I’ve all at once been thinking very hard and also trying not to think about the terror attacks in Paris. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to say it, I really haven’t processed it. Everyone I know in the city has been marked as safe (thank you facebook). The weight of human suffering from the rest of the city that isn’t safe is too much to bear, and I’m afraid I might lose my mind if I think too much.
Whenever anything like this happens in the world I always think of how lucky I am to have my nice home in Canada, Canada the safe, developed, nice country.
I always have the thought “that couldn’t happen here”.
But France… I’ve spent summers I France. I felt safe there. France was a nice, safe, developed country.
It goes to show that it can happen anywhere, anytime, and to anyone. Because I’m sure that the people who died in these attacks were not bad people, and did not have affiliations with gangs, and didn’t do all of the things that my naive self thought you had to do in order to end up getting shot.
It’s eye opening.
To take my mind off of all of that, I went to the Royal Winter Fair.
I petted lots of sheep, alpacas, rabbits, goats. I saw the sheep to shawl competition. I bought local wool.
It was a relief to get back to what I feel like is a simpler way of life. As I said to Alex later, I think I’m a country girl that just happened to grow up in a city, because these kinds of things make me feel like I’m coming home, even if it’s a lifestyle I’ve never known! I’m odd like that, so different from my parents, who couldn’t live without access to the arts and culture in the city, and the convenience of it. I do love theatre, and art, but I would give it up to live more simply, and not be haunted by the pollution of the city that makes it hard to breathe sometimes.
Bonus Angora bunny: