My Icelandic blood loves the idea of Jolabokaflod, the tradition of giving and unwrapping books on Christmas eve and settling in with the family...
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November 1969, Ponteix Union Hospital, delivery room. My legs are in stirrups, my husband Terry is in the waiting room (or maybe the pub),...
I am sitting in the Local History Room of the Saskatoon Public Library, browsing through issues of Herstory: The Canadian Women’s Calendar. It is one way...
My recent post, Grief as a Companion, brought about such meaningful and moving responses. My friend Debra, took pen to paper and shared this...
Over the past 18 months, most of us have been touched by loss, ranging from deaths and illnesses of loved ones, to loss of...
I want this post-pandemic opening to be grand, yes, a grand opening. As I write the word ‘grand’, I can hear my mother saying ‘isn’t...
Skimming through one of my workshop manuals from years ago, I come across this passage: I recently spent some time at a northern lake...
It is one of those mornings. When I woke up, my whole face felt tight, especially my jaw. There was such a flurry of thoughts going...
Looking back at my favourite photos, it is clear that I appreciate images of nature and of people I love. Just sitting with these images...
I pick up the phone after one long and two short rings. It’s a bone chilling, snowy day on the prairie. It’s our always smiling, round...
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