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Today it's a long weekend across the country. Monday is Victoria Day, something of a complicated day honouring Queen Victoria, who ruled for decades, directly or indirectly, over a very sizable swath of the world. In that way of empires, whether people asked for it or not.
Canadians call this weekend a lot of things. Victoria Day, May Two-Four, Picnic Day, May Long. For some people, it's the first weekend at the cottage. But I don't have that kind of lifestyle. For me, it's the weekend to get the first bit of heavy yardwork done. Mow the lawn, get the vegetables in, start planting.
Today I'll be heading out to get tomato plants and strips of cucumber seed tape. I've got potatoes for planting, saved from last year's crop. They sprouted over the winter; they'll just need to have the stalks broken off, then be trimmed up and planted. I'll need to turn the water on outside. That always gets turned off over the winter to avoid freezing problems.
And out for a few other things, too: I need some formalwear, and don't have any; well, I do, but it doesn't fit anymore, purchased when I was twenty pounds lighter. Whoops. Friends over tonight. Again on Monday. Nice to have people over again after, well, you know.
I hurt my leg running yesterday. The dogs ran up to a fence to bark at a dog that was barking at them. I tried to pull them back while I was running, wasn't watching, and slammed my leg into a fire hydrant. Cut my right leg on the quad, and have a huge bruise. The leg is stiff. There's a sweet bruise. May that be a reminder to me: that dog's always out in the mornings. Cross the street next time. The other side's dogless. This is on me.
So, yeah. I'm going to do my running around and then sit outside with a beer. Make a water bottle, put on some sunscreen, and start the yardwork, leg willing. Today: some tilling. Tomorrow the planting. The annuals I'll do another time, probably next week. Still a risk of frost where I live, even into late May. You think you're fine, then you check the weather, have to run around, bring all the annuals into the garage. The tomatoes will still be vulnerable, but we have pillowcases in the garage to slip over them if there's a chance of frost.
Things don't grow well here, but they still grow. The season's long enough for potatoes, tomatoes, with cucumbers ready in August. I find May Long kind of zen-like. A lot of the same routines every year. And there's a satisfaction in planting something, watching it grow, then harvesting it. The excess tomatoes made into sauce and frozen; the potatoes lasting us September through the winter.