writers’ club

I was looking for something completely unrelated to this particular memory. I know it is somewhere in my home office, possibly in a crowded desk drawer or an even busier bookcase. Maybe it’s near the bottom of a pile of papers in the closet. I don’t know, because I haven’t found it yet. But I will. It’s an old address book my mother kept. A lot of the entries were made when we still lived in England, and that was 60 years ago. Some were made after we came to Canada. I stopped looking for it when I was sidetracked by the discovery of Lynne’sRead More →

“There’s an old and faded picture on the wall That’s been a-hanging there for many a year ‘Tis a picture of my mother for I know there is no other That can take the place of mother on the wall” That’s the first verse of an old and faded song by the Carter Family. I bet most people have a mother photo hanging on a wall somewhere in the home. I know I do. In fact, one hangs on the wall in our computer room. It’s old, but it isn’t faded. It’s an old black and white head and shoulders shot. I’m not certain of whenRead More →

For International Women’s Day 2017, I have resurrected and updated a column I had in the Guelph Tribune on this day in 2012. It sometimes feels like we are five years further forward and fifty years further back. ***** Misogyny is the hatred of women. It’s not a pleasant thing to think about today, International Women’s Day, but it just won’t go away . It would be nice to think we could get through at least one day in relative peace, but we won’t. Today, somewhere in Guelph, more than one man will lash out in anger. More than one wife, daughter, sister or motherRead More →

It was a nice day for a walk. The sky was blue, with dots of white clouds here and there. The ground was snow white, with dots of yellow here and there. I always look for the blue sky. Charlie always looks for the yellow snow. He found some right away at the base of the hydro pole that stands at the mouth of our driveway. After he had finished exploring it, he looked up at me. “Was I a rescue dog?” he asked. “No,” I said. “We got you from a breeder. Why do you ask?” Charlie set his back leg on the groundRead More →