Last night, as I wandered into my bedroom, I was startled to find my beloved wife Amy, pictured here, leaning up against her pillow engrossed in the most recent issue of The Beaver, a Canadian history magazine.
Amy has always vigorously claimed, in public and in private, to not give a fig about history. The sincerity of this claim is something I've always doubted, suspecting that, deep inside, there is a secret history buff just aching to come out. This is evidenced by her often limp-wristed resistance to being dragged to various forts and other historical sites around the province and, once there, her thinly disguised interest in her surroundings (I once looked on as Amy stood riveted to a musket demonstration at Fort George, literally hanging on the War of 1812 re-enactor's every word).
When she set down the copy of The Beaver last night, I saw that she had left it folded open on the floor next to the bed. When I picked it up, I noticed that the article she meant to return to was entitled, "Name games: There's a reason why researching your East Coast roots is so confusing."
What could it mean? A new interest in genealogy? A joint project in tracing our common Scottish roots? A weekend trip to the Ontario Genealogical Society conference next spring?
One can only wait and wonder.