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~ the musings of a left wing left hander with two left feet

If By Yes

Tag Archives: Canada

Why Yes, Our New Prime Minister IS Sexy, But That’s Not Why We’re Excited About Him.

29 Thursday Oct 2015

Posted by IfByYes in Life and Love

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Canada, election, Harper, hope, justin trudeau, multiculturalism, pierre trudeau, politics, racism

trudeauSo, in case you live outside of Canada and don’t have Canadians on your Facebook, we just elected our version of JFK Junior to lead our country.

We’re really happy.

The funny thing is, even people who didn’t vote for him are happy. Like me (of course, no one in Canada directly votes for a certain prime minister, but I have already I ranted about Canada’s broken electoral system and our split-left years ago during our last election).

Why am I so thrilled even though I don’t vote liberal? Let me explain…

Continue reading →

It’s Noble. We’re Supporting the U.S. Economy Or Something. Not Greedy. NOBLE!

09 Wednesday Nov 2011

Posted by IfByYes in Life and Love

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

America, Canada, cross border shopping, economy, food prices, shopping

We love America.

We just don’t want to live there.

Some Eastern friends of ours went to the States on vacation last summer and were shocked at how cheap everything is.

I had to try and explain about how other costs of living (like health care – man, reading about @grammargeek’s hospital bills was just shocking for me. I can’t imagine trying to decide between my health and child… and financial solvency) balance things out.

We pay a little more for groceries, but we pay way less in health care. I’m not complaining.

But in any case, stuff is really, really cheap in America.

We Vancouverites are used to it, however, because we treat the States like our personal shopping mall.

For those of you who live in America:

Did you know that you have stuff for REALLY FRIGGING CHEAP?

Like gas. My gawd.

It makes no sense to me, because WE are the ones with oil. We rival the Middle East for oil production and yet, for some reason, we pay $1.36 a litre, which works out to 5 bucks a gallon. And then we cross the border and see your gas prices, and it’s like: WHOA.

We seriously contemplated buying a Jerrycan just so we could buy MOAR GASOHOL.

And groceries? Wow. I don’t know if it’s the way Americans seem to be in love with everying bulk, or what, but dang some things are cheap.

Like chicken. Chicken is frigging expensive up here, so we stock up on a LOT of chicken when we go to the states. And cheese. Man, we love to buy your cheap cheese.

But the ultimate in U.S. shopping experiences was going to Cost Co in the States with some friends who have a membership.

We drove down together and let Owl, who is a natural born U.S. citizen, although neither he nor the U.S. are aware of it yet, explore his native soil.

SHOW ME THE SHOPPING

One thing we have found about shopping in the states is that you can get most things in bulk – cheese, meat, waffles, margarine… except for vegetables.

You want 2 lbs of butter? Sure. But 2 lbs of frozen beans? Not in the cards for us. Oh well. We have fruits and vegetables back home, and we’re not supposed to bring them across the border anyway.

On the other hand, you do get WTF products like this: That’s right. Pancakes and Sausages. ONNA STICK. And they”re artificial blueberry flavoured. If that isn’t a product that sells itself, well…

I was also awed and disturbed by the gun display IN WALMART.  I mean, dang, it wasn’t just like a couple of .22 hunting rifles. They were massive, black, gleaming, deadly looking things. To someone like me who NEVER sees actual guns except maybe on the hip of a police officer, it was truly bizarre.

I didn’t take a photo of the murder-weapon display because I thought that would look suspicious, but I did have to take a photo of this:

You'll shoot your eye out, kid!

…Then we went on to Cost Co where we got 5 pounds of cheese, pre-grated, 20 pounds of chicken, and a lifetime supply of waffles.

We also bought, like, 15 bottles of pop, and we got ALL the pasta sauce. America has no more. It’s all in our pantry.

Owl, can you say "consumerism"?

Good boy!

In Which Canada is Shocked and Dismayed, and Babby Gets Teeth

03 Tuesday May 2011

Posted by IfByYes in How is Babby Formed?, My Blag is on the Interwebs, Oh The Inanity

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

babbling, babies, bloc quebecois, Canada, Conservatives, election 2011, electoral reform, Green Party, Liberals, May 2 2011, milestones, NDP, politics, teething, voters, votes

So, remember how I said Canada was going to end up with the same government as before?

I eat my words OM NOM NOM.

Watching the election was a bizarre mix of pure elation and rich horror for people on both sides of the fence.

