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Paula Dunning Posts

Twinkle, Twinkle

I’m not musically gifted. As a child, I took piano lessons under duress for years, rarely practiced, and never progressed very far. I refused to participate in recitals. As a young adult, I took some lessons in an attempt to uncover previously hidden talent, but it didn’t work out that…

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Revisiting Laura

A few days ago, after a reading marathon, I closed the cover on Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilderby Caroline Fraser. As an unrepentant admirer of “Laura”, I was intrigued by Fraser’s revelations about Laura’s life that filled the cracks between her books and placed her story…

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Morning Visitor, Part II

It wasn’t quite so funny again this morning around 2am, when once again I was awakened by a ruckus in the kitchen. Of course, after the adventures of yesterday morning, we’d closed the kitchen windows tight. But there it was, in the kitchen again. How could this be? Early yesterday evening, Jack…

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Morning Visitor

It wasn’t quite light this morning when I woke up to a strange clinking sound coming from the kitchen. In my half-awake state, I assumed Jack was already up and had let the cats in. Our cats are nocturnal animals who often spend their nights outside hunting mice. But what…

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What’s a Quaker anyway?

Over many years, and in many conversations about childhood and religion, I’ve been pelted with questions about Quakerism. Although I fomally abandoned my ties with Quakerism in middle adulthood, no longer able to accept even its dogma-free tenets, its echoes stay with me. Unlike the many lapsed Catholics I know, who…

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“When old men plant trees…”

Every day I brace myself for more evidence that the world is slipping into an abyss of natural catastrophe and political/cultural disintegration. I’m rarely disappointed. I try not to fear for my grandchildren, but how can I not? The Antarctic ice shelf is collapsing much faster than predicted. I live…

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A Rosy Glow

A few days ago, I glanced up at the kitchen window here in our Mexican home, and I felt a sudden sense of rosy optimism. This is so unlike me that I looked again. Yup. Rosy. “Jack. Look at the light.” “It must be the sun.” “But the sun has…

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Musical City

This year’s been off to a slow start for me–since I’ve been laying a bit low (and feeling sorry for myself) in with a bum hip. But spending last evening in el centro, first eating a scrumptious meal at Valadez and then wandering across the street for Strauss, Dvorak, and…

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Time…and Time Again

From Guanajuato, where we’re settled for the winter. For quite a few years I’ve been receiving a “a-word-a-day” in my inbox—an unusual English word with a definition and etymology, some examples of its usage, etc. Sometimes I pay attention, but lately I’ve been deleting it without even looking. For some…

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Grandpa Smith’s Cookie Cutters

I’m sure you recognize these cookie cutters: a faux-festive leaf, a doomed turkey, a stunted evergreen. At one time there was a Santa whose pack protruded from his back, giving him a distinctly hunch-back profile. I don’t know what became of him. Not to detract from their utility; they and…

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A Sterling Review

A couple of weeks ago I got an email from an acquaintance in Mexico telling me how much he was enjoying reading Shifting Currents. He bought the book from me last winter, but must have left it languishing on his shelf until recently. Of course, I always puff up a…

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Heat Wave

The summer that wasn’t seems to be morphing into the fall that isn’t. It’s the end of September and the temperature outside is pushing 30 degrees Celsius at 10 am. The hill shows barely a hint of colour. Yesterday we came home from a week at our Lake Superior cottage,…

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Old Quilts

I went on a closet-cleaning binge a few weeks ago, prompted by my need to find space for five boxes of books. Ever hopeful, I’d ordered a hundred more copies of Shifting Currents. One thing led to another, and I found myself scurrying from one closet to another. Eventually, I…

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