Today someone at work said he was surprised I was from a small town, because I seem like I would be from a big city. Funny, because just yesterday I was ordering merchandise from the Ontario Cattlemen's Association and telling another friend all about the glory of Big Bruce .
On Sunday, we will be doing our annual Thanksgiving dinner. I am excited about it, and I am glad to not be driving 8 hours this weekend, but I do miss Walkerton at this time of year. Thankgiving was always the time for walking out at the lake, taking fun pictures among the hay bales. Every year at church, Rev. O. gave the same sermon about "thanksliving", and there were usually corn stalks on the altar brought in by one of the farmers in the congregation.
I really don't think I will ever live in Walkerton, or any small town, again, but it is still home. Even if I don't seem like I am from the country to the casual observer, I know that my rural upbringing has affected the way I see the world. Back before Walkerton was infamous, it was the place that I couldn't wait to leave, but it was also the place I lived for 19 years. There are opportunities that I didn't have when I was growing up, but overall I think that having lived in a small town, and then moving to a city, has enriched my life. Not many people do it in the opposite direction, so it's given me a diversity of experiences that city folk (strangely, in more multi-cultural settings) don't experience.
So, it's Thanksliving this weekend, and I will spend it in the city (we still don't have a car, so can't even escape to the Gatineaus tomorrow) before flying off to Washington on Monday night - but if you're wondering what I'm thankful for - I thank God I'm a country girl.