How to be Canadian

I went to Windsor this weekend to visit family (Easter and all). As per usual I had a great time connecting with the family who were fairly absent from my life for the first 27 years (not completely absent mind you- but not around for every Christmas, birthday etc). Since I moved to Toronto they have welcomed me with open arms and I've gone down on many occassion to see how the black sheep of the family lives. (and while i'm on the topic- my Dad's family in Waterloo has also done an amazing job of making me feel like family since I moved out here. It's really a testament to the power of family). Anyhoo... This time we were nearing the event of my cousin Samantha's graduation from Grade 8 so we had to go shopping for a dress for her. I'm not going to lie to you- it was a tribulation, BUT we emerged from the Detroit MASSIVE mall victorious, with a dress and shoes in tow. We then went to my FAVE store, Target, for a quick jaunt, and were off again for homeland.
So wait- this doesnt' sound Canadian at all- does it? All we did was spend our hard earned dollars in the horrid city of Detroit! But wait- I'm getting there... The next day the fam had to attend to some family duties, and I spent some QT with my Grandma.
What did we do? We watched the World Cup for Curling! It doesn't get more Canadian than that! The finals were between Canada and Germany, and Canada kicked Germany's butt. I have played curling before (in school, and in one unfortunate instance- with my work colleagues for our Christmas party), but have never watched it. I've realized it's like any sport that is in a playoff scenario- it can get pretty interesting. I also found out a few interesting facts: 1. My Grandpa played in the Brier Cup in the 50s (that's the Canada Cup thingie), and 2. There are 1 million curlers in Canada, compared to 300,000 in the whole rest of the world combined.
After Canada won the tournament, they had the ceremony to hand out the trophy and medals. Of course to mark this occassion they played the National Anthem, at which point my uncle Ross (they were home by this time) instructed the family to all stand and sing. yes you read right. It was one of the most peculiar, yet proud moments. Ross, Samantha, Syndey and I sang with our hearts out, while my Grandmother looked on. And we celebrated being Canadian.
I told this story to someone yesterday and he was suitably embarrassed for me and instructed me to "never speak of it again", but instead- I'm posting it on my blog.
The pics are of Samantha and Sydney in their Grad and Easter dresses respectively.