A few weeks ago, I wrote that I had an almost new prosthesis that I was seeking to re-home. This is what happened next:

Julia consulted other directors of Breast Cancer Action, who suggested that there might be a program to send prostheses to developing countries. She also called the social worker at the cancer centre who told her that Canadian Cancer Society takes donations (1745 Woodward Dr., Ottawa, ON K2C 0P9. 613-723-1744). I am so grateful to her for doing this.

Throws Like A Girl , who is part of our group at Mothers With Cancer, suggested that we need "a prosthesis relocation program."

Imstell jumped in with the following:

"Maybe we [Mothers With Cancer] could just host a bulletin board where people could post their needs:

FREE TO GOOD HOME Single 36C teardrop prosthesis. Likes to travel. You pay shipping.

WANTED swimming prosthesis. Any size large enough to hide my belly.

These had me laughing out loud but I think we might actually get something like this going.

Finally, Christine told me that she has a friend who lives locally, who was in need of a new prosthesis. It turned out to be a perfect fit.

Thanks to all who commented here, via email and on Facebook. You made me laugh. And you made me feel good about the power of community.

We are off to the maritimes tomorrow (if all goes well-it's a two-day drive with two kids and two dogs). I may be offline until August 12. I feel the withdrawal pangs starting already.

A non-virtual connection with Melissa from Stirrup Queens (and author of "Navigating the Land of If"). We are both holding Nora's head on a stick.

1. If Twitter was played a role at last year's BlogHer conference, this year it was front and centre.
Many of us followed what was happening in other sessions we attended by following the keyword (called a hashtag with a #sign) blogher#09. These are my tweets from the session I attended about "Online Safety for Your Kids Who Are Online Themselves" (I had expressed in my previous post the concern that it would be all about scaremongering but was delighted to find that it was not):

"if you are an engaged parent you have less to worry about in terms of sexual predation online" #blogher09 session on online kids.

it never occurred to me to worry about kids taking pics at my son's sleepover b-day party. should i have? #blogher09 kids online session.

"every technology brings with it new fears." the take away - don't panic! i love it. panel on kids online #blogher09 do you post photos of your kids online? on facebook? flickr? #blogher09

"identifying information that your kids put online has NO correlation with sexual predation." #blogher09

"reputation management" never heard this before in online context. interesting. #blogher09. your photos and words may come back on you, kids

"we are tethering our kids" "we are raising our kids in captivity" - this is the way times have changed. #blogher09.

2. In the closing keynote, the subject came around again, to Twitter. One commenter likened her Twitter community to a support group "I think the women I've met online in the pregnancy loss community have saved my life" (I didn't get her name or blog. Let me know if you did). A powerful statement, but I can relate. She went on to say that support groups are not available 24/7 the way that an online community can be.

3. One of the speakers also observed that most people get started blogging because of someone they know in their "physical life." I thought that was interesting, because it was my spouse (a non-blogger) who introduced me to the blogosphere.

4. Another favourite keynote comment (again, if you know who said this, do let me know): "People with higher levels of income tend to be online. We need to be vigilant that our online communities are not recreating or reinforcing existing inequities."

5. As you can see, I found the content to be very rich and thought provoking this year, despite the size of the conference.

6. I do worry that some people spent so much time tweeting that they missed connections with real people or taking in the discussions occurring around them.

7. One of my favourite Twitter moments occurred when "phdinparenting" lamented her dislike for American beer. She posted about our interaction on BlogHer. It really tickled me that I could be of help. There were lots of those kinds of tweets, throughout the conference.

8. I wish the bookstore had been in a different location. One person suggested in a conference feedback thread that the bookstore would do better closer to registration. I suggested that book signings take place during cocktail parties, in the middle of the action (and of course it wouldn't hurt if free cocktails made people want to buy more books). The conference organizers have acknowledged that the placement of the bookstore in the far corner of the Expo hall was a mistake (too far out of the way. And who wants to buy a book when they are surrounded by mounds of free stuff?). While I do understand how experiments can fail (and how it must have seemed like a good idea during planning) I just wish that this particular year (when I schlepped a bunch of books in my suitcase) had not been the one where the bookstore flopped.