Now, this is Canada’s government as of 2008:

Dark Blue = Conservative, Red = Liberal, Orange = NDP, Light Blue = Bloc Quebecois, Green = obvious

This is how Canada was polling before election day in 2011:

Dark Blue = Conservative, Red = Liberal, Orange = NDP, Light Blue = Bloc Quebecois, Green = Obvious

So you can see why I didn’t think there would be any surprises. It should be noted that for the Conservatives to get a majority government, they would need 155 seats, so the projections were showing that they would be at least 10 short of their goal. The NDP were expected to make a big gain, because the leader was campaigning in Quebec and getting a lot of interest there. So the Bloc Quebecois were expected to give up some votes.

This is what happened:

For the first time in history, the Liberals placed third in the popular vote

Despite recieving 40% of the popular vote, the Conservatives win a sweeping majority (12 more than the required 155 seats) and the NDP become the Official Opposition

Not only did the Conservatives win a majority somewhat unexpectedly, but the Bloc Québécois (the Quebec separatist party, which usually holds most of the seats in Quebec) has been virtually eradicated. Even the party leader, who has been in Parliament for 20 years, didn’t get voted into his seat. Technically, the Bloc is no longer an official political party.

The Green Party leader got a seat in Parliament for the first time, which I think is largely a success that can be attributed to vote swapping.

Embarrassingly for the Liberals (who have been either the Federal Government or the Official Opposition for 150 years), not only did they get booted into a dismal third place, but their own party leader didn’t get elected into Parliament. I feel bad for Ignatieff. I always thought he was a bad choise for Liberal leader, but he didn’t deserve that.

Anyway, basically, no one is happy with this government:

The left-wing voters are horrified by the Conservative majority. Now Mr “Harper Government” has the power to make changes against the advice of the left wing Members of Parliament, despite the fact that he only has 40% of the popular vote.

The right-wing voters are horrified by the NDP opposition. You have to understand, this is totally unprecedented. The New Democratic Party puts a strong emphasis on social programs and support for the poor, the blue-collar, and the elderly. They want to put caps on trade, increase taxes on large corporations while giving cuts to small businesses, and increase the old age pension and cut taxes for the old and the poor. They aren’t total socialists or anything – on a provincial government level, as I mentioned before, they actually have a fantastic track record when it comes to handling money responsibly. But you can’t convince the right-wing folks of that, who are sure that if the NDP get into power they would just run around naked in the streets throwing hundred-dollar bills to the homeless and then shredding the rest of the national coffers for confetti.

And now they are opposing our most right-wing faction. Interesting, no?

In a way, it’s a good thing that the Conservatives have a majority. The last few years the Conservatives have blamed everything that went wrong on the fact that they were hobbled by the left-wing Members of Parliament. Now they can’t use that excuse, and we have a strong spokesman for the Everyman keeping him honest.

I think once everyone gets over being horrified, they’ll realize that this government might actually work. And if it doesn’t, maybe it will convince people to go out and effing vote.

Or at least, do some electoral reform.

Jeez.

Meanwhile, in (to me) equally important and world-shattering news, Babby has started babbling again. I haven’t been posting about this because I know I’m a nervous nelly, and I could just see you guys rolling your eyes at me if I started going “So… Babby used to babble, but he hasn’t for a couple of months, now, and now I think he may be autistic because it runs in the family y’know etc etc etc.”

I knew that babies often put one skill aside for a while when they’re working on something else, and Babby has been very focused on learning how to move. He is now capable of dragging his body in counter-clockwise spirals as well as pushing himself backwards. He doesn’t move with great purpose or speed but he moves. We went out and bought a baby gate. Baby proofing is in the offing.

So now that he has started to work that through, he has returned to other skills, to my unspoken relief. In a matter of a day or two he want from NO babbling for weeks to yayaya, wawawa, babababa, dadadada, blah, blah, blah, and so on. He also gives high fives and has discovered clapping.

All in one weekend.

Oh, and he has two teeth.

TEEF. I HAS DEM.

A crash course in Canadian politics: Or, why your Canadian friends will be grumpy this week.

02 Monday May 2011

Posted by IfByYes in My Blag is on the Interwebs, Oh The Inanity

≈ 38 Comments

Tags

bloc quebecois, Canada, Conservatives, election 2011, electoral reform, first-past-the-post, governor general, house of commons, in contempt, Liberals, May 2 2011, members of parliament, NDP, no-confidence, parliament, parties, politics, ridings, senate, Stephen Harper, the prime minister, the queen

So, in case you haven’t heard, Canada is having a federal election today. AGAIN.

