The ward’s halls are paved with anxiety, painted with sighs and patched over with prayer. COVID and other nasty body snatchers hover. But she stands at the nursing station, pen in hand, checking charts. She’s young. Calm. Pretty. And pretty weary. Three more hours till she can leave. Her littles …
My family and I have thoroughly enjoyed the Chosen, the world’s first ever multi-season television show about the life of Christ. If you haven’t caught it, look for it on the app or YouTube. You won’t be sorry. But six years before Chosen, locals, including me, crowded into Yorkton’s Anne …
Glenda and I have been best friends almost 30 years. I don’t need to explain the close friendships of women to the ladies reading this. How you can laugh together so loud and long that your eyes get all squinty and your nose and eyes and makeup run and you’re …
A few more months, the Preacher and I hope, and we’ll have completed our move. Meanwhile, it feels strange, living in two houses. No matter which house I’m in, I feel at home. The two places feel connected, albeit with a long, paved hall. Sometimes, when I’m standing in one …
The surgeon waved my comments aside. “Your eyes are perfect. You could legally fly a plane.” “No, sir,” I responded. “I couldn’t.” I had tried to explain, during that post-op appointment following my cataract surgeries (both peepers, two weeks apart), that I was NOT happy with my new eyes. I’d …
We’re twenty percent moved, and one hundred percent befuddled. Despite knowing we must continue with our great downsizing, reducing the contents of a two-storey home to what best fits a one-storey (about half the size) has all the appeal of major surgery without anaesthetic. Our stow-n-go van and my car …
Christmas carries on at our home, as we consider the gift of still-fresh memories of the past year and the promises of the next. “Hon, if you had to wrap 2019 up in a few words or a sentence, how would you do that?” I asked on Christmas Day. …
An unexpected wave of nostalgia hits as I scrape the early frost off the windshield of my burgundy Impala. The fifteen-year old car will no longer be mine tomorrow. One or two signatures, a pat on the hood, a last drive up the road and it will officially belong to …
At a medical facility, one of my relatives was asked to say as many F words as possible in as short a time as possible. Startled by official sanction to release the four-letter word that may have previously more often crossed his mind than his lips, he started in. I …
Backpack-wearing students once again stroll the streets to their bus stops or classrooms. School buses roll the highways. Once more I walk alongside golden fields and amongst trees blushing red and gold; friend, grandchild or dog keeping pace. I love nearly everything about September. Always have. It tickles the senses. …
