Little Red Toolbox

My father, despite rakish good looks and – once he got past his fifties brush cut – a hippyish demeanor, was an old-fashioned man.

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On Writing, Catharsis and Joy

“Two a.m. and I’m still awake, writing a song

If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside me

Threatening the life it belongs to…”

Anna Nalick Breathe (2 AM)

I have always had a deep reverence for poets and song-writers. With an economy of words that never fails to leave me in awe,

Last Kiss

Sometime in my son’s late teens, it occurred to me that I could not remember the last time I had kissed him while he was sleeping. How that troubled me… When had he begun closing his door in an implicit – and slightly defiant – request for privacy? I couldn’t recall.

Swimming Hole, Part Two

I am not a risk-taker. I do not go on roller-coasters and I wouldn’t even consider doing anything as insane as sky-diving or bungee jumping. I do not seek excitement. I play it safe. I try to stay no more than 10 kilometres over the speed limit. I use cruise control, just to be sure. I do my utmost to abide by the rules. I actually read the on-line waivers and disclaimers.

Swimming Hole, Part One

I live in the country. In the hot summer months, while there are not lot of municipal swimming pools, there are countless swimming holes if you have the time and the patience to go exploring a bit. My husband loves the water and he rarely misses an opportunity to go for a swim. Our dog is an active and enthusiastic participant in every venture.

Prince Charming

I dredged this one out of the archives: the years after my divorce were long and sometimes lonely ones but ultimately, I am so grateful for all that those years taught me…

All my life I have searched for you
My Prince Charming…
I see it all play out clearly
In my mind’s eye…

Good Cop, Bad Cop

“Mom, did you go down those stairs?” my sister demands one day, as she notices some object that Mom could only have found in the basement.

“I was very careful!” my mother protests. “I held the railing the whole way down and I took it one step at a time.”

“What if you had taken a fall, Mom? I suppose you did this after the caregiver left?” My sister is upset and exasperated.

Woman in Coffee Shop

She looks to about sixty years of age. She is a big woman. Her hair is short; going-on-white; a stylish but no-nonsense cut. She is wearing black tights and a long, body-hugging sweater that sinks in at the waist and flares out to unapologetically hug her ample hips.

How Are You?

You ask me how I am

And then glance past my shoulder,

Already anxious

To continue your errands.