Just one old boy’s story

It’s not one of the nobler stories from the Second World War, but it’s a very human one. For that reason alone, it deserves telling. Sometimes we forget that the good old boys we’re all so grateful to, were once just that – boys. Newly enlisted, not long from under …

Some typos speak trooth

Misspelled words. Poor grammar. Hilarious typos. When we find them, we smile. In contrast to cold, brilliant technology, they remind us we’re human. In a national magazine, I recently read a sentence that startled me. At first I couldn’t understand why. When I read it aloud, it sounded correct. Scanning …

Grateful for company on the climb

  Viewed from a distance through a car window, the hills that border Saskatchewan’s Qu’Appelle valley appear soft and gradual. They lie. For years I said I’d like to climb one of those infant mountains; sure I could reach the top in minutes. While attending a conference in the valley …

It’s what’s inside that counts

Great-uncle Willy carried magic in his pocket. The cotton-haired senior didn’t visit often, but each time he did, he tricked us. My sister and I adored him for that, and still remember his generous spirit. My memory of Sunday afternoons with Uncle Willy linger, though decades have vanished between the …

On a midsummer morning…

I married my love on a midsummer morning when the sun was high. My mother cried, my father snapped hundreds of photos without film in his camera and the old folks came. We were healthy and young, we were foolish and wise, and it rained in the afternoon. Before we …