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Where is the line / What lies on the other side

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The raised bed / Autumn season / Rooted with hope Where is the line?  Putting the garden to bed for the winter season means making choices. Some are easy. Toss the colourful annuals that have not even slim hope of surviving a Zone 3 winter. Pull out the tomato plants that have done their job, given us jars and jars of beautifully red fruit for our winter enjoyment and put the vegetative waste into bags and bins for compost. Good riddance, in the best sense. But other plants prove more challenging. Two of them, they bloom still. Osteospermums — one white, one yellow. Still perky, colourful, alive. How can I toss them? I know that, ultimately, they must go. But not yet. Not yet. That line is not yet here. Frost has not yet crept into our nights; it will come and when it does, the line will be obvious. No guessing, no wondering required. The blooms will droop and it will be easy to toss the plants, clean the pots, store them away til spring. Frost is the line. But, several years ago, ...
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When worlds collapse: A week of clashes and concerns

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Young chimpanzees from Jane Goodall Sanctuary of Tchimpounga (Congo Brazzaville). Picture taken  by Delphine Bruyere on Dec ember 9, 2006 * * *  On Friday, I was at the first stop on my round of errands when I realized I had left home without my wallet. Not a big deal, as I carry my debit card separately, but my wallet holds my driver’s licence and other ID. Oh well, I thought. I do have a licence so if I’m stopped, I’ll just explain my situation to the police officer. And then I thought. Hmmm, I wonder if the officer will understand and give me leniency. I wondered this, because earlier that morning I had read American historian Heather Cox Richardson ’s column written the day before, on October 2nd. HCR detailed the raid on an apartment building in Chicago early Tuesday by federal agents who arrived by helicopter and in large vehicles; were dressed in military fatigues; and who used flashbang grenades. The short story is that people were marched outside, some naked, their ha...
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One story four ways: from 900 words down to just 100

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The writing challenge was  to write the same story four times, with increasingly fewer words.  Read the original post that explains the background here .  My four stories are below: -- Read from the top down to 'reduce' the story with each reading  Read from  the bottom up  to 'grow' the story with each reading Note that each version has a different title that signals the content 900 words A TELLING TALE: Spidey senses, ducks, and big changes —————————————————————————————— —— Once upon a time there was a woman who thought she just needed to try harder and do more in order to succeed in the workplace where she had landed eleven years earlier. It had been a good run, but she was growing bored and she wanted more. More seniority, more responsibility, more respect. More money would have been nice, but money was not the driver. By this point, she had an office with a door though no window. She liked the door for what it gave her — a closed and quiet space in wh...
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One story four ways: An exercise in reduction

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If September feels like its own New Year, then, for me, October feels like my own "new lease on life" anniversary. Because t wenty-one years ago on October 1, I was let go from the corporate world and, unplanned by me, was pushed down a path that opened a whole new world to me — the world of graduate studies, freelance work and, eventually, teaching.  Being ushered out of the corporate world and into my own brave new world was, in retrospect, a very good thing because I had to learn how to set my own terms and make my own way in the world of earning a living. Which I did.  This summer, my writing group took on the challenge of writing one story four ways: start with a 900-word version, then pare it down to 500 words, then 250 and, finally, just 100 words. I decided to write about  my exit from the corporate world and my subsequent career path.  As I worked my way through the four different story versions, it was interesting to see what I had to take out, could l...
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Connecting the dots: escape, engage, empower

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so many dots in the world today drawn by powerful men hard to make sense of them careening through our world how to connect them… dodge the worst of them… live with the picture they draw… a constant challenge some days many days most days I cannot do not the big picture out of focus dots colliding horrific results shootings bombings killings starvation misery hatred grim I skip across the headlines retreat hold firm my own dots aware  appalled  awake ready holding steady  in my own corner writing  connecting  loving looking for a better tomorrow ... Recently, two films gave me reprieve from the day’s headlines.  The first, Downton Abbey: The grand finale . Grand it is — everyone’s story nicely tied up after a couple of hours spent in the company of those well loved characters and their beautiful settings with immense houses, gorgeous clothes, and always-green lawns. A lovely escape.  The second, a documentary about Lilith Fair , the brainchild of Canad...
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Life-long friendships: Treasure them, for they are rare and wonderful

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“'Tis the set of the sails / And not the gales / That tells the way we go” By any measure, 50 years of friendship is something — something to cherish, to nurture, to celebrate. I am fortunate to have a friendship that has endured over five decades. Jennifer and I met in high school (in Edmonton) where I was the new kid, just moved from England, a bit gawky and awkward with my big glasses, goofy hair, and strong British accent. As I recall it, she opened the conversation, I responded, and we have been friends ever since. Fifty years is a long time, but not as long as 72 years. Last Thursday evening, I was in the company of three women who met in 1953 and who remain friends to this day. They were part of the "coronation girls" — 50 young Canadian women, sponsored by Garfield Weston to attend Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation in London. They came from all across Canada, meeting on the train that picked them up from west to east. Then the transatlantic voyage on the "Empr...
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