Attach me to the rocks on the Canadian Atlantic.
I watched the sun rise over an ancient Medicine Wheel, and I wept.
There is a man in a grey suit who smiles freely and greets guests on the banquet level some late evenings. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, but there’s time yet.
Despite what Hugh Jackman might have you believe, Wolverine is Canadian. He’s ours. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be in Saskatoon.