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July 14, 2003 — 11 AM

Two Weeks in July

Summer is the lazy season of blogging.

I like to think of myself as a guy who can roll up his sleeves and Really Get Things Done when I need to, but July so far as proven conducive only to reading lazily in the park, tipping back another cold one on the terrasse, and skipping town on a regular basis. Work seems like that place I go once in awhile to taste a bit of air conditioning when the humidex gets too high.

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, a mild, damp place where seasons are more like a polite whisper than a climatic reality. Summer is pleasant, but it’s not so different from any other time of year, just a bit less cool, and a bit less damp. Eastern Canada, however, is a place of extremes. As if the contrast between seasons weren’t already extreme enough, it’s amplified further by the almost comic lack of transition — or as we sometimes call it, spring from frost and snow to scorch and sweat. The shock of summer launches everyone into a mad dash to the barbecue, the cottage, the pool. Everyone knows it’s a limited-time offer (it’s Canada, right? Another snowstorm is just around the corner), and perhaps last winter’s particular brutality has given this summer even more urgency.

Well, who am I to argue? This summer, I am officially Taking It Easy.

I hopped the train to Toronto for a few days recently to visit friends and to offer my meagre tourist dollars to the SARS-stricken town. The emptiness of the city is eye-popping: there are no tourists. Of course Toronto is perfectly safe, but the ridiculous media paranoia has kept the visitors away at the height of the season.

I walked the clean streets, craned my neck from the charming street cars, and hiked a few of the numerous forest-covered trails (who knew the smog-choked urban sprawl of Toronto is actually a pretty green place?). I dined on food at quiet restaurants, and attended a viciously good concert by this season’s yummiest flavour, The New Pornographers.

In three weeks I’m off to that mild, damp place to visit family and friends and relax by the ocean. Somewhere in the middle of this, I remind myself that I have a few bills to pay, and a career to forge, and oh yes, a web site to freshen.

All this has me thinking that perhaps blogs should be like network TV. Does anyone mind if I air reruns for the rest of the summer? None of you are inside reading this anyway, right?


None of you are inside reading this anyway, right?

Nobody here but us chickens.

Kate M. | Jul. 14, 2003 — 3 PM

Previously: Dominion Day

Subsequently: Où vivent-t-ils les francophones du Canada?

July 2003
the Archives