“You all drained out over there Tom?”
“Since Monday morning buddy, empty as Canada’s Wonderland the day after the kids go back to school.”
“Any plans for the next 270 days?”
“Hell no. Are you kidding? I am exhausted. I don’t know how those Florida pools do it. 8-10 swimming weekends with the grandkids and I am ready for a new liner and to not see a pool noodle for three entire seasons.”
“I hear ya. I’ll take being a squirrel latrine and dead leaf trap over a chlorine bath any day. Whelp. Chat when the temperature spikes, in three-quarters of a year.”
Just one of the many exchanges between backyard pools heard across the broad nation of Canada this past weekend, as the country with the world’s most lopsided ratio of usuable-pool-days to days-the-weather-can-kill-you (1:4) wrapped up another successful swimming season of nearly two whole months.
“While many hardy Canadians will open their tropical swimming oases as early as the last day in May,” says Dr. Cam Unble, a lead researcher into the mating habits of the Arctic jacuzzi, “The widely-accepted day to set your backyard rinks to ‘circulate’ is July the 1st.”
But with polar bears roaming the streets of most major Canadian cities by as early as the first day of September – looking to stock up on nylon-clad human morsels before the howling winds of winter drive everyone to the indoor community centre – this leaves most northern residents scant minutes in which to enjoy their personal watering holes.
“Does having a pool in Canada make sense on paper?” asks Jane Noe, of Okotoks, Alberta, as she looks out over her backyard, 98% of which is taken up by a swimming facility she actively uses around 2% of the year. “No, probably not. But can’t the same be said of living here in general? How’s about we just don’t overthink it.”