We do this every couple of years, usually because Prime Ministers have the ability to call an early election whenever they want, and often choose to do so when their approval ratings are running high.

That is not what happened this time. In fact, not only is the Prime Minister unpopular, but 60% of the country never voted for him at all. Ever.

Allow me to explain in a very simplified way. People who want to email me or comment and tell me all the stuff I missed – go easy on me. It’s hard to condense the entirety of Canadian politics into a single blog post. I’m not a politico, I’m a Mom.

(People in the UK, this is all going to sound very familiar to you).

Continue reading →

To Canadians: 10 Reasons For Non-Douchebags to Vote On May 2, 2011

29 Friday Apr 2011

Posted by IfByYes in My Blag is on the Interwebs, Oh The Inanity

≈ 24 Comments

Tags

Canada, Canada Votes, Conservatives, democracy, Election Canada, electoral reform, government, Harper, Ignatieff, Layton, Liberals, May 2 2011, MPs, NDP, politics, Prime Minister, ridings, vote, voting

It's his Canada, too

As I hope all Canadians know, we have an election on Monday.

AGAIN.

And yes, we’re tired of elections that don’t change anything and just cost a lot of our money.

YES, we’re frustrated by the first-past-the-post system (I’m in one of those ridings where my vote won’t really count. Even the other MPs don’t think they have a chance. The alternative options are a slouching guy in a funny hat and a shiny 19 year old in university).

YES, the polls are pretty clear about who is going to win the election.

And YES, that means that we may have to go through this whole rigmarole again.

So you totally need to vote:

1. “I’m tired of elections that don’t change anything and just cost a lot of money.”

Then you should totally vote. The money is being spent. Get your money’s worth, at least. Also, if no one votes in this election, everyone is going to be like “k, that one doesn’t count!” and they’ll give us ANOTHER. If there’s a big turnout, then it will be hard to argue that the will of the people is not reflected by the current government.

2. “I’m frustrated by the first-past-the-post system. One party is winning by a landslide in my riding, so my vote won’t count.”

In the Canadian system, sadly, that is true. But in that case, why don’t you vote swap with someone else? If you do that, your vote will count, so you should totally vote.

3. “I don’t trust vote swapping. What if the other guy just votes for his party anyway? Then I’ve been tricked into giving the other guy a double vote.”

Sure that is always a risk… but you didn’t think your vote counted anyway, right? Are you now saying that an extra vote would make a difference? If so, you should totally vote.

4. “I just don’t care who wins.”

Then you don’t get to complain about anything, ever. Taxes too high? Well, you should have voted. No jobs? Well, you should have voted. EI cheque too small? Well, you should have voted. The Prime Minister has proposed a new law to force all Canadians to wear bowling shoes and beanie hats? You really should have voted.

5. “I don’t know what’s going on. I feel like I won’t be making an informed decision.”

Let me Google that for you. Or, if all those words confuse you, here’s a summary of the Harper years with big pictures and comic-book speech bubbles. Form an opinion, for gawdsake. Taxes? Jobs? Economy? Religion? Freedom of Speech? Environment? These things affect you. Spend ten minutes informing yourself, and then you can bloody well vote.

6. “That doesn’t help me. I still can’t decide who to vote for. Everyone’s saying different things. I don’t know who to believe.”

Let me introduce you to Vote Compass. It examines your political views and tells you which parties fit you best. Now you can vote.

7. “Vote Compass dropped me smack in the middle of three left-wing parties. I still don’t know who to vote for.” In that case, why don’t you visit Project Democracy and see who has the best chance of winning in your riding? You’re a perfect candidate for strategic voting, because any one of several parties would suit your views. So you should definitely vote.

8. “There’s no one I want to support. The candidates are all crooks and they’re ugly.”

It’s true that Ignatieff’s creepy eyebrows look like they were scribbled on by Harper while he slept, and that whenever Harper leans into the microphone, I half expect him to moan “braaaaaaaaaaaains”, and that Jack Layton looks like a used car salesman and his chin is too pointy. The party leaders have the combined charisma of an arachnid, I know.

But remember this: the elections are determined by percentage points, not sheer numbers. So your vote actually counts twice – it adds to the percentage of the candidate you vote for, and it dilutes the percentages of the other candidates. So go vote for, like, the Pirate Party or something and screw them all over. It’s your electoral right! With a vote swap you could actually have a chance at voting in an Independant or similar MP who would take a seat in Parliament from the other parties.