9. Elisa from BlogHer made an observation (in a tweet, of course), that she is trying to learn the distinction between things that are "wrong" and things that are just not her "cuppa tea." That's how I feel about the karaoke during the Friday night cocktail party. I hated it. However, others seemed to be having fun (perhaps I am just getting old), so I got myself a hot date and went to find a patio.



10. I have other thoughts but Sassymonkey and Blondie expressed them already. Go read their posts.

I said many times before going that BlogHer09 would be my last. I hadn't even unpacked my suitcase before I'd begun to fantasize about getting to BlogHer10 in NYC. Anyone want to drive down from Ottawa and share a hotel room with me?

I am having my best BlogHer ever.

The biggest difference is that I am more comfortable in my own skin, more at ease with who I am and more willing to take risks when it comes to approaching people.

I also know myself well and am making the choices that are the right ones for me. This has meant that I am not pressuring myself to "network" not doing the parties and welcoming opportunities for one on one time with interesting people. This has led to the creation of some lovely memories and the deepening of some friendships.

Yesterday, I attended sessions on "The Transformational Power of Blogging," "Blogs and Body Image: What are we teaching our kids?" and "Patient Bloggers: You are not your disease - you just blog about it every day." Every one was excellent.

I toyed with the idea of skipping the "Community Keynote" but I'm so glad I didn't. A series of bloggers read selected posts from their blogs, each more funny or sad or powerful than the next. And some really beautiful pieces of writing.

Last night's cocktail party was a little grim (karaoke! ouch!) or maybe I am just getting old ("the noise! I couldn't have a conversation!") The free booze just wasn't enough to make me stay. Luckily, I invited Elana to have dinner with me - and she said yes. A pint and a bite and some lovely conversation later, I felt restored.

Today, I have visited the vendors, talked to people and, at lunch, I did my book signing. They had us tucked away in a far corner of the Expo hall, so it was a little slow. I was signing with Ilene Chaiken, creator of the L-Word and we still didn't draw more than a handful of people. I've sold and signed a few books, though and have done as well as anyone else here.

Next up is a session on "Online Safety for Your Kids Who Are Online Themselves." I just hope it's not all scaremongering.

I think I'm going to skip the evening cocktail party and go have some deep-dish pizza with Suzanne, her parents and some other bloggers.

This time, I wasn't to oshy to ask for a celebrity photo (that's Ilene Chaiken on the left and BlogHer co-founder - and blurber of my book - Lisa Stone in the centre).

My friend Rebecca died this week. She was all of 37 years old (if I've done the math right) and she had metastatic breast cancer. She was also one of the funniest people in my online community. She was also generous, straigtforward and honest. My heart goes out to her friends and family - the people she loved, wrote about and who knew her best.

Rebecca left strict instructions that we were to shed no tears after her passing (I'm afraid I've let her down on that front but I've been doing my best) and that, instead of a funeral she wanted a celebration of her life. I'd love to join the party and to hear the stories that those closest to her would be bound to share. Because Rebecca took her fun seriously.

I won't be able to attend the celebration (Rebecca lived in Cape Cod) but I would like to do something. And I need your help.

1. In the next week or so, please go out and do something fun. Do anything at all, as long as it makes you happy. If you need inspiration, Rebecca loved dogs (especially her pit bull, Diezel), cooking, eating out (her restaurant reviews were among my favourite blog posts), her scooter, her little car, road trips, NASCAR, kick boxing, books, funny movies and music. If none of these things appeal to you, please go out and do your own thing. If you like, bring someone with you to join in the fun.

