Wearing his favourite colourful toque and grey plaid pyjamas, my good-humoured neighbour with the
handlebar moustache apologized for the kerfuffle in the parkade, shovelled a metre of snow off the
centre of the curb with marvellous vigour, and travelled a kilometre on a Zamboni to cash a cheque
(plus a few loonies and toonies) for a two-four, a litre of maple-flavoured double-double, and some
savoury poutine before his shinny team's defence practised behind the aluminum-sided theatre, eh?
Alongside the -our, -re, and doubled-l words, tossing in apologized, curb, and
aluminum makes the mix unmistakably Canadian rather than British.