It’s not ALL about who is the Prime Minister. MPs have power too. OBVIOUSLY, or we wouldn’t be having an election. Vote for the MP who looks the least useless.

9. “I hate the whole political system and I’m not going to support it by voting, because I’m all brilliant and cynical and DEEP like that.”

Yeah, because the world’s history is filled with people who changed the world by simply NOT participating in Democracy while making whiny comments on the sidelines. If you hate the system so much, change it. Vote for the people who will make those changes, or even better, put your money where you mouth is and run as an independent next election.

10.  “Like, I still really don’t think one vote will, like, matter, and I totally have a hair appointment that day and it’s super important.”

That must be what 42% of Canadians said two years ago, because that’s how many people didn’t vote.

I think that nearly 10 million people probably COULD have made a difference last election, but maybe that’s just me.

In this election, the three biggest parties are 5 – 7 percentage points away from each other in the polls. 42% of the population could make a HELL of a difference in those numbers on the actual election day, so you should totally vote. 

Make the decision to vote, and then convince everyone you know to vote, too. Send them this link. Send them other links. Convince them, too. Then it isn’t just one vote, it’s ten votes. If all of your friends convince some other people to vote, it’s even more. And more. And the next thing you know, you’ve changed Canada’s political history, all by posting a few links and then checking a box on a slip of paper.

Besides, there’s a secret 11th reason why you should vote: You are legally entitled to three consecutive hours off on Monday, PAID, to vote.

BONUS, am I right?

11. “Maybe I’ll take the time off work “to vote”, but not waste my time voting.”

…Yes, you could do that, but that would make you a lazy, deceitful douchebag. In fact, don’t vote. Because I really don’t need my country’s future being determined by lazy, deceitful douchebags. You are excused. Watch out for George Takei on your way out the door.

Why Canada Will Never Be A Superpower

21 Monday Mar 2011

Posted by IfByYes in Life's Little Moments, Perfect Husband, Pointless Posts

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Canada, cultural expectations, economy, gas prices

Perfect Husband: “Gas is a dollar freaking thirty six a litre. We’re never gassing up again.”

Me: “Argh! We should just, like TAKE OVER the Middle East. Forget the peacekeeping stuff.”

Perfect Husband: “Ha!” *mimes talking into a phone* “…I’m sorry, you’re being invaded by who?!”

Me: “They’d never see it coming.”

Perfect Husband: *still talking into the imaginary phone* “No, no, it’s okay. Just give them some beer and doughnuts, and they’ll go away.”

Me: “Damn. That’s true.”

With disappointed hearts

07 Saturday Nov 2009

Posted by IfByYes in Life and Love, Perfect Husband, Well, That's Just Stupid

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

anti-olympics, Canada, disappointment, Mile 0, Olympics, protesters, Terry Fox Memorial, Torch, torch bearers, Torch relay, Vancouver 2010, Victoria, Winter games

It is the kind of thing that people expect to be the big highlight of their lives.

Carrying the torch for Canada, on Day one of the Olympic Torch Relay. Perfect Husband didn’t win an iCoke contest, he was nominated by his coworkers, for all the volunteer hours he puts in at my work place. He has slung dog food, washed dishes, hauled equipment, dressed as Santa, and helped baby sit the many canine house guests I am constantly obliged to bring home with me. His workplace, a big Olympic sponsor, covered the cost of our trip to Victoria and even gifted him with his torch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so nervous and excited. He admitted to me that he was more nervous than he had been on his wedding day. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted. He said I should feel flattered. He had felt confident about marrying me.

As I dressed him in his official Olympic garb, and as he took deep breaths trying to calm himself, many things were on our mind. Would it rain? Would I be able to get a good view of him? Would the camera capture his run properly in the dark, with a glowing flame messing with the auto-focus?

The one question we weren’t asking ourselves was “will he actually get to run?”

But that is what we should have been worrying about.

I dropped him at the Empress and stood by proudly photographing him as he talked to fellow torch bearers and officials with clipboards. I saw his shuttle pull up, ready to drop him and the other torchbearers at their assigned start points.

It was beginning to rain.

I went home, got the umbrella out of the car, and headed off on the five block walk to his end-point (I wanted to catch him running towards the camera with the flame, and then passing it on). I was laden with a video camera, a still camera, a book in my purse, an umbrella, and Timothy the travelling bear, who gets photographed on all my travels.

