A lament for my home and native land


Yesterday when I tried to do the laundry, I couldn’t get the machine to accept my quarters. I figured the machine must be broken. Turns out that it’s not broken – it just wouldn’t accept my Canadian quarters. Stupid washing machine. Doesn’t it realize that Canadian quarters are just as good? In fact, Canadian quarters are worth more than their American counterparts these days. Sheesh.

The other day I mentioned to someone that my parents are coming to visit for Canadian Thanksgiving. Why do I feel the need to let people know that Monday is Canadian Thanksgiving and not just Columbus Day? Anyway. The man I was talking to asked me why I don’t have a Canadian accent. Huh? A Canadian accent? I don’t have a Canadian accent because I grew up 4 hours from here. Actually, I don’t even know anyone who says “a-boot” if that’s what you mean. Sheesh.

So then. I’m out for a run along the lake with my hubby when he points out the Canadian Geese. Since when do we refer to the geese by their nationality rather than their country of origin (shit, do they originate in Canada?). Isn’t it a Canada Goose rather than a Canadian Goose? Apparently, Americans typically refer to them as Canadian Geese. Maybe this is a minor detail. Maybe we use Canadian Geese in Canada too and I just didn’t notice (quite probable)! But all of these minor differences have added up and have tugged on my heart strings. Too bad it’s not cold enough yet for me to break out my Olympic mittens. Sheesh!


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