I live in a village on the north shore of Nova Scotia. Most people say it’s beautiful, and they’re right. They also say we’re ordinary people, and we don’t argue. We fish, farm, and turn our hand to whatever might put food on the table. We try to charm the tourists so they’ll come back with more cash next year. We party Saturday night, go to church Sunday morning, and wish Monday would fall off the calendar.
And we’re kind to our dead.