If you were to ask me one of my greatest fears – apart from the obvious of anything threatening the wellness or safety of those I love . . . and heights – I’d tell you it’s being boring. I have a pathetic attention span. I know it. MrWI64 knows it. I’ve lost you, he’ll…
Category: A certain age
The biggest event of my first nine years
There was a baby in the world to whom I could share the lessons of my nine years, could play with and show off around the neighbourhood. I could play house with a real baby!
We’re still together. April Fools.
He and I were the most unlikely of couples and I’ve no doubt friends and family were putting odds on how long we would last.
60 years ago today
I went deep into Mom’s cedar chest this week and there, below newspaper clippings, letters and family portraits, I foun
Fritz Perls, cigarettes, and the summer of ’69
I was vacuuming today in my Cinderella life when I got to thinking about the Lakeside Motel where I spent part of a summer perfecting my smoking skills while working as a chambermaid. I’d ride my new 10-speed out to the Lakeside wearing cutoff jean shorts my dad had confiscated and I’d found. Every day…
My pandemic birthday
A young man I’m fond of turned 10 last week. It was a weird birthday by most standards: just back from the States he, his sister and mom were in isolation and mom was sick. She rallied to lay on a favourite meal but there was no party, no noisy gathering of little boys in…
My week of neck salvage
(Note: This post will be of zero interest to men. Trust me. Zero.) I don’t do much reflection gazing these days because I’m always a little surprised by what I see. Mom! How did you get there? So I must’ve looked like fresh meat last month when I found myself ensnared in the clutches of…
Birthday memories defined by mumps, stitches, and family
Happy birthday. I’d been saving for your education, but decided this would be a better time (a fair assumption given I kept skipping final exams to take summer jobs on newspapers). No Pollyanna, my mother was all realist.
40 years ago I had another baby
When she was three I watched from a viewing platform as she leapt into the deep end of a pool during a swimming lesson. She came up coughing and blubbing and ready to jump again.
It was a metaphor for her life as she makes a difference in this world in ways I can barely comprehend.
One small leap and – ouch – it’s summer
I knew in the millisecond of that little leap that this wasn’t going to go well and heard the confirming crunch as I came down on my right ankle.