Thanksgiving in Canada

Today is (well was for me now) Thanksgiving day in Canada. The past three years I have spent this holiday in the glorious home of my friend Judi. Far and beautiful, tucked into north-western Ontario on a bit of an island called McKenzie. It is always a time full of deep talks, canoes across crinkled waters, numerous cups of strong black tea swallowed in evaporated milk and honey, dancing while cooking frenzies, and (my specialty) the gathering of leaves and harvest field beauties to adorn the Thanksgiving table.

Yes, I am sad to miss my very dear holiday with some very dear friends.

So to commemorate this Canadian Thanksgiving far from home but ever still thankful I have decided to devote a blog to all the amazing things in my life right now.

A hurrah for green things! My fingers and eyes seek out the clinging green on waving branches, drinking up that precious colour now more than ever for soon it will be only found on pictures and in my mind's reserves. The few spots of yellow and red or purple flowers also get special attention and yes, I stop often to be the odd curly haired crazy sniffing up great breaths of sweet marigold or fading rose. It is a trick Josh and I have been testing this past year; stopping to smell all the flowers to live longer or happier on a natural flowery sort of high (better on the lungs).

China! It still has yet to sink in. I cannot seem to grasp how I wanted to travel and then: zing! Bam! Here I am. Although, globalization seems to creep up on me and I often wonder if this is actually Winnipeg with a Chinese flavor or China with a Winnipegish sort of flavor? I feel concerned that all cities might feel a bit like that and I am confused as to whether to enjoy feeling at home or be annoyed that I can never really leave. (I need to think more on this one.)

Josh! Family! Friends! If home is where the heart is than my heart just keeps getting bigger. I could elaborate but then I would never stop. It is good simply to be in awe of the cup of friendship that continues to overflow.

Water in large bottles and kind, patient people that understand me when I fumble in Chinese and bring me a new bottle when I finish one. Vegetables and fruits from kind and patient vendors with wooden carts on the street side. Too many kinds of rice and things to add to rice for me to tell the difference and only one kind of flour. Hot baked yams right out of the steel drum on the corner. Tea of the green, black, whole flower varieties and then some. Yellow and green colored chalk that remains on fingers and migrates to everything else. Strong wind that stirs up dust and blood to cool whipped faces in the struggle to walk in the dazzling autumn sunshine of the sweet morning. Runners that cushion the happy simple plodding of early morn jogs. Recognizing a character on sign, understanding and being understood when speaking Chinese. Recognizing a student's face and almost remembering a name and sort of saying it right. Sitting for a moment of silence and suddenly forgetting to hear the construction banging outside. Skype connections clearer than telephone; communication that goes beyond words.

It is good to be thankful.