Our True North Strong and Free

We Canadians would rather flag a taxi than fly a flag.

We'll happily put little paper flags in planters and tree stumps on July 1st, but we will rarely be caught hanging a big, real one from the front porch. And for the entire summer?? Unh unh, not gonna happen.
Somewhere in between the War of the Roses and the War of 1812, it got sorted out that those, those.. people...who didn't end up on God's fair isle were fated to go to that vast empty Hinterland  beyond the realm and across the pond  to preserve  His (or Her) Royal Majesty's majesty. And they gave their word to do so  with appropriate decorum and dignified deportment.

It was further decreed that the Masses of the Hinterland  (MoH's) would not bump into people, pets or inanimate objects. And if they did so, they would say, " I'm sorry." And, if the people, pets, or inanimate objects bumped into them, then the MoH's would say, "OH! I'm sorry!"

In the event of  a disagreement with anyone about anything, then the MoH must quickly defer, and say, "Oh.Well then. Of course, you must be right." And if, in the rare circumstance, that it was absolutely certain that the MoH was indeed, right, then the MoH must say, "Oh dear. Well, I am sorry. But, uh, I am right. Sorry!"

We're such a sorry lot. Why people from away even make fun of us for saying sorry so much, for being so friendly,  so polite, so forgiving. Not for us the dropping of a ball at midnight, nor the thunderous ride through tiny towns with a lantern. Nope..too attention-getting. Too dramatic. Too much like  a TV mini-series.

No, we didn't run with bulls anywhere, either. (Rode them, yes, but only when at the Calgary Stampede.)  But we did  name a chocolate shop after a woman who did try to warn HRM's troops about a possible invasion from below the 49th parallel. Laura Secord is sweetly remembered every Easter and Mother's Day in The Hinterland.

And when Nature is your daily guide, over time you learn to take note and you start to see things  a bit differently.

No. We don't do self aggrandisement well.  We may brag from time to time, but it's usually not about the nation as a whole, it's about individual accomplishments..like Terry Fox, Wayne Gretzky, Shania Twain, Guy Lombardo (yes, sorry, he's Canadian), Alexander Graham Bell (ring a ding ding), Dr Banting  (insulin treat for your diabetes), Thomas Edison (light's on), John Hopps (please tell airport security if you have a pacemaker), Peter Robertson (screw this in tight), Gideon Sundbeck (here, zip me up please)..and of course, things like Canada Dry, Canadian Club, Poutine and Beavertails (yum to the last four). And Blackberry (not the one you eat, though, there's a thought)
No, we don't like to show our official colours (red and white) because we are so much more than that.

In 1967 a book was published entitled Call Them Canadians. A table top anthology of poems, prose and pictures that attempted to define a Canadian.

One short poem has always stuck in  my mind by poet Miriam Waddington:

We are not one but two,

We are not two but four.

We are not four but many.

And sometimes,

We are not any.

It's the song my paddle sings, it's my canoe, it's my kayak. And while I ply the waters of this land, it's the songs I hear of the lonesome Loon, the Whip-poor-will,  the howling wolf, and the little Song Sparrow.

This is a land and a place that people have been trying to define and then subjugate for 600 years, but they still haven't quite  managed to..yet. And it's because of the weather.

It's , "It's 40 below, got a heater in my truck, and I don't give a F#*k, and I'm off to the Rodeo!" Who would write a song like that?? unless they've been to Canada in January.

We got used to the Hinterland. Embraced it. Made "Canada's Hinterland Who's Who" a Monday night favourite on TV. It's still running, http://www.hww.ca/index_e.asp and celebrating Canada's  incredible nature. But that 's not all that's uniquely quirky about us...there's also Bob McDonald's Quirks and Quarks..a radio show about science --that people tune in to CBC Radio to listen to! And speaking of CBC...no matter where you are in Canada, you can get CBC. Everyday. Same friendly voices, same earnest commentary, same silly jokes, same breaking world news. Essential in a country that has five time zones and half an hour later in Newfoundland.

                                                     What a place!

                                                       I'm sorry.

I can't define it.

But it is me.

A Place within me.

Shaping how I see the world around me,

and how I wish the world to see me.