I arrived an hour early, so I got a hot chocolate at Starbucks and sat down nervously to wait. I kept watching the road, waiting for it to be blocked off as a parade route. But cars continued to swish up and down the rainy street in the gloaming. It was half an hour til the run was scheduled. Twenty minutes. Fifteen. People were starting to gather with their kids and umbrellas, lining the road. Parked cars still coated the edges of the street. Traffic still swooshed. If it weren’t for the increasing  number of spectators, I would have been seriously concerned that I was on the wrong road.

I packed up my book and reloaded myself with cameras, rain gear and bear. I walked to the end point, where a bunch of employees from my husband’s company were handing out noise makers, flags, and  pom poms. We had stopped by their workplace earlier and they recognised me now, the wife of the torchbearer.  They greeted me excitedly and as we waited they offered to hold my umbrella if necessary when the big moment came. I was trying to figure out how to juggle a still camera and a camcorder, one in each hand, while Timothy clung to the straps of my purse. I played with my digital settings, trying to find a setting that could focus on the bright lights in the darkened street. I fretted that my husband would be a blur as he came by. I worried that the flame would throw everything off. It was half an hour past the time for him due to run, but I wasn’t surprised. We expected delays. When does something like this ever run on time?

We saw police up the road, and said, “finally, they’ve come to block off this part of the route!”

Then the shuttle went by and we all cheered it as it passed us. But why did it pass us? I was at my husband’s end point. He should have been dropped 300 metres up the road, and the next torch bearer should have been dropped near us. I was confused. Maybe it had been a shuttle for the previous section of bearers, heading back to The Empress?

Then a woman came by, saying “We should all head up to Dallas. They’ve been rerouted because of protesters.”

Fear struck my heart.

I followed her, calling her. “My husband is the torch bearer for this section. Do you know where they are running now?” I pleaded with my eyes. Please let me not have missed my husband’s big moment. Please.

“I don’t know,” said the lady, “I just heard they got rerouted. They’ve already gone by, I think.”

‘Oh God,” I said, voice quivering, “I’ve missed it. I’ve missed it!”

I began to run. People were already dispersing. Adults looked disgruntled. Dampened children in rain coats looked upset and confused. Where was the torch they had been waiting for so long to see? Their parents had told them it would be a moment they would remember all their lives. So where was it?

I begged people for information, but no one knew anything. I couldn’t even call him. They hadn’t let him carry any personal items onto the shuttle. No cell phone. It was the first time in years that I hadn’t been able to get  a message to my husband instantly with the touch of a button.  We text all day long. Now my phone was buzzing. I answered it desperately. Too late. I called the number back instantly and got a voice mail. “You have reached the shuttle…”  I left a desperate message, begging for information.

My phone began to buzz again moments later. It was my husband, sounding stressed and weary. He didn’t know where they were going.  He hadn’t run anywhere yet. The official message for family members was to stay put until things were sorted out. He would let me know when there was news. I returned to my post, and filled in the anxious members of his company.

The protesters were coming by. Waving a multitude of signs, ranging from elitism to native land issues to complaints about HST, they had no unified message. They banged on loud drums, and some were dressed as zombies. They won no sympathizers. The cold wet members of the public had been waiting with their children for this one big moment, the one free moment of the Olympic Games, and this loud, scary crowd had robbed them of it.

People booed as they passed, and I thought “how stupid.” My Psych-degree sensibilities were offended by this group’s poor judgement. The only way that protesters can bring about the change they desire is by winning sympathizers. Once you convince enough people that women deserve votes, that everyone deserves health care, that gay people should marry, the change you desire can be brought about. You cannot win people’s votes and sway their opinion by ruining their fun. By hurting the little people. By disappointing children and average joes who had won the opportunity of participating in something amazing.

You want to win people’s sympathies and get attention? You quietly line the route with signs. As you wait for the torch, you talk to the people around you, make your arguments, get some people to say “I never thought of that…” Then, when the torch goes by, you wave your sign, and get it photographed by the media. There’s your media exposure. No one is angry with you. No one is hurt by your efforts to make your opinion known. You gain sympathizers who respect your professional attitude.

None of this Victoria crowd seemed to respect the frightening mob, nor to be at all interested in their opinions. They had hurt children, and won nothing.

