The Old and the Older

This photo of our 1946 Willys Jeep CJ2A was posted here a couple years ago. We’ve had it since the late-1970s. Before we acquired it from a family friend in BC’s backwoods, it sat unused for years in an old log garage. For years my husband and another friend tinkered with it. One semester it

A Unique Form of Memoir

  It began with a book received from her son last Christmas… “Blank, recycled paper that is truly beautiful, with a wonderful leather cover and a tie to close it up. I intend to turn it into a treasure, with sketches and words of wisdom.” Those were the words of my Aunt, recorded on her

What’s the Point?

As I clipped the quaint silver cross onto a fir branch I took a good look at it. A little shabby, bare on the edges, bits of broken wire on some of the corners.  Years ago we spray painted it and sprinkled on fresh glitter to spiffy it up, but it’s still looking a little

There’s Life, and Then There’s Real Life

Last week I ‘gallivanted’ my way to a granddaughter’s wedding, a wonderful family visit and back to my own home again. Did I write during my absence? Of course. Did I write much? Of course not! Life got in the way. . As writers we’re led to believe that we should be able to write

Photo Memories of a Special Companion

In Thursday’s comments I promised a few more pictures of Ebby. Now that I am better able to look through her photos without teary eyes, I notice something. From the very beginning she was a “people dog”.  There are very few pictures of her alone, except when the person accompanying her took the photo. Ebby was

Anticipating a Fresh Start

Pushed by a bitter breeze, tiny whitecaps scuttled over the waves while layers of winter-tinted cotton batting clouds stretched across the sapphire sky mimicking the mountainous shoreline. From inside the ferry’s forward lounge we admired the view. Maybe if we hadn’t known it was the first full day of winter we might have been lulled

Remembrance Day

World War I ended 91 years ago at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. In the ensuing years we have gathered at that moment to remember and honour those who, in all wars, have served in the pursuit of freedom. One troop commander in Kandahār, Afghanistan commented this morning, “We

Obstacles or Opportunities

  Boulders litter the area in front of our lakeside cabin. Someone once bemoaned their untidy presence and voiced the wish that they could be removed. Like icebergs however, what is visible above the layer of mulched needles, bark and leaves is only a miniscule portion. Moving them would be an impossible task and so

Taken For Granted

There are words that writers are encouraged to avoid, notably time-worn clichés that suggest a lack of verbal originality. ‘Taken for granted’ is a phrase that is terribly overused, but I suspect one of the reasons may be that no other words convey its meaning as aptly. It’s the phrase that leapt into my mind