Ah summer, in Canada an all too brief season which, due to the broad lack of air conditioning, gets old almost as fast as winter. But just as there are things that I love about winter (frozen snot not being one of them) there are tons of things I love about summer too.

Coming across weddings at least once a week. All those people so excited, rushing around with smiles on their faces. And the dresses, it’s like a fashion show in the park.

Drinking my morning tea outside. Except for yesterday when my morning tea was interrupted by the biggest spider I’ve ever seen…and it jumped.

Fresh fruit slathered in cream. Heavy table cream not whipped so it can soak into the strawberries, and blueberries, and (my all time favorite) blackberries.

People hanging out outside. Montreal really does come alive in the summer when people emerge from their winter cocoons and bask outside during two-hour lunches and four-hour dinners.

Festivals. The jazz festival, the comedy festival, the fireworks festival, the film festival, and all those random festivals which just seem to pop up at random across the city.

Bert and I are going away for a month so finding somewhere good for Meeka to stay was a pretty high priority. After extensive searching we hit upon a farm with 18 acres of fenced in land including a pond and no cages at any point (including at night when the dogs are given pretty much free reign of the first floor of the house).

Just to be sure that it wasn’t too good to be true Bert and I drove all the way out to Ontario (1.5 hours) yesterday to check the place out. A few highlights of our trip:

1. The Burger King in Riceville only takes cash so beware if you’re hungry and using plastic.
2. Streets that are called ‘Country Road #16′ aren’t nearly as quaint as they sound.
3. There is something really spooky about driving through a farming town that’s pretty much devoid of life (I guess everyone was hanging out in the tractor repair shop or something).
4. When seven dogs have spent half the day in a pond, they stink.
5. Anyone who lives in the same house as seven dogs who have spent half the day in a pond has to be a bit on the odd side.

Ah yes, the ‘host’ at the farm was quite possibly the epitomy of “not a people person” as a personality description. He didn’t actually say hello, he just grinned at us as he unchained the fence. Initial impression, my goodness, this guy is an axe murderer. Then he led us around his property with almost no discussions (he asked what breed our dog is and how old she is and that was it). Our overall impression was that the guy must be great with dogs, you know, because he’s so weird with people so Meeka has found her ‘pet resort’ for the month of September.

The other day I was in having an EEG (nothing wrong) and as they were cleaning the goop out of my hair they were attaching electrodes to the next patient, a Mrs. T. Now it was immediately obvious that Mrs. T wasn’t able to communicate through words but, every time the technician scrubbed her scalp too hard or started on the next step of the preparations Mrs. T would try to climb out of the chair. Since she wouldn’t stay put the technicians had to tie her down to prevent her from plopping forward onto the floor. I’m not sure how much of the whole procedure Mrs. T was actually able to understand but it must be terrifying finding yourself in a situation that you don’t understand without a full comprehension of why this is happening.

That brings me to my little brother (who is actually now taller than me). As a child my brother had a variety of health problems which required frequent blood tests. One day I got dragged into going with him and my Mom to the doctors office where he was scheduled to have one injection or another. When we got to the parking lot my then six-year-old brother kindly offered to go and buy the ticket from the parking machine. As soon as he had the money in hand my brother took off waving the five dollar bill and shouting “Taxi! Taxi!”. After that, my brother instituted a system, he made sure that my Mom never told him about blood tests until the very last moment; things worked much better that way.

Right now life kind of seems like a bit of Mrs. T and a bit of my brother. A lot of things are going on and I don’t understand what they mean, which makes them kinda scary. On the other hand, facing an uncertain future is actually kind of reassuring.

Five signs that I’m getting old:

5. It took me almost a minute to figure out how old I’m turning when someone asked the other day.
4. I have a mother-in-law
3. Even though I’m not planning on having kids at the moment, I am considering maternity leave when planning my next job
2. When I walk through the university campus, everyone looks so young
1. When people talk to their children they say things like “ask the lady” instead of “ask the girl” when referring to me.

Bert is away at the moment, and, as a result, Meeka seems to be extra protective of the house. Now this protective streak collided last night with our next door neighbours party. Our neighbours certainly know how to party, and they do so in the grand tradition of latin get togethers (ie. they last well into the morning). Last night Meeka woke up growling and barking every time there was a ’strange’ noise.

First it was the broken glass at midnight.

Then it was the booming laughter at 1am.

Then it was someone knocking into the windchimes at 2am.

Then it was the castanettes (sp?) when the party broke into song and music at 3am.

Finally it was the shouted goodbyes at 4am.

A couple of weeks ago someone stole the propane tank from our BBQ, so, try as I might, I couldn’t let a single growl and bark go by without jumping out of bed and running to the back to make sure that no one was prowling around the deck. I have to say, if someone had been prowling I really have no idea what I would have done. In Vancouver, when kids through a rock through my Mom’s window, I chased them up the street in bare feet and silk pajamas. If I did that here I think I would end up with tetanus or something equally unsavory that I’d catch from the alley crap. I guess that’s urban living for ya!