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"The Teenager" arrived home this afternoon laden with duffel bags, sleeping bags, and a stereo. I do not know how all this gear fit into one little tent, but it must have. It is fortunate that a truck was available to transport her baggage to and from the park. It seems that the camping trip was a big success in spite of the cold weather. The beach area where the girls were staying hit the front page of the newspaper Saturday morning. The headlines read "Ready, set... summer? May 2-4 weekend kicks it all off." The picture below the caption shows four teenage girls on the beach wearing bikinis, scarves, and mittens. This nearby beach is a teenage Mecca; my daughter and her friends followed the call. Those who "party hearty" in this small part of the world call the Victoria Day weekend the May 2-4 weekend. The 2-4 is a reference to the 24 bottles found in a case of beer rather than the day of the Queen's birth. A little play on words. The parks are full of revelers and their beer. Attila and I find the abandoned and quiet streets of home quite pleasant. We do not seek out the crowds of inebriated youths; they do not seek us out. This achieves a certain balance, I believe. The celebration of Queen Victoria's birthday has evolved into the celebration of bottled beverages. It is evening. The whistling explosions of sound and color have begun in earnest. We can hear them in the distance and see glimpses of the showering lights through the trees. Fireworks displays are a traditional part of celebrating the Queen's birthday. Usually "The City" hosts a large display, while neighborhood groups provide displays that are more modest for their residents. This is a tradition in which I do not participate, either as a spectator or as a host. I associate these events with the damp, the cold, and a stiff neck. We rented the movie Notting Hill on Thursday night. We watched it tonight. I though that this was the third time I had watched it, but Attila informs me that this is the fourth time I have watched the film since Thursday. I am quite surprised. My attention wanders while watching many films the first time. This film has captured my complete attention four times in four days. I find the dialogue understated (which I love), and the characters flawed yet possessing integrity. Yes, I think it is the richness of character, which fascinates me in this film. Attila is in the basement again. The circular saw is whirring, competing with the exploding fireworks outside my window. The workbench is coming along nicely. He has been happily organizing nails and paint cans, screwdrivers, and saws. "The Teenager" is approaching an unconscious state as she lies amidst the ruins in the family room. The duffel bags are partially unpacked; her dinner sits half eaten on the plate sitting on the coffee table beside her. I think she is 2-4'd out. |
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