to witness some of those spectacular shows.
My dad would purchase a bag full of firecrackers and bottle rockets on the way home because the U.S. fireworks laws allowed you to buy a bit more boom than the squibs available back in Canada.
And for a week or so, I would be the envy of the neighbourhood gang as we blew up everything from model airplanes to ant hills.
It seems the fireworks laws have relaxed somewhat in Canada over the past few years. There are more outlets popping up and you can usually buy a few starbursts at the local convenience store.
Proof of this was evident Tuesday evening in my neighbourhood as whizbangs exploded and lit up the sky for a couple of hours.
Some of the grumpier residents on my street complained about the noise and the dogs in the vicinity went nuts for a while, but I just sat back and enjoyed the free show.
I have another reason for enjoying fireworks and it is tied to Friday, July 4. On that day, millions of Americans use fireworks to mark a special occasion other than Independence Day, because that day is my wedding anniversary.
I chose July 4 as my wedding day to make it easy to remember. It was either that or tattoo the date under my watchband.
In these days of easy divorce, I am kind of proud that Carol and I have been married 38 years.
We don't usually make a big deal of the anniversary. She will find a gushy, sentimental card to give to me and I'll come up with an irreverent, humourous card for her. I researched traditional anniversary gifts for 38 years and discovered beryl and tourmaline, which are apparently gemstones.
Since I had never heard of either; and since diamonds, not beryls, are forever; and since I bought sweetie a diamond for our 30th anniversary - I'm in the clear.
My gift to Carol today will be to give her some free time while I practise my golf swing. I can only hope her gift to me will be permission to go golfing.
