Day 334. The Hunk

You’re in for it now, folks! Reminiscing about my summer camp years, yesterday, has opened the floodgates. It’s unleashed a treasure trove of memories. So I’m sorry. sailingIt looks like you’re going to have to put up with more stories today.

Kinni Kinnic really was a fabulous camp. The setting alone was worth going for. Think of the Von Trapp family (Sound of Music). The rolling hills of Vermont. Lush. Green. Huge, old trees. Totally unspoiled. Unpolluted lakes. Still. Quiet. Tranquil.

Red-roofed barns. Clapboard homes with lopsided porches and flagpoles, and flags proudly flying, faded from all the years of sun and rain and snow. Bake sales. Lemonade stands. Home made ice cream. Cows and horses and sheep grazing everywhere. Yapping dogs. Birds. Butterflies. Buttercups. Flowers. Fruit trees. Picnics. BBQs. Bliss.

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Day 103. Parlez Vous?

I’ll bet there are a lot of you, who’ve been saying to yourselves, “Just wait ’til she gets to the letter “Q”. This whole alphabet thing’s going to go up in a puff of smoke. To hell in a hand basket.” Well, guess what?

Surprise, surprise.

What better topic could there be, but my home province? Quebec. Yep, on second thought, let’s make that ‘oui’. I am a born and bred Montrealer (slightly to the right of Ottawa on the map, in case you’re trying to find it). A Montrealaise. A Quebecois.

And quite frankly, if it hadn’t been for all the political nonsense that’s plagued both the city of Montreal and the Province of Quebec since the late Rene Levesque first came into power in the 70’s, I’m not so sure I’d be living in Toronto.

What political nonsense?

To cut to the chase, there is a very large group of idealistic (and quite militant, not to mention extremely emotional) French Canadians who want nothing to do with the Queen. They are totally anti-monarchy. More to the point, they

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