A few days ago I began my morning as I usually do—yes, on my laptop, scrolling through the mostly-nonsense and occasionally interesting facebook postings of the past twenty-four…okay, maybe twelve…hours. Someone I barely know went to a wonderful concert; it’s a friend’s birthday and do I want to send him…
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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…
2 CommentsA 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…
4 CommentsIt 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…
6 CommentsIt 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…
4 CommentsOver 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…
3 CommentsEvery 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…
7 CommentsNew writing project underway: A Collection of Short Memoir and Essays Triggered by Childhood Memories.
6 CommentsIt hasn’t been a winter for blog posts, somehow. Not for lack of things to think about and write about, certainly not for lack of time, but rather for lack of energy and focus. Our stay in Mexico has been dominated this year by the search for an explanation and…
8 CommentsA 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…
4 CommentsFacebook reminds me that one year ago we were at home in Echo Bay, Ontario, experiencing late winter in the north for the first time in many years. We’d left our Mexican home in a frenzy, having just learned that Jack had a large, malignant tumor on one kidney. The…
6 CommentsThis 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…
1 CommentFrom 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…
3 CommentsI’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…
3 CommentsOn one of our first dates, in the risky sixties, Jack and I went to an amusement park. The only thing I remember clearly is the roller coaster. Jack feigned nonchalance and I pretended to be keen, and so we both ended up scared to death in an attempt to…
4 CommentsA 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…
6 CommentsThe 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,…
3 CommentsI 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…
6 CommentsYesterday we came home from a week at the lake. It’s never a good idea to leave home for a week in June, although we usually do. And, as usual, we returned to a lawn — or what passes for a lawn — in desperate need of mowing. (Some of…
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