Musings —05.30.2013 06:12 AM—
Thirty years ago, in Ottawa, a guy walked into the place where Chris and I were sitting. He handed me a Joan of Arc medal, and walked out. I’ve been wearing the medal around my neck ever since.
Joan was murdered by the English nearly 600 years ago in Rouen – for looking like a boy. Her story is here.
Why have I worn her around my neck for so many years? Because I admire strong women, that’s why.
Here she be: