Long summer weekends didn't mean much when we were kids and already had the summer off. They didn't really mean much to my parents either who were both teachers with several weeks holidays during the summer.
Only now, as an adult who spends a good part of my summers working rather than playing can I finally appreciate the wonderful gift that is a long weekend.
Yesterday was a holiday. We slept in until 7am and woke to find the sun shining and the birds singing. Yes, just like in a Disney movie. We had our breakfast, grabbed our coffee and headed to a local golf course where we were scheduled to meet two friends for 9-hole game. We got there early to hit some balls, for me to straighten out my swing and for the sun to warm up enough that we took our coats off.
At tee time, we headed out to enjoy a beautiful and just challenging enough golf course. We hit good balls, we hit horrifyingly bad ones. We laughed and tried not to kill any of the geese who were roaming the course in flocks.
After our game we headed to our club (the one we curl at in the winter) for lunch. A lovely outdoor table at the 18th green made us feel like we were on holidays in some very expensive and fancy country. We lingered over coffee, chatting about books and golf etiquette.
After lunch Doug and I spent a few quiet hours at home before we headed downtown with my parents for Ribfest festivities. Music, ribs, fries and fun.
We squeezed in one more episode of Homeland before heading to bed.
As a child, a day like that would have sounded rather boring and tedious.
As a working adult, it was heaven.