Saturday, 1 August 2015

Day 84 -The Pretend Camp Fire.

We are having an exceptionally dry summer. (Dry, as in lack of rain. Also "dry" for me too).

The fire risk has meant a camp fire ban.

Camp fires are part of the Canadian psyche, I have observed - at least in this part of Canada.
They are the Canadian equivalent of the cosy British pub hearth.

They are at the centre of social gatherings, even if you are not camping.

We have a fire pit in our garden. It hasn't been lit at all this year. Yet, most evenings, we sit outside around the non existent fire.

It's been really pleasant. I putter around in my greenhouse,  pull out weeds from my vegetable garden and then sparingly water, hoping to keep everything alive for another month. Then I too, sit around the pretend fire and drink AF beer.

We have my husband's friend staying with us BF#2 ( see Sins of the Fathers) and the visit was going quite well until yesterday evening, when BF#1 turned up with his spouse (they live next door).

We were all sitting round the empty fire pit. I was drinking my AF beer (no one notices or cares, which is nice), my husband was having a cider, and BF#2 was also drinking cider, and was quite sober (so far, no sign of strewn empty vodka bottles, phew).

BF#1 was completely hammered. His language was getting offensive. ( I live with a fisherman/logger so I am not a prude, but there are some words that I can't tolerate, and my husband moderates his language depending on the company).

BF#1 's nickname is "F**king Whatnot" as this is the phrase that he concludes most sentences with. (Usually when he is drunk, I don't really hear what he is saying because I am too occupied with counting how many times he says this phrase).

When he started to refer to my husband as "the f**king Indian" , I could feel my temper heating up.

BF#1's spouse concluded the evening however.

BF#1, in his drunken state, started calling her by his ex-wife's name.

It was then that I was relieved that there was no camp fire. Otherwise BF#1 would have been roasting slowly over it.

BF#2 said....."Poor F**king Whatnot. He's not a happy camper" we watched our neighbours stumble down the hill, sounds of marital discord floating up on the summer evening breeze.


  1. Love the idea of the pretend beer around the pretend fire with the imaginary ex-wife! Love SM x

  2. Oh Lordy, what a darkly comical evening. Kind of fun to watch from the sidelines with the comfort of knowing you are no longer an active player, huh?

    We used to have friend we called "Shut the F' up, Bob" (there we so many Bobs in our group we had to distinguish them.). You can borrow that nickname for your BF#1 if you'd like, it sounds like it could be useful.

  3. He ha, I would only my husband's name is Bob.....yes the drama continued......just writing today's installment now. (Hopefully they never find my blog and recognize themselves, or I could be sued, I guess).

    1. The drama is so much more fun when it's someone else's. Bring on the schadenfreude! We're bone dry as well, probably from your area all the way down to Mexico. I hope we make it through the summer without the entire West Coast igniting in flames.

  4. I so don't miss those days. Of trying to shut my husband up- who is a great guy but who could become a complete dick when drunk occasionally.