This weary old world could use a little more Canada.

Happy Birthday!

Sign here.Please. Thank You.

Today I went searching for a specific photo of a beautiful painted Kashub barn in Wilno, Ontario because I had taken it, and thought it would be appropriate to do a blog on the first  Polish settlement in Canada, given the recent tragic death of Poland's president.
I couldn't find that particular file. Not on this netbook, not on the laptop, and definitely not on the antiquated monster that lurks downstairs! God only knows what part of the universe that file now inhabits and He's not telling.
So, I'm sorry and I do extend my sincere condolances to any Polish readers. I will take another trip to Wilno and take some more pictures and share them soon.
BUT! In my search, I did come across a file called Signage. And so I will share some of its contents with you, gentle reader.
We Canadians have earned our reputation for being polite and rather retiring. Perhaps it's the United Empire Loyalist legacy, or the cultural mosaic model of the 60's Trudeau era.(Place for everyone, everyone in his place). Whatever the reason, we really do say "Sorry!" when someone bumps into us, causing us to trip and fall. We apologize when we disagree, as in, " I'm sorry, Mr. Bell Telephone, but I really don't think my bill should be $3 trillion dollars, because I've been very ill, and my phone has been turned off this past month. Would it be possible, pretty please, for you, or someone to check on that and let me know sometime? Of course, I'll pay the bill, but if you would just, well, look into it, that would be really nice!"

"What's that? It's not Bell's fault? Oh. Oh. Well then. Ok, sorry to bother you! And, uh, please, yes, do put me on the I Accept Telemarketing Calls list! "
As a nation, we could use a course in assertiveness training.
Which is why, when these signs were noticed on a recent trip south, I truly found them shocking!! I've travelled many times to the States, and I'm a huge fan, but this was the first time I became aware of some of the signs, and
the guts, the gall, the oh gawd of these signs...

The American constitution guarantees the right to bear arms. The Canadian constitution guarantees the right to peace and good government. 

That's a significant difference in upbringing methinks.

When I first saw this sign, I thought it was a college student, jokey sign...for about 30 seconds, and then I realized it wasn't a joke at all!

Holy Gunsmoke, Roy! Take your finger offa Trigger! 

Not long after this shot (sic) was taken, we were in a grocery store and the man in the cashier's line ahead of me had a gun -in a holster, on a belt.

That was an absolute first for me, outside of the movies.

I was stunned, and started giggling, because it felt  so scary. That "Oh My God, I don't know what to do, I'm so out of my league, I can't  do anything but laugh", laugh. Perhaps some of you are used to scenes like this.

I definitely am not.

The next sign isn't as frightening...quite...

It's politely asking the reader to keep his or her clothes on, refrain from having sex in public, and for goodness sake, don't swear. Alrighty then. I don't plan to do any of those things today, in front of this sign...but I do have to wonder just what rabbit hole have I fallen down??

Oh. Sorry.

 Are there like, a lot of people who like, swear  a lot?

Naked, under this sign? In front of the hotel? 

You know, I swear quite a lot. I know, I know, potty mouths are not that nice, and women of a certain age definitely shouldn't let loose with the 'F' bomb!

Sorry! Sorry!

But I do, on occaision, swear when I'm pissed off about something! 

This sign, more than the no gun sign, scared me into

re-thinking the day's plans...

Ticks have not yet made their way north to our region of eastern Ontario in any significant numbers. But I do know that Lyme's Disease is terrible..and I don't want to turn a leisurely stroll through the woods into a catastrophic event...like getting shot by a crazy guy with a gun

who didn't read the first sign!

Oh. Sorry.

Getting a little carried away here! As a matter of fact, if I had a horse, I would get carried away from the tick zone, and I'd park myself here...

This is what I love, love, LOVE about travelling in general and the States in particular! It's the complete about-turn, give your head a shake, parallel universe that exists! Just when I thought it was too dangerous to go outside, or for a simple little walk, I find that I can not only do both, but I can have a tin bucket to give ol' Stewball a few oats and a drinka water!

Wow.

Just like back home. Shucks.

Lose the car altogether and just hit the road.

Okie dokie then.

Happy trails to you.

And you, and you and you and you!