2. Let me know. You can leave me a comment on this blog, send me an email (laurie dot kingston at gmail dot com) or message me on Twitter (I'm @lauriek). Just a few words to let me know what fun thing you did in Rebecca's memory. I'll compile a list and make sure that it gets to her family.

That's it. It already makes me feel happier, thinking that there will be a little more joy in the world this week. I think Rebecca would approve.

Chemo typically turns me into a horned, fanged, clawed she-devil for at least one day following treatment. Today is that day.

My head knows the mood will pass but boy am I pissy.

But I'm trying to re-commit to having something vaguely resembling content on this blog, so I thought I'd share a couple of shots taken in a parking lot outside a Sonny's restaurant in South Florida (we'd had lunch that day at my first ever Waffle House. We were on a greasy streak).



We had just come back from a day at Corkscrew Swamp and filled up on ribs and other good fried things and I think I was a little giddy.

Anyway, this car just called to me and I made the boys take photos.

I was going to title this 'the eagle has landed' but then given my Canadian-ness , I thought 'the beaver has landed' would be more appropriate but that sounded, well, rude. (And silly, since beavers don't fly. Never mind.)

What I mean is, that I am now in Chicago, comfortably ensconced in my hotel room and ready to attend BlogHer 09.

I didn't get sick (although both my kids did) or my symptoms were really mild (or I have yet to be felled but I won't consider that option). Thanks to everyone who wished me well. I think it helped.

I am typing this (badly) on a lovely little borrowed Netbook, since my computer died on Tuesday afternoon. After calling around for the best prognosis and cheapest care, it seems like it's fixable. I'm glad but I could learn to love this little loaner, even as I adjust to a new keyboard.

Last year, you may recall that my computer took sick right before BlogHer as well. I chose to be computer-less (and while I certainly didn't mind not schlepping the thing back and forth from Oakland to San Francisco and back every day, I did miss being wired. Twitter played such a big role at last year's conference (I'm @lauriek. Follow me, if you like!) and I missed being able to read everyone's comments at day's end and add my own. Also, the comprehensive agenda was online only and I left before it was available, so that was a bit of a hassle. This year's laptop demise may end up feeling serendipitous.

I'm not going to hide behind the computer, though. I made myself some handwritten notes this morning (I try to spend a few minutes writing free-hand most days) which can be summed up this way: relax, don't let my introversion get the best of me and have fun!

I forgot my USB cable (so no photos to download until I get home) and a little gift to exchange with someone. I did remember to bring a friend's husband's forgotten wedding ring and another friend's head on a stick.

The head (well, photograph of a head) belongs to Nora who can't be here (something about having given birth to twins). Nora and I met at last year's BlogHer. I liked her very much. And I must say that she has thus far been an excellent travelling companion. There are a few of us here bearing Nora's head and tomorrow, we are going to try and pose for a group photo.

I have to head over to the conference hotel, shortly (I am staying a few blocks away) and deliver my books the bookstore. I'm doing a signing on Saturday at lunch (12:15 to 12:40). I 'm sharing the spot with Ilene Chaiken (creator of the L-Word), so I will either benefit from her spillover or be left entirely alone. If you don't yet have my book and you want to buy it at BlogHer, I promise to sign it and write something really nice.

As promised, here is a direct link to the Connected segment on cancer blogging:

http://www.cbc.ca/video/#/News/TV_Shows/Connect_with_Mark_Kelley/ID=1549366307

Or catch it online.

I'm being featured in a story on cancer blogging on CBC News Network (formerly Newsworld). Tune in this evening, between 8:00 - 9:00 p.m. ET

You can also watch online at cbc.ca/connect (I'll post a direct link to the video once the show has aired).

I promise to blog more about the whole experience (I was interviewed at home with my family and in the chemo room) but I wanted to give all a chance to check it out..

If you watch the show, let me know what you think.

We got back yesterday evening from my spouse's family cottage. It's a place I love and where I am always happy, even when the weather does not cooperate.

