Where I'm From

There is a kind of meme going around based on a poem by George Ella Lyons,"Where I'm From."The poem has become so widely imitated that you can now print out a template to help you write your own version. (The template seems to have been around for at least a couple of years, but I only heard about it recently.)

This is my attempt. I didn't do very well trying to use the template, so I just did it my own way. (I realize that for many of these things you'd need an annotated version or at least hyperlinks to know what I'm talking about (unless you came from the same place), but for now it's going to have to stand on its own.)

Where I'm From

I am from glass baby bottles, Buffalo markers in a tin, snowboots with buckles, Jelly Tots, and Brownie scarves with orange maple leaves

I am from the hard red swings in Soper Park, bike rides down McNaughton Street hill, Galt Arena skating races, and sunburnt afternoons on the sand of Georgian Bay.

I am from long voyages in creaking ships and Conestoga wagons. I am from weavers and blacksmiths and small-town storekeepers, from Branchton and Glen Morris and Killean, and other places gone from the map. From been-here-forever and make-the-best-of-it.

I am from the United Church of Canada, from Messengers and strawberry socials and stewardship and the Threefold Amen. I’m from the shakeup time and if you’re thirsty and dry lift your hands to the sky. And I’m from the after time too.

I am from Aunt Alma’s pastels and tubes of paint, and her shelves of old school books. I’m from Aunt Katie’s funny poems and card tricks. I’m from Grandma McKellar’s paperback mysteries and her backyard-plum jam—-bottled and sealed like the things we kept inside ourselves.