Dear Diary,
I am following Simcoe to York - I sound like a stalker - with his wife, members of Queen's Rangers and servants. Apparently, I had to be his servant in order to join him on his 'adventure,' as he would like to call it. But I think he calls it that just to sound like a hero. I hate hero wannabes. For some reason, they seem all stuck up, and think they could fly or something, and always end up with a broken leg, and come back crawling to me, and that's when I say 'I told you so.' Well, that was mainly my little brother, but I can still relate to some other people. Although Simcoe seemed different, he didn't jump off a 2 story building, all he did was just lead us and give us a lecture on how he wanted to save the 'world.'
Once we got there, all he did was make sure that the fort was built. Well, they call the fort, a garrison, but I don't exactly find that catchy...
July 31, 1793
Dear Diary,
Guess what? Simcoe desides to live here, so that means I have to, too. Yay... The only reason I have to, is because I don't know the way back, because he has the map. Boo... And now he is drawing town plans - whatever that is - and for some strange reason, York suddenley became the colony's capital.
August, 1, 1793
Dear Diary,
I just found out what my job is for Simcoe, his therapist. A THERAPIST! I'm supposed to help him out with his 'problems.' That's crazy! I hardly know how to work out my problems, so how am I supposed to help him out with his? He gave me a letter from Sir Guy Carleton to read:
Dear Simcoe John,
I strongly disagree with you for York being our government and colony's capital. York is an easy target for the Americans to attack, we would lose the battle immediatly. I prefer that Kingston should be the capital of Upper Canada, and York should be almost like a wall of protection, so we would have a better chance to win the battle. And so, I refuse to give you some financial support to you. If York will be the capital, and not Kingston, you should be in charge of convincing the government to move to your filthy land.
Yours Truly,
Sir Guy Carleton
P.S. I am not pleased with your work. You should think again. If we lose our land, I'll say it in advanced, I told you so.
"So, what should I do?" Simcoe asked, "I mean, I'm not sure what to do. With him on my back and all, I feel so much pressure, like I'm letting everybody down."
I wasn't sure what on my back meant, but I don't think he meant it literally. I didn't know what to say, but part of me just bursted out, "Don't feel sad, you aren't letting anybody down. You are a hero, you want to change the world, and that's what you're going to to do," then I side commented, "I'm not sure you're going to change it in a bad way, or a good way."
But he didn't hear that. He thanked me, "Thank you, my young grasshopper. Taylor, I'm giving you a raise."
I was kind of annoyed by people calling me by my last name, but at least he payed me. He put some money in my hand, and left the tent. I looked down and...Oohhh, that's enough to buy me a horse....
August 11, 1793
Dear Diary,
Oh, what a relief, the Queen's Rangers helped me sooo much. They helped him through his 'challenges' as he likes to call them, by protecting the city, served its first labourers, built buildings, and built some roads and named them Yonge Street and Dundas Street. It sounded kind of weird, but at least I had a certain ground to ride on, instead of getting pelted by farmers' rotten tomatos, and yelling, "GET OFF MY LAWN STREET GIRL!"
Sincerely,
Kristen Taylor
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