With the infernal pollen departing from our atmosphere and the hot weather descending, I’m finding myself enjoying more “lazy” days.

These are the days when I come home from work, put my feet up in a lawn chair, and simply enjoy the smell of life. The noise of kids running around, dogs barking, birds chirping and people grilling in their backyard is music to my ears, and the sight of the magnificent blue sky in its early summer splendor never fails to take my breath away.

This time of the year also has its expenses. We had the carpets steam-cleaned to the tune of $300. The dogs needed their physicals; that resulted in the dispersement of another $280. The bike needed a new chain, and I kissed $175 goodbye for the privilege. Last week’s junk-run to the local dump and the Salvation Army set us back about $100 (including the rental of a U-Haul van). New drywall for the garage: $150. It goes on and on.

We were visited by the tax fairy a few weeks ago, though, so it’s not all bad.

The raging debate now is where to go for vacation. At this point, it’s looking like Calgary in late August, but that won’t be “for sure” until we actually buy the tickets (oh good - more money spent).

And this is really the gist of this post. We haven’t been in Calgary since we left in December of 2001. That’s just over 5 years … the longest span of time I’ve ever spent away from a place I once lived. Not including places I lived as an infant, of course … they don’t count.

One of my most vivid memories of Calgary was the day we left. I think it was December 10th. The moving van was packed and on its way, and all we had was the bit we could jam into our green Volkswagen Golf. Despite my wife’s protestations, I insisted that we take the “long way” out of Calgary, and we went straight down 19th St NW to Memorial Drive. I wanted to go past the CBC building, where I had tried so desperately to get a job. (There’s no telling what would have happened if I had succeeded; we may well have stayed in Calgary).

Then we went across the 14th St. bridge and into the downtown core. I don’t remember exactly what meandering route we took, but I navigated the maze of one-way streets proudly, and ended up at MacLeod Trail. We went south - straight out of the city - towards Montana.

I remember watching Calgary in my rear view mirror as it got smaller and smaller … and I remember pulling over to the side of the road and getting out of the car for one more look back. I stared at the skyline for about a minute, thinking about all the good times there. The people I would miss, and the places that had become a part of my life. I actually waved to the city (my wife thought I had lost my mind), and got back in the car for what would become a hilarious debacle of movement across the country.

You see, this was three months after 9/11, and there was still a general feeling of hysteria at the border crossings. We took care of immigration at the Coots / Sweetgrass border crossing into Montana, but the customs officer would NOT allow our little Volkswagen in. Seems that in 1997, the Canadian Volkswagens were not fitted with the airbags that were required in the American market, and there was some feeling that allowing this heathen automobile to enter would represent a threat to national security.

So - we drove across the country to Toronto, sold the car to my parents, and then “borrowed” their car to drive to the States. Since it was their car, there was no way that we could sell it in the States and threaten the peace and liberty of the American people. Of course, selling it meant we had to get it certified, which meant we had to get the windshield replaced, which means we spent a few days on my parents’ farm that we weren’t planning on spending.

We made it to Raleigh safely, and I have been an “absent.canadian” ever since.