Stanley knew how to humour people and after years of working in museums spoke fluent Nutter. Usually his soft Oxford accent had a mollifying effect on even the most incensed or crazy. Then one day she came in, her iron grey head atop a wobbly arthritic gait. “What in hell do you know about Canada Day?” she spat, “You’re not Canadian.” Stan begged to differ. “Well you weren’t BORN here!” She then recounted the five generations of Meaford inbreeding that led to her birth, her fierce Anglo-Ontarian pride and her unfortunate choice of a Northern Reflections sweatshirt in Tory blue.
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