And we heard the familiar sounds of our fellow Canadians. Honestly, it started on the plane. Two ladies, settled into the row behind us, jokingly gave the guy who needed to get into the window seat past them the gears. One of 'em quipped:

"Ya shoulda got here first ya know"

And his appropriately Canadian reply....

"Ya, I shoulda, SORRY"

It didn't stop there. Our enthusiastic Air Canada flight attendant made me smile when she redirected a passenger to the other side of the plane

"Youse go over dere"😊

Oh, the sights and sounds of home. We were suddenly surrounded by beards, ball caps and beer bellys. Work boots and bedazzled back pockets disembarked with us in Cowtown, and--even at the tail end of June--two guys in front of us managed to talk hockey for 4 solid hours.

It was on my mad rush to the airport bathroom that I started to recognize my people. We are easily identified by our comfy Canadian uniform: Lulu lemon yoga pants, T-shirts and hoodies.

And lest we forget the culinary delights of this fine country, Cohen and Mason were in an all out sprint through Pearson Airport to get to "The dubs", they practically inhaled their Papa burgers, poutine and frosty A&W root beer. I opted for the long line-up at Tim's. Canadian culture at its finest.

This got me thinking about culture here in Canada. Culture is one of those elusive concepts. We tend to recognize the elements of cultures that differ from ours, yet rarely notice our own. We tend to be culture-blind to the life we consider ordinary-regular-normal. On top of that, we are a proudly multi-cultural population; everyone except our First Nations came from somewhere else, and we are a very young independent nation, still cutting our teeth at a measly 149 years.

I can attest to this. Years ago I recall flippantly remarking that Canada had no culture. It seemed to me that compared to some of the glamorous, centuries old, art and history rich places in the world Canada was lacking. Since then I've been granted many a chance to observe Canadian culture from the outside looking in. I'll be the first to admit, distance did indeed make my heart grow fonder. I've gained a whole new appreciation for our home and native land..

Travelling has given us the chance to guest-test a variety of cultures, but an equally cool side effect is that it has helped us to recognize and appreciate our own. Every re-entry to the homeland reveals a new Canadianism; some I'm very fond of: friendliness, politeness, cleanliness, hardiness and good humour. I've gained a new respect for our health care, election processes, gun control, and sanitation standards. And recently, when airport security confiscated my contraband bottle of water, Cohen was quick to remind me it was ok, we are in Canada, we can drink clean water from every tap! 💦 Oh Canada, not perfect, but darn fine.

On the flipside, there are some Canadianisms that are a tad less flattering. Only after years away from home (living in the states) was I able to clearly hear that we Canadians do, in fact, have a rather distinct accent.

Ya know whad I mean, eh? Ya, fer sure.

And, after our recent visit to Lisbon, we all felt rather drab amid the fabulous looking and well dressed the people of Europe.

It was honestly a treat to see women walking dogs and riding scooters dressed in gorgeous print dresses and strappy shoes. And who am I to complain about sharp dressed European men? I am no fashionista, but I did notice a distinct lack of plaid out there in the world.

Be it Canadian modesty, crazy cold weather or our quest for fleecy comfort, I must admit that sometimes my Northern Refections are rather unflattering.

Still, when you've been gone for a spell, there's no place like home. Our country, strong and free. We missed our friendly, greeting, smile, look you in the eye, no problem kinda people. We missed our wild weather, and the ability to talk about it with anyone, anywhere, ad nauseam. We missed reliable Wifi and freedom to use it. We missed tap water, warm showers, toilet paper and, well toilets in general 🚽. We missed the quiet, the fresh air and we missed you.

We love the world, and as the saying goes: "we haven't been everywhere yet, but it's on the list." We've discovered that for us, part of the thrill of travel is knowing we always have a safe place to land, a beautiful place to call home. It's fun to look, taste and try the foreign and far away, yet for this Canadian gal, the majesty of a mountain beats any monument or museum, and a crystal clear, ice cold lake trumps even the most renowned colleseum or cathedral of empires past.

So, as soon as our feet were back on rich Canadian soil, I hiked up my Lulus, laced up my runners, tossed on a Joe Fresh t-shirt, packed up the Jeep and headed for the great outdoors. And, as usual, we tuned into the CBC for the latest episode of a Stuart McLean's "The Vinyl Cafe." , one of our country's well loved story tellers.

Ahhh, here we are. Settled into our deck chairs and watching the sun set thru the mountain peaks. After a deep breath of fresh air and a swig of Canadian beer we toast the day:

"She's a beauty"