So despite the fact that I couldn't bring myself to go swimming and I didn't sit around on the dock in my bathing suit, I still found time to read, enjoy the company of family and make art with D. ("Who would have thought that painting could be so much fun?" he said. "Using your imagination!"), knit, go for walks, eat and drink too much and just relax. My spouse taught S. how to play Backgammon and D. taught me how to tolerate playing PayDay.

It was all quite lovely, even if we we did miss the sun.

On the very last night, though, D. woke with a fever and could not get back to sleep. He threw up twice (and copiously) on our long drive home.

I kept him home today and let him watch DVDs in his pajamas. By this evening, he was asking to go to the park.

Through it all, I comforted, fussed and nursed. And tried not to heed the guilty voice in my head: "The kid has lousy timing! I can't get sick. I leave on Thursday for BlogHer!"

This evening my head hurts and I am achy. I feel just as I did before the fever set in, on the day before my ill-fated Toronto book launch.*

I cannot get sick. I will not get sick. I am going to bed and tomorrow, I will wake up feeling well.

Cross your fingers for me, OK?

*temporarily ill-fated. Re-scheduled for October.

My friend Sean Moore, Orit's husband, posted the following note on FB. I reprint it here with his permission:

An enormous number of people have asked about donations in Orit’s name over the past 2 weeks. As many of you know, Orit was very academically minded and spent considerable time reading the medical literature and evaluating charities. We found that most cancer research charities had very high administration fees and poor impact factors. We came across some specific research, which has very good promise in helping find a cure. The Ottawa Hospital Foundation has set up a fund, which will be used 100% to go directly to this work. The discovery is very novel and was published in the world’s most prestigious scientific journal in June of this year. I will include a link to their latest publication and an easy to understand explanation:

http://www.fbmc.fcen.uba.ar/materias/qbiia/seminarios-2012/seminario-6-28-y-30-de-mayo.-hipoxia-y-autofagia/A-Nature%2012%20AOP%20may6.pdf

Here is a link to an easy to understand summary of the research:

http://www.ottawacitizen.com/health/discovery+offers+hope+cancer+heart+disease+miracle+drugs+with+video/6574966/story.html

Donations in Orit’s name can be made online by using the following link:

https://secure.e2rm.com/registrant/donate.aspx?TributeType=Memoriam&EventID=1819&LangPref=en-CA&Referrer=http%3A%2F%2Fohfoundation.ca%2F

The first page will capture the information regarding the person making the donation. Under “Donation Information”, please choose “Other” in the drop down menu and specify “As requested by family” in the space provided. Once the donation portion is completed, you’ll be directed to a page to indicate that the donation is being made in memory of Orit and to indicate if an acknowledgement should be sent. Tax receipts are immediately available after donation is done.

Donations can be sent by mail (indicate in memory of Orit Fruchtman) to
The Ottawa Hospital Foundation, 737 Parkdale Ave, 1st Floor, Ottawa, ON K1Y1J8.

Donations can also be taken by phone by calling (613) 761-4295.

1 in 8 women will get breast cancer. Research is the only path to finding better treatments and a cure to this disease, which has devastated our family and so many others across the world.

Love, Sean

"The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.”  Nelson Henderson

This message had a very strong impact on me. Orit was a very smart woman. Sean is a doctor. I trust their judgement. And I agree with their priorities. 


Let's do something great to honour a wonderful woman. Let's help fund research that will effect real change. I donated. Will you?

photo: Andrea Ross/Mark Blevis

As of Saturday, June 30th, I have been in remission for five years. This is a huge milestone and I'm very fortunate to have the chance to mark it.


But I really didn't feel like celebrating.


Just a couple of days before, my beautiful friend Orit passed away, leaving three young kids, a loving spouse and a large group of family and friends in deep mourning. I spoke to her husband Sean early on the day she died and afterwards posted on Facebook what was for me an unusually vague status update:

"Warning: This would not be a good day to tell me that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes wrong stuff just happens. And sometimes life is terribly unfair."

