There was a time when a neighbourhood school was more than a place you simply went for classes and drudgery, when it was more than a place of fear. My own boyhood experience was that we kids would go to school after hours and on weekends to – imagine – play, say, baseball on a […]
Hey, let’s lock the fun out of school! Read More »
I’ve always liked older women. When I was in Grade 2, Queen Elizabeth was … well … quite something, up there on the classroom wall at Maple Crest School, looking down at me with that hot outfit and crown and all. Those were fine days. The only woman who could compete with the young queen was
Men, this International Women’s Day, WAKE UP! Read More »
So over the weekend Hannah and I did a little dance because Hannah wanted to dance in her new birthday bathrobe, this during an intermission of The Sound of Music, the first time all five of us sat down to watch it together. Maybe Hannah danced too because we’re still basking in the glow, that
The hills are alive with the sound of mystery Read More »
It was all set, I was told. Chris had invited me over for the night. Which was fine, because Chris was a cool dude, a buddy with a sort of bowl-cut who lived just down the hill, and, after that, just up the hill. We loved to play hockey together, so much that once I
How chummy sleepovers can go awry Read More »
It’s the height of summer but we’re at the rink anyway. It’s our last skate of the season. Liz is flying across the ice with her golden hair streaming behind. Hannah (her black Ugandan locks jammed under a black hockey helmet) is also going round and round, as is Jon, smile from ear to ear, telling
Are you enjoying life? Or just skating in circles? Read More »
‘This is how you do it, she said, and she put some water in the sink and got some soap and took it all in her hands and showed me how to wash my shirt in the sink. The shirt was short-sleeved and striped blue and white, horizontally, and the sink was in the attic
Cousins and gifts and a different sort of beauty Read More »
One day, maybe, science will measure just what exactly happens to the deepest part of our beings when we go home — what happens not just to our emotions, but what happens physiologically in our organs, in our cells, in our very molecular makeup when we go to the place where we belong. I don’t mean
Liz has a pile of CDs in her lap and she’s rotating the songs, all our favourites, and we’re driving and Fleetwood Mac’s old classic ‘Don’t Stop Thinking about Tomorrow’ comes on and it’s good, it’s all so very good. It’s the sort of song that can say a lot at a wedding. In fact, not long after
Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow. No, really. (With music by Fleetwood Mac) Read More »
