Once upon a time, my family lived in a magical place called “Canada”.
Dad’s paternal side was from Prince Edward Island, where they lived from 1775 until about 1849. Mom’s paternal side were loyalists who left America and settled in Leeds and Grenville County, Ontario in the late 1700s. My grandfather became an American citizen when he joined the Army in 1919.
My point is, I wish I could move back to Canada.
Here’s a spoon. It’s pointy at the top, has a maple leaf, and says “Canada”. It’s brass or something.
I’m going to go have a drink.