The Canadian classic "Home of a Rest" shuffled on my playlist. It got me thinking about being homesick, and how it has come to mean something altogether quite different.
It's good to be travelling again, observing the world transforming around us, even if we don't like what we see.
Earlier this month The Globe and Mail published a story of mine about winter bucket list experiences across the country. The only thing more terrible than reading inane comments is replying to them, because a: we’re actually advised not to and b: it doesn’t accomplish anything other than boiling one’s blood pressure. However, if I were to reply, here’s what I would say:
When Newfoundlanders heard I would be visiting the province for the first time, they didn’t ask me if I would be exploring Gros Morne National Park or tracking icebergs in Twillingate. A far more pressing concern was: where and how would I get screeched in?