Tuesday morning started with a surprise bite of cold wind and rain that reminded me I hadn’t yet dug out my insulated coveralls. The chores were done, and for once, I didn’t know what to tackle next. Anne, ever quick to spot a lull in my momentum, suggested, “Maybe we take a day away tomorrow. A little rain-day road trip.”
So Wednesday, off we went—Anne, me, and our daughter Tess, who happened to have the day off. Even better, we took Tess’s truck, which smells considerably nicer than the farm truck.
Our destination was MacLeod’s Scottish Shop in Stratford, a small business Anne’s been eager to visit. She’s got a soft spot for anything made of fine wool—sweaters, tweed purses, you name it—and she’d been chatting with Rob MacLeod about some holiday ideas we’re cooking up together.
By the time we arrived, the rain was steady, the kind that soaks your jeans from the knees down. We popped inside, browsed for a while, met Rob, and had one of those easy, friendly conversations that make you glad you left the farm for a day. Somewhere in there, I mentioned I’d brought my old Scottish cap for a photo, but left it in the truck. Rob laughed and said, “You’d better go grab it—we’ll get that photo.”
So off I went, back out into the rain. Traffic was busy, and I had to wait at the corner to cross. That’s when I saw it—a lovely older couple huddled under an umbrella, the kind that’s just a bit bigger than two people really need. Perfect, I thought.
Without a word, I stepped up beside them, ducked slightly under their umbrella, and faced forward like I belonged there. After about five silent seconds, I turned and said, “Don’t worry—I won’t be staying with you all day.” Then, with a grin, “But you’ve got a very nice big umbrella.”
The lady chuckled, her husband smiled, and she said, “Why yes, we do.” We chatted briefly—they were from Grand Rapids, Michigan—and by the time the light changed, we were all laughing.
As I jogged across the street, I thought: that’s as Canadian as it gets—finding shelter under someone else’s umbrella and making friends before the light turns green. I bet they’ll tell that story for years about the soggy Canadian who sought shelter on a Stratford sidewalk.
Sometimes, it doesn’t take much to make a memory—just a bit of rain and a borrowed corner of kindness.
Farmer Rod