People were beginning to disperse. I was near tears. What was happening? My phone buzzed. I answered it. Perfect Husband sounded rushed, even more stressed. “We’re at the Terry Fox Memorial,” he told me. “They’re planning some kind of lighting ceremony. I don’t know if you will be able to make it. Do what you can.”

I had no idea where to go, but a couple of people from his company jumped to the rescue. Going at a run, I was led through darkened streets and along a large, dark park. My legs burned. My chest, still recovering from my cold, was tight and I coughed harsh, racking coughs. When I could run no more, a lady ran ahead of me to see if she could see the torch bearers. Desperate and plodding as quickly as I could, I and my other companion arrived at the site… and everyone was leaving. We passed person after person walking away. Large, brightly lit Coke trucks with glowing neon olympic rings on theirs sides were pulling away from the curb. It was dark, and crowded, and wet, and confused. My companion and I couldn’t find the lady who had led us there. My phone buzzed.

“I’m here, I’m here,”I said to the phone. My husband sounded tired.

“It’s over,” he said, “I’m back on the shuttle. I’ll… I’ll meet you back at the Empress, I guess.”

“I tried,” I said, my throat catching. My husband had held the Olympic flame, and I hadn’t been there to see it.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “I have to go. Other people need this phone.”

My companion, who had promised a friend of hers in Japan that she would photograph the torch, offered to lead me back to the Empress. I had no idea where I was. I was pathetically grateful, and struggling to hold back my tears. My companion and I verbally abused the protesters, and how they had managed to hurt so many members of the every-day public. And for what?

At the Empress I found more confused family members. An angry wife and her confused little boy, who wanted to know why Daddy hadn’t gone by with the flame. A worried mother, whose 14 year old daughter had been practising her torch run for months, and whose outfit she had tailored to perfection. We stood for half an hour in the rain, worrying, ranting.

“How can I explain this to my son?” asked the wife next to me. “When he gets angry and tries to throw things or hit me I tell him, “you have a right to be angry. It is okay to tell me how you feel. But it is not okay to hurt other people while you do it.” How can I explain to him that these people had less control than an eight year old child?”

“My daughter is just a girl who won a contest,” said the mother. “She isn’t a member of the government taking native land, or raising taxes. It isn’t her fault that the Olympics has come to Canada. She’s just a girl, who got a once in a lifetime opportunity, and she was robbed of it by these people. She’ll be disappointed and hurt forever over this. How is that right? Why did these people want to hurt my child?””

“My brother flew all the way from Toronto to see this moment,” said someone else, “his money is spent, and now wasted. What good does that do anyone?”

Word on the street was that the shuttle was delayed, had been mobbed and stopped by the protesters only a couple of blocks from the hotel. Finally it arrived. The big ceremonies on the stage at Parliament were almost finished, but we had missed it all, huddled in the rain and worrying about the people we loved. My husband didn’t want to talk about it. What was done was done. They had all stood in a line, and one by one the Olympic flame continued along the line. The other torchbearers had picked up the run from there. The protesters had not caught the flame. It blazed on. And only a handful of 10 people, disappointed members of the public, had lost their chance to jog down the road bearing it proudly.

My husband’s torch sported the soot of the Olympic flame. He may not have carried the flame, but he had passed it on. We were mobbed for over an hour by excited people wanting their photo with him, wanting to touch the torch, awed by the soot. I stood by the side lines while a line-up of people waited to get their photo taken with my husband, asking him questions which he nimbly dodged. Now was not the moment to be pitied. I could have stood there forever, beaming proudly. How many hours has my husband spent standing by while people asked me questions about the dog that I had to drag with me to the grocery store, the movies, his own workplace? He deserved this moment of glory, perhaps even more so than the people who had gotten to do their run.

He was still a torchbearer.

Back home, friends and family launched a search to find photos of my husband with the flame. They found two, one showing his face. I emailed the newspaper, thanking them for the photo, explaining that it was all I had. They emailed me back with sympathy, and sent me a high resulution copy.

Thanks to the Victoria Times Colonist and their photographer for this photo, which I claim no rights to, except the right to feel proud.

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    Why We Don't Want Our Son To Think He's Smart.
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    Poor Ron, Part 2: In Which I Explain That Ron Is Perfect For Hermione
  • In Which We Attend The Quidditch Global Games 2014 and are Blown Away by Awesomeness
    In Which We Attend The Quidditch Global Games 2014 and are Blown Away by Awesomeness
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    I Don't Think I Mean What You Think I Mean

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