Live. Love. Laugh.

Many things in life bring a smile to my face, but few create such a rich kaleidoscope of images as the sound of skates on ice. The raspy, fluid sound of the blades, as they carve into the surface of the ice on a cold winter’s night. Etched in my mind, Read More

Abit of creative writing…

She stepped off the bus, partially consumed by the exhaust dense in the frigid night air.  She was stocky and squat, almost square, her actual shape concealed under a heavy coat.   A thick wool scarf knotted at her neck.  A hat pulled low, fur ear flaps resting on her Read More

It happens every year.  We know it’s coming. Well, us northern folk do anyway.  Yet, every year we seem surprised when it actually hits.  And right now it’s just days away… maybe several, but still only days.  Snow, snow and more snow.  Then of course there’s the shoveling.  Lots and lots of shoveling.  There are some gluttons among us who actually enjoy winter. The  warm, woolly socks types.  Scarves wrapped up to here and sweaters pulled down to there.  They tromp through the snow Read More

Charcoal, graphite, granite, smoke, slate, steel, silver, ash, pewter, salt and pepper, Chicago slush, winter sky. No matter what you call it, they’re all shades of grey. And all beautiful, too, (Well, maybe not Chicago slush.) in silk, wool, linen, paint colours and, even, hair. Yes, I am a huge fan of grey hair, in all its glorious shades. And yes, on women, too. Men can do it, why not us? Read More

One of my favourite Hallowe’en memories happened a few years ago not at home greeting Trick or Treaters, but when traveling around the beautiful Eastern Townships in Quebec. It was in part a weekend getaway, but mostly a chance to Read More

In this world where we are so constantly connected to each other, digitally, at least, the idea of being alone is frightening for some people. It seems we’re afraid to be by ourselves. For some it’s because they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. Others maybe just so used to doing things with husband, kids, friends, the idea is foreign to them. The art of solitude is slipping away.

Somehow we’ve developed an idea that being alone is not a good thing. We equate it Read More

That could be read as “What do you want?”, like what one might say to an annoying person who’s interrupted you for the tenth time. But in this case, I mean it to be read in the most sincere way as “What do ­ you want?” Really. What do you want for you? Read More