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Daffodils and tulips and spring, sigh
The daffodils in the ravine behind my garden gate are laughing at me. Taunting me. Tormenting me. These are the bulbs that I didn’t plant two autumns ago because I wouldn’t be here in the spring. They are the bulbs that I did plant last fall even though I wouldn’t be here to see them this spring. But here I am, and there they are. Their nodding yellow heads are joined by a small plucky forsythia bush that I planted almost four years ago, and which the rabbits almost killed the first winter. Since then, it, and the other flowering shrubs I lovingly planted… Read more…
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Here we go again
Does anyone else feel like we’re living in the movie Groundhog Day? Cases are down, let’s reopen. Cases are up, close down again, but only sort of. And repeat. Ad nauseam. It reminds me a bit of the childhood camp song we learned from Sharon Lewis and Lambchop. This is the song that never ends… You can thank me later for putting that ear worm in your head! I’m feeling a bit frustrated with the current state of affairs today. I’d like to rant and rave, but there’s nobody to yell at. Some people are doing a good job of obeying whatever… Read more…
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The comfort of traditions
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the comfort of traditions. We’re supposed to want change all the time. Continuous improvement, self-improvement, bigger, stronger, faster. Change is the only constant, they say. But sometimes the comfort of tradition is what we crave. Yesterday, I felt drawn to make crepes on Shrove Tuesday the way my Mum used to make when I was little. I haven’t made them in a long time, but it felt right this year to go back to that tradition. I’m out of practise though and they were not quite as thin as they should be. Maybe… Read more…
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Mind over matter (aka throwing oneself at the ground)
I have never wanted to throw myself directly at the ground. Not once have I considered skydiving or bungee jumping. Being parallel with the ground is a different matter. I love ziplines and would paraglide in a heartbeat. And watersports are a definite winner. But throwing myself at the ground just seems foolhardy. A few years ago, my kids and I took a the big “blowout” family holiday – the last chance we would have for one before my eldest became a fully-fledged grownup with the lousy vacation schedule that comes with a first job. We went on a Costa… Read more…
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Sharing fiction fearlessly – well almost fearlessly!
Finally, 2020 is coming to a close. Just a few more days left. Vaccines are in the offing, so there is a reasonable chance that 2021 will be better. I’m counting on it. Way back in March, when the world went crazy, I sadly – and a bit angrily – slammed the lid back on the box of my sabbatical writing plans and turn my attention back to corporate writing and communications. That worked for a while, as we were insanely busy through until at least September. But recently, the seal of that box seems to be failing. Ideas keep…
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Virtually giving thanks
It’s been a strange Thanksgiving weekend. There was no family gathering, no turkey, no stuffing and no cranberry sauce. Without the festivities to keep me occupied, I put the garden to bed and covered the patio furniture. These are things that remind me we’re about to be shut in our houses, with cold weather coming. It usually reminds me of gatherings in front of fire places, red wine shared and the promise of Christmas coming faster than I want to admit. But this year, there’s a depressing painting spreading out in front of me. The global coronavirus, and our inability… Read more…
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The hard work of families
Families are hard work. Whether they’re the ones you’re born into, the ones you marry into, or the ones you grow along the way, the roads are full of bumps and bruises, tears and hurt feelings, temper tantrums, secrets and exasperation. Of course, they’re balanced by – and hopefully tipped in favour of – sweet memories and raucous laughter, sticky fingers and kisses, stolen glances shared moments and celebrations. I grew up in a very small family. My parents were immigrants from the UK, so every time we sat down for dinner it was a family reunion. But even back in… Read more…
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What’s in a name?
I changed my last name when I got married. Thirty years ago, that wasn’t uncommon. I went from a bland 5 letter surname to a bland 4 letter surname. 15 years ago, I got divorced and I kept that name. It was the same name my children had, and I wanted to cement the connection – and not make another change in their young lives. In the last year or so though, I’ve begun to wonder. Should I change it back? Professionally, I was only known by my maiden name for 6 months, so it hardly makes sense in that…
