I grew up on the lake. We had beaches, freedom, youth and fearlessness on our side. The Victoria Day weekend was the first real celebration of Canadian summer, and it was aptly nicknamed May “Two-Four” for the numerous cases of beer that were consumed.
Everyone needed at least one ‘Two-Four’ for the weekend. In my tiny little Canadian town, the firemen held a pancake breakfast, and the Provincial park was full of the first wave of campers that would take over for the hot, summer months.
Fishermen came in droves, and the locals let it all hang out, with partying as their top priority. It was a ritual celebration to welcome summer.
And then there were the adults. The gardeners. As a rule of thumb in my neck of the woods, you didn’t plant anything until the May ‘Two-Four’ weekend, as that was the magic date that made the risk of frost a mere pip-squeak on the list of natural threats.
Although life has changed and I’m a city girl in every way possible, I still like having my own small patch of dirt to call my own. I have a guerrilla-garden in the city, and this May ‘Two-Four’, I’m looking forward to getting some earth under my nails.
I hear the basil, mint, cilantro, tomatoes, eggplant and zucchini calling to me. My petunias are waving at me from their little plastic shell packs to let them out.
Ah yes, the May ‘Two-Four’ weekend, the ceremonial ribbon-cutting for gardeners across the country is upon us.
Rest assured, I will also be indulging in the Canadian tradition of cold brewskies as well darlings. After all, when you’re this fabulous you must celebrate daily.
Happy first-long-weekend-of-the-summer my friends. Enjoy!