They didn't happen. Neither one of us, my canoe nor I, were prepared for city life.
Every day I came home and I would tell my canoe about my adventures.
"I found a place that sells sushi pizza!"
"There are buskers at the Forks! They were juggling FRUIT!"
"I got spit on by a homeless guy!"
My canoe was always so excited for me, and always patient. The weeks slipped by and the shadow under her belly stopped the grass from growing. Every now and then, her sweet glass heart would leap as I pulled her out, but no, I was just mowing. Just raking. No river today.
Now she's in a truck, headed for another province. Two other families are sharing the truck, I hope they have canoes who will keep her company as they bounce along the highway.
I haven't told my canoe where we are going this time. She doesn't know that we will be living next to the widest river in Canada, or that a creek runs right past our yard. She has no idea that we will be a stone's throw from Algonquin Park. In the small Ontario hamlet, with no buskers or sushi, no Little Free Libraries, no Zumba in the park, no food truck festivals, art galleries, or weird little shops that sell nothing but teas that smell of feet... she has no idea what she's in for.
I can't wait.
We drive out today. Ontario, here we come.
We leave in mere hours for our next great adventure. For those of you military families who are reading this, spread the word: Winnipeg isn't a frozen waste of time. It's not stinky or boring or riddled with thieves and murderers. It has a warm heart, a GREAT down town, a rich cultural history, sushi pizza, a guy with a pet duck, awesome festivals, every possible amenity you could dream of, fantastic schools with dedicated staff, and a world class dining culture to boot.
To Winnipeg: Thank you for everything. Even the mind-opening experience of getting spit at. He was cold and tired and I was too happy, because Winnipeg is just so awesome. It's not his fault.
Cheers Winnipeg!
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