Dear Canada,

Thanks for making winter boots that actually keep my feet warm and dry.  We try to imitate your footwear here in the US but we fail.  Or we produce boots that are as airtight as a sieve or as heavy as a 5-lb bag of flour (yes, that would make the boots 5 lbs.).

But great winter gear is not all you provide, oh great Northern Nation.

You have, over the years, sent a wave of adorable boys to me.  The summer gardener.  The unflappable well-read musician.  The photographer-surfer.  The teenaged gas station attendant who is still…a gas station attendant.  All with fantastic wry smiles and enviable hair.  And what better to report back to school with than, “Oh, I have a boyfriend…in Canada.”

Canada, you taught me to toboggan and you taught me how to make maple syrup candy by packing snow into a firm shelf and pouring syrup on until it semi-freezes on a stick – instant maple lolly.

For a long time, you made my books seem expensive with your flashy Canadian dollar.

You gave me Joni Mitchell and Margaret Atwood and Eugene Levy.

You brought me friends who spiked my letters with glitter and lounge lizard tapes who understood my humor and even let me spell it humour.

In light of this, oft-overlooked cold nation, I feel it is my duty to share your cheese brilliance.  Your cheddar is at once strong without overpowering.  Slightly crumbly in texture and perfect for soup.

Thanks for that, and for the boots, the boys , creative music for chilling out, music from my childhood, and butter tarts.

I appreciate your efforts.

Emily