The CWC wants your sweet summer memories
The harder your winters, the sweeter your summers? Do Canadians value the warm weather more because its rarer? Lets see what we think of summer in Canada. Please share your sweet summer memories.
posted by Andrew Tibbetts | 8:06 am
6 Comments:
oh...I'm having one today!!! a new memory will happen today, it's sunny, a bit overcast with big pockets of blue...the sky is a giant blue creamscicle...today will be my new, sweet, summer memory..xoxo
oh...HA!!! sorry..it's going to be a great memory..xoxoxo and..I used tanning cream...and...well...lolololol...I have orange streaks on my...well...it's bare, not toooo big...and usually white as the moon..xoxo
I think Patricia is mooning us, again. ;)
I think you're right about valuing summers when winters are so long. But today as we speak, we're in this scorching heat wave so it's tough to remember snow, even. One thing I'd miss, though, if I moved to warmer climes, is the changing of the seasons.
I associate sweet summers with a happy-go-lucky childhood. Running around on hot summer days (or biking) barefoot and bare-chested, wearing nothing but cutoff jeans. Forever looking downward so not to step on cracks in the sidewalk. Hoping to spot a stray nickel so to buy a popsicle . Or maybe find discarded bazooka bubble gum comics to add to my collection.
Following the grownups (teens) in homemade go-carts as they trekked along city streets during 'walkathons', and picking up empty pop bottles that are ditched by the wayside.
So, sweet summer days conjure the innocent, exuberant times where everyday promised a new adventure and each summer a sort of debriefing on a school year ended, and plans for a bright future. Sigh. Don't you miss those days?
Smoking punks down at the Rahway River. Exploring empty fields with my best friend Eileen. My mother's homemade strawberry shortcakes. When the heat was too much to bear, picnic suppers at Surprise Lake or on the ping-pong table in the basement.
Tricia
One week a year the Calgary weather is consistently summertime hot and dry. This is the week our prosperous businesses offer their customers thanks (while continuing to promote their products) in the tradition of the Stampede Breakfast. Every morning, in every corner of the city, for ten days. Free pancakes, sausages, and hashbrowns (sometimes eggs too) drowning in a styrofoam pool of butter and maple syrup never looked so good. Patrons tap their cowboy boots to country bands and fiddlers from their spot on the curb; they send their children into the fenced petting zoos, face painting tents, and pony ride corrals. Yup, that's summer around here. Yahoo!
The chicken roast at the park half a mile away and a band playing "Smoke on the Water". Running without shoes to get a Kreem-B-Tween from Dickie Dee ice cream boy. Cut grass on the tops of my wet feet. Everywhere in a bathing suit.
Dusk in the backyard and deadheading snapdragons and petunias, my fingers so sticky.
Gin & tonics.
Cicada buzz.
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