So much about cancer is a crap shoot. Some get cancer, some don't. Some walk away, others live with the illness forever. Some live for a long time and some die way before they are ready to go.


Orit had strength and determination and a great love for her family and community. She had access to the best health care and, prior to being diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, was healthy and fit. She never stopped fighting to live and she most definitely did not lose a battle.


Despite the fact that we lived in the same neighbourhood, I met Orit less than a year ago, not long after her cancer diagnosis. Our illness brought us together but we soon found that we had so much more than than cancer in common. We both found humour in the world around us, sought to nurture our creative selves and wore our hearts on our sleeves when it came to those around us. I had the privilege of watching her face light up when her husband got home and the clear eyed love she had for each of her kids. We had the chance to talk about being in cross-cultural relationships and about the values we hoped to share with our kids. We talked about petty grievances and big ideas. And we shared our fears, hopes, sorrow and anger at facing the scourge that is cancer.


One evening, as we were yarn bombing our local community centre, Orit and I sat on the pavement sewing a 6 foot tube of yarn onto a bike rack. As we took turns holding the piece in place and passing the needle, she suddenly said. "I really wish that we had the chance to know each other before. We would have been such good friends."


I felt my heart break as I struggled to find an appropriate and truthful answer. But I knew it would be wrong to say "We will get to be friends for a long time" or even "It's going to be OK." Instead, I said swallowing the lump in my throat, "I agree. I wish I'd met you sooner as well."


The last time I saw Orit, we had tea on her front porch while she knit. She had been in the hospital the night before because of unmanageable pain. That morning she seemed fine, if weak. She talked about convincing her oncologist to try one last course of treatment and her profound grief at the thought of leaving her children. We both cried.


And then I left for a yoga class, borrowing a t-shirt before I left. It didn't occur to me that I would not see her again.


A few days later, she was hospitalized. And a few days after that, she died.


I wish I had told her how amazing I thought she was. That I thought she was a great mother, an interesting person and inspiring in a way that transcended her illness. I wish I'd said how beautiful she was.


I've struggled for two weeks to write this blog post. Orit's family have been so kind, loving and generous to me but I can't help thinking how grossly unfairly life has treated them.


Which is why I haven't felt like celebrating.


I am very lucky to be alive and I hope to be around writing blog posts in another 5 years. None of us knows when our time will come. We need to live bravely, love fiercely and hold on to the things that matter. We need to tell those we care for how much they mean to us and to do those things we always wanted to do. No matter how long we have on this earth, we need to truly live.


I, for one, plan on doing a little more yarn bombing. I have Orit's last piece of knitting so a little bit of her will be there as well.


Care to join us?

video: Mark Blevis

Update: You can now buy or rent your very own copy of Pink Ribbons Inc.! 


You can download it.


You can rent a digital version.


You can pre-order the DVD by calling 1-800-267-7710.






I wish I could give a copy of Pink Ribbons Inc to anyone who has ever asked me why I'm down on the pink ribbon industry. The documentary summarizes all that is wrong with pinkwashing, in the most powerful terms possible: through interviews, images, facts and with women telling their own stories.

My 13 year old son and my mother in law saw Pink Ribbons Inc when it opened at the Toronto International Film Festival in September. They were both blown away. My son is a film buff and he declared this one to be one of the best documentaries he'd every seen. Last week, I was invited to an advance screening of the film and - although I was already sympatico with the message - I was riveted, moved and angered. It's incredibly well done.


The movie is based on the book by Dr. Samantha King (the author is featured in the movie) and could be separated into three threads (each of which could make it's own documentary):


The truth about cause marketing and the pink ribbons industry.


The lack of discussion and resources going into determining the environmental causes of breast cancer (or any cancer). 


How traumatic and alienating the pink ribbon industry and talk of "survivorship" is to women who live with metastasis.


It's all extremely powerful and persuasive.


