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"
.......as we watched our neighbours stumble down the hill, sounds of marital discord floating up on the summer evening breeze.