I’ve been thinking a fair amount about Canada recently. I think Canada is cool. Now, obviously, a lot of the time, it is very, very cool, frighteningly cool, actually, but that is not what I mean. In fact, I may have developed a crush on Canada. I’ve never had a crush before, but I think I recognize the symptoms. To begin with, you think that so-and-so is funny, interesting, smart, cool, whatever it might be, then you start to think that you know what they are like, and guess what? That turns out to be just like you. You determine that if only they knew you better/met you/ knew you existed, they would like you back, and want to be your friend too. In the case of the celebrity crush, you dream about this person meeting you and actually! becoming your friend!!*
After I first stumbled upon her (about three days into knitting) I thought my crush might be on the Yarn Harlot (whose blog was the first I think I ever consciously bookmarked or returned to), but soon I realized I was much more far gone than that. Good as the Yarn Harlot is, my crush – if it is a crush – is on Canada. Since I picked up knitting, I have encountered a number of knitting blogs, and many of them are aesthetic, literate and witty. In fact, on the record, it astounds me quite how many smart people appear to be out there, busily knitting away and writing about it coherently. But of all the nicely written blogs I come across, those written by people I instantly, intuitively feel I would like to be friends with, are disproportionately (ahem, possibly 100% so far, but there is a confidence interval to be calculated here) written by Canadians. I am assuming that there may be some genuine correlation between that civilized chunk of north America, with its civilized health service, and civilized education system and its decidedly uncivilized climate which predisposes its citizenry to turn out acres of interesting thoughts about wool.
So, exactly how cool are Canadians? Immensely. Immeasurably. May their brethren over the border take note, not only can they knit, beautifully, in droves, but they do the most perplexing of cool things: for instance, they can use metric (i.e. count in base ten), and I bet they can cope with the 24-hour clock, as well. Hey – sort of like Europeans, only more spread out than us (which I’m sure aids civility). Anyway, amongst all this thinking, I eventually decided that the resourceful, intelligent knitting bloggers who bring such honor to their country should make the following humble representation to their parliament: namely that the flag of the nation be changed to something more representative and appropriate –
It’s only a minor tweak, after all. (They might also consider renaming it Intarsia, while they’re at it: it has a certain romantic ring, don’t you think?)
*Apparently a good few million people had Lady Diana dreams like this; it was key to her mystique that she could induce an “ordinary person just like me!” fantasy. Perhaps by being manifestly as dim and uneducated as ordinary people ? (only a heightened, airbrushed, touched-up expensively turned-out fantastical one). Hence the carefully nurtured myth- or more accurately, technicality, that she was ” a commoner”.