One of my dominant memories of English Rose’s primary (elementary) school years is of a constant search for lost items. At that time, she wore a dark-green school uniform, and I spent many minutes before and after my then day job sorting through an almost...
English Rose had a school holiday earlier this month so we spent a long weekend in Ottawa, Canada’s capital city, forty-five minutes by car from where we live. Although we visit Ottawa every few months, it’s usually for medical appointments, brunch with family,...
Earlier this week, English Rose bounced into the house with the kind of teenage excitement usually reserved for a meme, ‘tea’ (gossip between friends), or afternoon at the mall. “Look what Grandma J gave me,” she said, gesturing to the colourful bracelet on her...
As you may have seen on Twitter, Tech Guy and I got a new washing machine last week. Not only did it mark a milestone in my complicated relationship with laundry but, and in a clear indication of advancing middle age, few things in recent years have brought me so much...
In a Facebook group this week, another writer asked: “Why do you write?” While the answer is different for each writer, the question made me think about the constants from when I first started my writing journey—enthusiastic and starry eyed—through to now—still...
I grew up in a Canadian city (profiled in a documentary “Colder Than Mars”) that is either celebrated, or depending on your perspective, reviled for the harshness of its winter weather. Now I live near a place that this week garnered the dubious distinction as the...
