Australians don’t understand lakes, probably because we don’t really have any. Sure, we have puddles, and ponds, and the occasional billabong, but lakes – not so much.
Whenever I told anyone back home in Oz that we were coming to Canada for Christmas, they all said the same thing. “Wow, you’ll have a white Christmas!” I didn’t exactly say “Bah, humbug”, but I did perhaps say “well, maybe – if it doesn’t rain.
I’m standing all alone in an empty schoolyard, well, all alone except for a little dog. It’s cold. Where is everyone? Anyway, more about that later.
I always feel that a place is truly defined by its food because, in the words of Cesar Chavez, “the people who give you their food, give you their heart.”
The words you never want to hear in any section of the hardware store are – “Wow, I haven’t seen one of those for a long time!”
They say good women are hard to find. So are keys, jackets, placemats and glasses.
“They” have finally approved publication of part two of this story. (In case you were wondering, I am now also allowed to confirm that the story is true, though I have been required to alter a couple of minor details for security reasons.)