When I was growing up in Toronto, the only time I heard French spoken was in a classroom.  Most French-speaking Canadians live in another province – Québec.

And did I ever hear Dutch spoken?  Maybe on a downtown street as people passed by.  I probably would have said “What’s that?!”  The sharp sounds are worlds away from the flow of French.

And here I am sixty years later, living in Belgium, where the official languages are Dutch, French and German.

Today was my Music Theory class.  It’s naturally taught in Dutch, since Gent sits within Flanders, a predominantly Dutch region.  I passed levels one and two of language training but it’s still largely a mystery to me.  I recognize words but making sense of sentences spoken quickly is beyond me.

After class today, four of us guys lingered.  Jérome was having a problem.  I later found out that his accountant was charging him a lot of money.  Jan and Ben were chiming in with words of wisdom.  I sat there silently.

What unfolded was lovely to behold.  The guys flowed in conversation, mixing in French and English sentences with the Dutch.  It looked effortless for them.  I was in awe.

What a different world it is in Europe, in many ways.  I embrace the new moments.  I embrace my new home.  I am one fortunate human being.

But first … breaking news!

Canada Has Invaded the United States

Can you believe it?  Early this morning, troops poured over the border near Montreal, Toronto, Calgary and Vancouver into the US.  Resistance is minimal.

Apparently Donald Trump has been offered a job serving coffee at a Tim Hortons in Toronto.

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April Fool’s!

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Now, about the really exciting news.  On Saturday I’ll be in Canada … and I’m going to buy ten new shirts.

I bet the last time I bought a shirt was ten years ago.  How’s that for longevity?  Clothes just haven’t been important to me.

But now the collars are fraying, the fabric is thinning, and I’m starting to hide my shirts under sweaters.  But guess what?  Here comes spring – too hot for sweaters.  So it’s finally time to act.

I did a Google search for “permanent press shirts in Gent” and came up with approximately nothing.  Now Canada beckons, and Toronto’s huge Yorkdale Mall.  There’ll be all sorts of clothing shops, perma-press shirts of infinite colours and patterns.  And yes, I want colour.  Maybe I’ll buy one shirt for each room in my apartment!  Red, green, blue, yellow, purple  and orange.  Why not?

I love perma-press.  Take them out of the drier when still a bit moist.  Hang them on hangers.  Et voilà!  No wrinkles, no ironing.

I’ve had a ritual this week, celebrating the end of one shirt each day, wearing it for the last time.  All worn out.  Today I’m adorned with a lovely but ancient mauve one.  I used to wear it with a tie at parties and fancy concerts.

Last time

You’ll be happy to know that I land in Toronto on Friday at about 7:45 pm local time (1:45 am Saturday in Belgium).  On Saturday at noon I pick up my rental car.  And 1:00 pm or so will see me walking the expanse of Yorkdale, with all the time in the world to find the ten precious shirts that say “Yes”.

Soon I’ll be a happy wearer

And actually … I’m already happy