I took a run over to the North Shore where our old cabin stands, skeleton-ized but still in a jaggedy upright position. Not so the outhouse- so tippy you’d have to stand on your head to pee! Lots of memories. The petals & glorious scent of the Braithwaite Rose that Ivan Ray once gave me…

I have been re-reading some of my favourite non-fiction books this past while. I love the stories told by those who were there, who personally experienced the happenings. The ones that others in later years gloss over, too often re-telling those same tales, tainted by their own predudices, experiences and misinformation. Local history books are…

Well, my arm still hurts a bit but feels better than it did last night. I have none of the other possible side effects mentioned by the nurses who arrived at Silver Birch Lodge yesterday morning to provide us “oldies” with our second shot of the coronavirus 19 vaccine. We are good to go. But…

(RECYCLED FROM ABOUT 20 YEARS AGO) ODE TO FRASER LAKE How do I love thee, O small town edged against the Northern BC wilderness and bisected by grey pavement that stretches east and westward like well-chewed gum? Let me count thy ways: THE LAKE: Its azure and indigo waters sparkle and splash whenever the wind…

As I embark upon The closing segment Of life here on Earth (Seventy-two years since birth) My long awaited journey to The birthplace of my Faith Approaches But My concience reproaches Husband’s recovered From health issues But if I really loved him I’d stay home. Although there’s money in the bank And gas in the…

At 2 pm on April 8th, 1982,Thirty-nine years agoI snuffed outMy loveThe one whom I had createdI now crematedNever to be found again At her gravesideI paid homage toher gentle curves,Her enticing scentwhich I’d thought Was worth the money I’d spent I had swaddled andcradled herevery waking momentSince I was sixteenA vulnerable teen Now my…

Every once in awhileI’ll have fish for breakfastand eggs for supper.I’ll give into an urgeto buck the system;the everyday ritualsimposed by the past.I’ll set out my cutlerywith forks on the rightand knives on the left.I’ll make square pizzasand round meatloafs.I’ll have tea in the morningand coffee at night.And sometimes;once in a very long time,I’ll have…

The trees are alive with tiny bodiesBobbing, flickering, flutteringPecking at dead leavesStill hanging in thereDozens more peck franticallyAmongst the moundsOf last year’s cropRotting on the ground There’s a woodpeckerLured by a free meal.Suet encased in wireHanging in the treeHe too breakfastsFrantically Why the hurry?It’s snowing.They wanna get homeBefore lunch.

Old woman sits onHer breakfast stoolContemplatingLifeShe’s outlivedTwo husbandsWho gifted herWith children.Beautiful childrenShe has photographsOf grandchildrenAnd great-grandchildrenEncased in albums. So many albums.Memories ofLove, friendship,Fun in the sun,Fun in winterAnimal encountersScenery.Life has beenGood. Now she has fallenIn love againLife is wonderful.Soon there will be More photographs In a brand new Photograph album

My feet moveAll on their ownNo brain to guide themJust me alongside themLeft foot, right footFaster now,There they goWhere to, I don’t know.Like automatons, robots,In sync, no stumblingAs they doWhen I am in control.I press the red buttonMy feet stop.Reluctantly theyFollow the rest of meOff the treadmill.