I posted this ditty on Monday, but forgot to click the Publish button so it would go up on my website. So if this is old news ignore, but if it's relevant, (like so much on my blog) :) enjoy.

My wife Lori and I were him'n n' hawing about what to do yesterday morning. Do we go downhill skiing at Lutsen as planned or do we go for an unplanned trip to Thunder Bay. After a good hour or so we were still undecided, so we thought we'd get a gallon of milk and gas up the Bug at Mike's Holiday. As I was filling the tank (from the usual E that I like to run it down to) I noticed Marcy come outside with this little gadget and change the price on the big sign from a buck ninety four to two twelve a gallon. After topping off the tank, the pump said the Bug gulped down 13 gallons to feel full again. Well, with this number in mind, I did some quick math and came up with an unexpected savings of two dollars and thirty four cents by getting the nozzle in the tank before the price was changed. I swaggered in the door with pride and bought a Duluth Sunday paper and a Strawberry Twizzler with my new found windfall and we were off to Canada. 

As a kid, for me, Canada was the place you could go to, to find the sign that said, "The End". Nothing was ever open on Sundays except one gas station with an old box of SevenUp candy bars on the counter. Canada was the place that you went to with your parents (and the rest of your siblings that they didn't trust home alone) when they played in Bonspiels. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonspiel You guessed it, Sunday. 

After all these great memories of Canada, I went something like 17 years of my life where the furthest east I traveled was Ryden's Border Store. Unfortunately in my late twenties, I was tricked into going there for a movie. But wait! The movie was good. The stores were open. They even had a Mall! This Canada was not my fathers Canada, but a new an improved Canada. No more bell bottoms. Yeah, they still said, "Eh", but they really toned it down. Now it was only every other sentence. I thought, "if this place is good enough for Howie Mandel, it's good enough for me." 

Fast forward to today. I could live in Canada! Don't get me wrong, Grand Marais is the place for me, but as crazy as this sounds, Canada feels like a place I may have lived a past life. I can't explain it, but it's true. If for some reason I had to move from my comfy spot in the world, and had to hunker down in Canada, I'd be content living out my final days eating my zah at Boston Pizza and playing five pin at Mario's Bowl. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five-pin_bowling (Did you know five pin was voted Canada 4th greatest invention?) But the best part of my new found life in Canada would be starting each day at Tim Hortons with a Diet Coke in one hand and a Honey Cruller in the other. (served on real china mind you) And in the end, wiping my crumb laden lips with a serviette. "O Canada". 

Yes, I took the picture. I'm not kidding, my love runs deep for this place.

PS.  Watch this space for new listings coming soon.