My one quibble with the film is the depiction of those who participate in runs/walks for the cure as naive dupes. While there is no doubt that many of us have been led to believe that we are effecting real change when we fundraise and walk, our reasons for doing so may be more complex than the movie allows.


Taking part in these walks can be fun - a celebration of life and community. Even with all my objections and analysis, I have felt myself swept up in the fun and emotion of the Run for the Cure - all the while wearing my No Pink for Profit t-shirt. And what's more not all the money raised at every walk goes to undefined research. I know that the Week end to end Women's Cancers in Montreal (a walk featured in the documentary) built a survivorship centre from funds raised that's of concrete use to all women with breast cancer.


But the quibble is a minor one and the movie is terrific. You should see it. In Ottawa, the movie will be at the Mayfair Orleans from February 3 to 9 and the ByTowne from February 17 to 23. Check your local listings often and go! Documentaries don't stay in the theatres for very long.

I am off to a place with no internet and no phone (hard to believe but it's true. Our cell phones don't even work there).

It's also one of my favourite places in the world.

I'll be back in a week or so. Don't let me forget to tell you the story of how my prosthesis found a new home (and all the good help and advice - both humorous and helpful- that I got from my online community).

Here's hoping for sunshine!

She was known as Sepha and her blog was Undone.

I have been meaning to email her, send her a package, comment on her blog. I have been thinking of her lots.

Now we have lost another one. Another smart, funny, creative woman has succumbed far too young to cancer.

Life, sometimes is so unfair. And damn, I wish I had sent that package.

My heart goes out to her family and her Dear Other.

I hate cancer.

The random number generator has spoken and Shari and Jo will get copies of "Getting Past the Fear. A Guide to Help you Mentally Prepare for Chemotherapy." I just need your contact info! You can send me an email by clicking on the photo of my book (Not Done Yet) in the right sidebar. Congratulations!

In a couple of days, my little family is heading to Florida.

We'd been planning our road trip for some time. The decision to drive was partly about affordability but we also enjoy watching the scenery change and interacting with folks in the different states through which we pass.

This time, we were planning on doing the trip a little more slowly in order to take in more than the outskirts of cities along the way. We'd been thinking of taking a detour to Gettysburg on our way down and visiting Savannah on our way back (we have twice stayed in chain motels on the outskirts without going into the city. This notion breaks my heart).

The trip is long though (24 hours of driving) and exhausting (especially for T., who does all the driving) and while we have many great memories of our family road trips the whole thing can be a bit of a grind.

Last year, we had a great drive to PEI. The return trip was a different story. Before the keys had turned in the ignition, the boys were screaming at each other. While there were brief truces along the way (and I spent a fair bit of time in the back seat, so as to separate the siblings), I lost count of the number of times we had to pull over until calm could be restored.

The boys are both a year older now, so we were feeling optimistic.

But I couldn't help doing a little online search for cheap flights. And, after playing around for a while (it was rather like playing a game of Scrabble, or piecing together a puzzle), I was able to find a way for us to fly that was no more expensive than driving (it involved two of us flying on points and two of us going on cheap tickets but while we aren't flying together, we are, miraculously leaving and arriving at close to the same time).

We called a family meeting to discuss the pros and cons.

We were pretty evenly divided as to what we should do. There were lots of good arguments on both sides.

And then the boys started to bicker about whose fault it was that they'd fought so much on last year's road trip.

T. and I looked at each other over their heads and made our decision.

We're flying.

But I'll miss the corn bread at Cracker Barrel, the biscuits at Pop Eye and the road-side barbecue in the Carolinas and Georgia.

Maybe we'll go on a mini road trip while we're in Florida.

Update: My brain is perfectly normal. I'd still like to see the pictures but normal is very, very good.

I had a routine brain scan today, my first in two years. 

It was pretty uneventful (they got the vein for the contrast dye on the first poke) and was over relatively quickly.

I can call for results in a week or so. And I'll probably be told that everything is fine.

