Originally posted on An Aussie Maple Leaf, adrift on the wind…:
Laura Secord was an incredibly gutsy woman.? When she overheard plans by the Americans to attack the British soldiers defending Canada in the War of 1812, she walked almost 20 miles from her home in Queenston to warn them. She was determined to get…
One of my favourite Canadian women in history is Laura Secord.
I’m sure that when you read this post, reblogged from my Maple Leaf Aussie Adrift On The Wind blog, you’ll understand why I think so much of her.
This is a post I wrote about her on the day that my brother and I visited her monument at Queenston Heights and, later in the day, her home.
An Aussie Maple Leaf, adrift on the wind...
Laura Secord was an incredibly gutsy woman.
When she overheard plans by the Americans to attack the British soldiers defending Canada in the War of 1812, she walked almost 20 miles from her home in Queenston to warn them. She was determined to get the message to the British soldiers, under the command of Lieutenant FitzGibbon, at Beaver Dams, where the Americans planned to attack.
This was no walk in the park. It was over varied terrain in 19th century ladies’ shoes and clothing which, it may safely be assumed, were not designed for much other than drinking tea in parlours and visiting a shop or two on the odd occasion. She didn’t go by the main road, because she didn’t want to be stopped by more American soldiers. Even though she was afraid when she came upon a camp of Iroquois, she asked for directions and was pleased to…
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My Year 10 English class studied John McCrae’s WWI poem “In Flanders Fields” yesterday. In our discussion, we contrasted it with some of the more brutal poetry about the war that we’ve been studying, such as Wilfred Owen’s “Dulce Et Decorum Est”.
When I asked them what we could learn from the contrasts in the poetry.
one student answered, “Canadians are awesome and generally more polite about things than the English!”
Sorry, English people. He’s getting an A+.
Tonight I did a terrible thing.
A friend and I were discussing a relationship breakup and, in response to a question, the first thing that came to mind was a lyric from a Mariah Carey song. The fact that I initially thought it might have been Whitney Houston doesn’t absolve me from quoting it to her.
My brainPod is generally rather genius at pulling up lyrics from songs in response to random words and actions, but even I was shocked at the cruelty of my memory in dredging that up. I felt kind of bad for inflicting the video clip on her, too.
Some kind of friend I am. Thankfully, we were both able to laugh about it.
Karma had the last laugh, though.
Knowing I have to get up early for work, Karma waited until I was about to drift off and then she made Tony Delroy, host of the radio program I always listen to, play the theme song from Titanic.
Freakin‘ Celine Dion.
I cannot stand her. As much as I love Canada, and as much as I don’t want to offend anyone who loves her, I think she’s bloody dreadful.
I heard the first few notes of the flute and groaned, “Kill me now!” I turned the volume right down but it was too late. The damage was done.
And here I am, wide awKe and blogging about it instead of sleeping.
Karma is, indeed, a bitch, but at least she has a sense of humour.
It’s day 21 of my 28 day holiday in Canada and the US. It has been an absolute blast.
Right now we are on our way north to meet with a friend from Missouri who is driving to a small town in Illinois to meet us there. I’m looking forward to seeing her again after several years. Even so, my day is still flavoured with more sadness than I care for.
I love some of the places we have left behind but it runs much deeper and stronger than that.
I miss the very special people I have left behind. I am missing them terribly, to the point where the tears won’t stop.
I guess part of keeping a schedule is that you do have to move on and keep going, but I don’t want to.
I want to go back and spend more time. I want to drink coffee together, talk, hug, share meals, see places, and to show them how much I love and value them. I want to hold hands and hug and touch faces and talk and listen. We just didn’t have enough time together.
I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to be gone.
Sometimes parting really is more sorrow than sweetness, and I don’t think I can ever be quite the same again. As much as I love Australia, it won’t ever fully be home now, because it’s true: home is where the heart is, and I have a very powerful sense of having left several large chunks of mine behind.
One sleep. Just one sleep. That’s all.
The countdown started at 187.
This time tomorrow I will be doing final checks and preparations before I get on the plane and fly away.
This trip has been four years in the dreaming, then hoping, then planning, then organising.
It’s so close – I can almost taste it.
I’m going to the US and then to Canada.
I’m going to hug people that I have never met, but speak with every day.
I’m going to meet family that I’ve never met before.
I’m going to see places and animals that I’ve only ever dreamed I’d see.
I’m going to spend four weeks on the other side of the world.
And yet it still doesn’t really seem real, because I’m sitting at my desk like I do every other night.
I’ve spent the day at school. I went to the staff meeting, then came home, graded essays and planned lessons.
The washing machine is still going.
My dog is sleeping beside me.
Life seems remarkably normal tonight for someone who is going to experience the beginning of the trip of a lifetime tomorrow.