I’m pretty sure that Canuck might offend some Canadians. I am hoping I will be excused for using it since I have a few Canuckian roots. The Fins came over from Scotland back in the 1800s and made their way to the Toronto area and then further points west and north. There were a lot of boyz in that generation if I have it right and they went off make their way trapping fur and hanging out with the Mounties and I dunno what else.

It’s all a long story (like everyone’s story) but both of my paternal grandparents were born in Canada and landed in the Michigan version of Sault Ste. Siberia as small children. They became American citizens and so am I but, when I was young and still trying to figger out who the heck I was, I used to love telling people that I was half Canadian (or whatever). I haven’t done that for a very long time. I’m not sure who the heck I thought I was or why anyone would’ve been interested in that boring little piece of information.

Anyway, because we lived on the border (and *not* because we were “half” Canadian), we traveled in Canada quite a lot when I was a kid. When I was three years old, we took the Long Trip and we stayed in a motel in North Bay over on Lake Nippissing (google it). I was interested in the beeyootyful pink toilet, sink, and bathtub et al. Pink! There was a spider in the tub and The Commander was in full freakout tilt spider eradication boogie. I was an only child on that trip. Sort of. The Engineer was on the way.

I noticed toilet, sink, and bathtub colors that whole trip. I was THREE fer kee-reist! The Commander remembers singing me songs out of the Golden Song Book over and over and over again the whole time. Actually, I vaguely remember that too. (And I have the book now. I found it in the Squatter’s Paradise.) I have a very vague memory of visiting some spinster-type ladies over in Toronto (I think). The Hallidays. We had tea and there was a fancy lace tablecloth and they doted on me (I think). (Hey, I was three!)

We also crossed over into the states on that trip. To visit the Shermans in upstate New York. The Commander tells me that when I saw the Sherman kids playing in the Sherman back yard, I got all excited and yelled, “KIDS!” and took off. That doesn’t really sound a whole lot like something yer fav-o-rite blahgger would do but I must’ve done it. I even have a picture somewhere.

The Sherman family had roots in the Sault Ste. Siberia area (Michigan side, the grandparents were American). When I was older, they would drive from upstate New York to the Yooperland with their VW Bus and popup camper and their five children and park in one of our “parking places”. Esther Sherman was the mom and she is one of The Commander’s best friends in life. Esther’s children were almost like cousins to me. And I owe Esther a call because she has called me so many times during the last six months. I love Esther. She is like a mother to me.

Good night,
–KW

So, my best friend in life is on a Canadian journey right now and she passed through Sudbury and I remember Sudbury as being kind of a wasteland but Wikipee says something different.

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