I wish things were like in the movies, though and a few minutes after the test, a doctor would look at the images and then we'd discuss them.

I never get to see the pictures. Wouldn't you like to see images of your brain?

This is Patrick Denker's brain. I would like to see mine.

It's not the kind of thing I'd want to advertise on Craigslist or Kijiji.

I can't set it out on my front lawn and hope someone takes it away.

I doubt the Canadian Diabetes Association or the Ontario Federation for Cerebral Palsy would want it as part of their drive to collect use goods for re-sale.

But I have a perfectly good prosthesis, worn only a handful of times that I'm sure someone could use, even if it was wrong for me (and I have replaced it with another one I don't seem to be wearing much).

The government covers about two thirds of the cost of a new prosthesis. That balance must be prohibitive for many who don't have private insurance to take care of the rest.

How do I find someone who can use it though?

Maybe someone at Breast Cancer Action would know.

Of course, I could always use my prosthesis to make art, the way Jacqueline did.

I think my inclinations might be a little more violent, though.

Thoughts?

photo: A Kaplan-Myrth

Because every Canadian finds a Mountie on their front lawn on Canada Day.

The food was good, the beer was cold and their was maple syrup in the salad dressing. Now the dogs are being driven crazy by the fireworks.

It's been a good one.

Do you know hard it is to keep track of two six year olds in a museum on Canada Day, when admission is free and everyone is dressed in red and white?

So far today I have been to the Museum of Civilization, eaten Vietnamese noodle soup, watched two boys play in a splash pad at a park and taken the dogs for a walk in the rain.

Now that the sun is out, I'm going to join friends on their back deck, watch the kids splash in the pool, eat some barbecued stuff and have a beer or two.

Very Canadian.

Today is Canada Day.

I've been feeling pretty out of sorts about my country lately, for a whole bunch of reasons (the most recent of which is our opposition to listing asbestos as a banned substance at the United Nations. Asbestos is a known cause of cancer. This kind of cancer is solely caused by asbestos. Asbestos is banned in Canada. But we still export the stuff. So it's OK to give people in other countries cancer. Shameful.)

And I really don't care about the Royal Visit.

I've only been to Parliament Hill once on Canada Day and that was more than twenty years ago, before I lived in Ottawa.

I'll be spending the day on the road, in advance of an important family event in Toronto. We'll be listening to talking books, breaking up fights between the kids and trying to convince the dog to stay in the back with the suitcases. And I won't feel like I'm missing anything.

But I am a proud Canadian, despite my country's bad choices. And July 1 always provides me with an opportunity to think about what that means. So, in no particular order, here's this year's list of things I like about my country:

Politeness. The other day my son stepped on my toe. We both simultaneous said, "I'm sorry!" There is a certain level of courtesy in our culture that I have come to really appreciate. On the street, between strangers and at home, with those we know best.

Moderation. My younger self is howling with laughter at this one but we Canadians mostly avoid excess of all kinds and I've come to really appreciate that.

Universal health care. Do I really need to explain this one?

Gay Marriage. For six years now. It's not going away and it's no big deal. Except that it is.

Neighbourliness. Canadians are generally good neighbours. We tend to be "live and let live" types (occasionally to our detriment but, mostly, it's a good thing).

An appreciation of good beer. It's not just about quantity but quality too. 

The weather. I can't believe I'm saying this but the changeability of Canadian weather is highly entertaining (when it's not downright disastrous). With weather like ours, there is always something for strangers to chat about.

Pedestrian friendly cities. I think the best way to get to know any place is to walk or ride your bike. I love that I can walk so many places in my home town (and it's a good thing, too because our public transit sucks).

And I love that many of you will disagree with me on some of these things (heck, with the exceptions of beer,gay marriage and health care, I may change my own mind tomorrow) and some of you will let me know. Politely.

Happy Canada Day! Have a moderate amount of fun and enjoy yourselves - courteously.