Remember, Remember...

November is my favourite time of year.  I know you probably do not believe that this is possible, but it really is. 

There are a lot of things that make many people dislike November.  High suicide rates, break-ups, depression, the end of baseball season (for Jays fans this is much earlier),  trees that are no longer full of colourful foliage, and in the words of G 'n' R there is also the "cold November rain". The cold November rain takes on a new meaning if you live in Peterborough.  A walk through the Trent campus, which is grey and dreary to begin with, becomes even more of a grey and dreary walk when the cold and raininess of November are added to the mix.

When it comes to much despised months of the year, November tops the list alongside of February.  In fact if you think of songs that are about November and February, I would guess that with the exception of Emerson Drive, most artists hold them up as examples of months when nothing good happens.  The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald sung by Gordon Lightfoot comes to mind with his imagery of the November storms on Superior as the "witch of November come stealing".  In poetry we are warned by English folklore to "remember, remember the fifth of November" in honour of the terrorist plot of Guy Fauks.  

The winter months, especially for northern nations such as Canada are harsh and bitter. October is saved from this association by Thanksgiving cheer(if you are Canadian) and the thrill of Hallowe'en. December is redeemed by Christmas with its cheer and goodwill. January is often spared ill-will because of the new beginnings associated with New Years and the fresh opportunities for resolutions that come with it.  March has Dr. Seuss, Alexander Bell, spring training and, last but not least, for those of us who are of Irish descent and many others who believe that they are, we have Saint Patrick's Day. April usually receives Easter as its monthly holiday and when it does not, it is usually clear that winter is on its way out, the same way it came in, with rain.

That said, I like November. November holds promise and anticipation. Many people increase their physical activity in November as a result of the looming months when they will no longer be able to go for a walk in just a sweater or jog in the outdoors free of the risk of slipping on ice or being hit by a snowplow. November also has a phenomenon that has been referred to by its politically incorrect name as an "Indian Summer".  This is when temperatures that have threatened frost for weeks, forcing a rush on the fall harvest, suddenly climb into the high teens and compel many people who should be writing essays and doing readings to spend their day at the zoo or hiking.

November also holds Remembrance Day for Canadians.  A time when people of all ages gather to celebrate the sacrifices of those who have gone before us, for the freedoms that we still enjoy today.  Sacrifices of time, energy, and in so many cases, sacrifice of life. Not only is it good to remember those sacrifices, but it is good to remember the freedoms that they brought. The freedom to shape and mold our nation from the inside, by choice. November 11th is the one day when Canadians hold their head up high and refuse to be embarrassed by the age of the battleships in our navy, by the colour of our military camouflage, by our comparison to other nations on the world stage or by any other factor that would often cause Canadians to poke fun at themselves before someone else does it for them.

However, our rich heritage gives us something to hold our heads, and standards, high about. We should pin on our poppy, stand as straight as we can, sing our anthem and then with a tear in our eye we should all say a thank you to the dwindling number of aging men and women who have protected our nation from the waves of militant ideologies that have threatened our freedoms since the days even before this nation's inception.

Remembrance aside, the anticipation that November builds is also a reason that I love November.  The promise of the first snow, frozen ponds, walking in from the cold to get a steaming mug of hot chocolate are all good reasons.  I also love the expectation of Christmas.  Family, friends, Christmas baking and a moment to remember another Sacrifice that was freely provided for us.

With the rise of commercialism, I find myself wondering, like Charlie Brown and Cindy Lou Who, doesn't anyone know what Christmas is really all about?

It would appear that there will be a lot to mull over in the coming months. Don't dwell on Shakespeare's killing frost or the atmosphere in Walmart. 

Count your blessings and remember.