Happy New Year

I celebrated the New Year in one of my favorite places; Great Falls, Montana. (did I puncuate that properly?). I was happy to drive down there as my father lent me the pimp mobile and I felt like Sean P. Diddy Combs driving the SUV with heated seats.

I am not one to be overly nationalistic. I have had the opportunity of growing up in Canada, going to school in the US, spending some good quailty time in France and serving a mission in Thailand. I consider myself a citizen of all of these places as I am pretty sure I left some of my heart in each of them. Canada really doesn't have anything going on with Thailand or France (unless you acutally count the Quebecois factor- but hey, those guys aren't even the real French so that doesn't really count) but Canada does have a little something going on with the US of A. For the most part I stay pretty netural and just love both sides but last weekend I found out what it truly means to be a Canadian.

Here in lies my Canadian Pride: Canada, you know how to plow. Snow plow. Yes, O Canada your roads are clean and dry in this, the season of wet winter. I crossed the border and USA, I'm sorry to say, your dirty, ice packed roads cannot even compete with the bare roads of Canada. Canada wins hands down. For this I am proud to be a Canadian. The true north strong and free! The true north strong and bare. . . like a babies bottom. Beautiful.