Five Years a Writer

Change is all around us all the time, and, yet, I think many of us ignore it and just keep on doing the same old things to move us through the days. It's habit.  But when a big change occurs, we ignore it at our peril. And if we try to navigate it without  benefit of aid, we experience the change not only as more difficult, in my estimation, but also as less fulfilling and productive. Reaching out for help during a time of change is a smart move, and one that — if we are fortunate to find the right help and support — will take us faster and further through whatever situation we are facing.  My current change is the move from full-time absorbing work to the state of retirement. Whatever that word conjures up for you, for me, even while I am living it, I am wondering what exactly it means for me. I don’t yet know, but I do know that probing conversations with friends willing to act as sounding boards for my exploratory ideas are proving helpful in clarifying my thoughts....

The other day, I witnessed an exchange between two people in a public place that was, at best, a misunderstanding by the one, and, at worst, a deliberate act of sabotage by the other. It was not pretty and it did not end happily for either party. I could not find an opening to intervene, such was the anger on the one side and the fluster on the other, so I completed my business and left.  However, the feelings it churned within me have lingered. I was embarrassed for both people, and not a little distressed at how quickly the situation escalated when, with less emotional anxiety and more personal confidence on both sides, it likely would not have happened in the first place.  This got me thinking about how difficult it can be to communicate with each other these days. So many conversations are no more than volleys back and forth of statements that stake a position without concern for understanding by either party. God forbid that we should stop, take a breath, and ask a q...

Do your cupboards look like this?  Mine don’t. But my mother’s do, after my recent visit when each day’s main task was to do a clear-out of at least one cabinet or closet or corner. By the end of my one-week stay, Mum’s place had been lightened by several bags of pass-along goods and many piles of throw-away items.   Why do we have all this stuff?  That is the question we kept asking each other. So many turtleneck sweaters, when Mum no longer likes wearing that style. So many teabags of exotic flavours, when Mum most often drinks builder's tea . So many mugs, when Mum only ever uses her one perfect favourite one.  I venture to say we are each the same or, at least, I can say that I am.  I have collected two shelves of mugs over the years, some of which are lovely but not perfect for either tea or coffee drinking. Why do I keep them? Same goes for bowls and plates. And clothes, oh my goodness: Since Covid struck and I began to work from home, my sartorial require...

  Val and Amanda: 1993 ~ 2013 ~ 2021 Anniversaries tend to be marked in years, but each anniversary arrives after a steady series of moments that pull us through each set of 365 days. If you’re lucky, as I am in my relationship with Val, then those many moments are ones of happiness and contentment more than anything else.  This year marks our 28th anniversary as a couple, eight of those legally married. According to Google’s calculations, we have shared more than fourteen million moments together — that’s a lot of moments (or minutes), by anyone’s count.  We are not as young as we used to be, but the fundamentals of our connection are not reliant on speed. Our advantage has always been core strength of shared values, deep appreciation of each other’s mind and intellect, and gratitude for the innate generosity we each have towards others — and that we have towards each other, too.  We have talked and laughed our way through the years, along the way raising cats...

Lake Winnipeg August 2021 I have spent the last few days with my body on the shores of Lake Winnipeg but with my mind sailing the biggest oceans of the world. I have travelled far in my imagination and I am the better for it.  Getting ourselves to the cottage is always a bit of an ordeal. Food planning. Clothes for a variety of weather possibilities. Ensuring the cat doesn't go to ground before we can get her into the car. But eventually we're on our way, heading to the little bit of rural wilderness we have come to know and love.  This past weekend, once settled in, I took myself on an ocean voyage with a group of women who were the first-ever all-female crew to participate in the Whitbread Round the World Race . Back in 1989, they performed what many (men) had said was simply impossible: crew together, work together, succeed together. "Women will never manage it," they said. But manage it they did.  I was transported into a new and exciting world of yachts, wild ...

Retirement is like an onion. Sometimes it can make you cry. Bike paths are a bit like that, too. They can bring you to tears before they ever bring you any joy.  Let me explain.  My neighbourhood has new bike paths being built on one of the major east/west avenues. Great news, say the bike riders, whose options for safe riding are being expanded. Bah humbug, say the car drivers, whose lanes and, thus, whose options for speed and parking are being reduced. As the lanes were being constructed, I would drive down that avenue and wonder how on earth we would ever adjust to the disappearance of the left-turn lane and how we would ever put up with the concomitant increase in time to get through a major intersection. In addition, there is now a 4-way stop further into the neighbourhood that, previously, was clear sailing for cars heading west or east. Oh the travails of change on the road!  However, as I have seen the bike lane taking increased shape on the street and I have ...

The pandemic pounds I have gained make me grateful for having been lazy in sorting through my closet. With a bit of extra weight on my frame, I am glad for the extra few inches of waistband my (formerly too large) summer capris are giving me.  I think quite a lot about clothes. Not because I enjoy shopping for them; indeed, the very opposite. I have written before  about how much I loathe clothes shopping: So many options on the racks and so few viable choices for me.   I want comfort and common sense, natural fibres and classic lines. No plunging neck lines, short hem lines or narrow pant legs for me. My body is made for living and moving, so I need my clothes to fit my form. I have no interest in stuffing or cinching myself into a piece of clothing or having it expose more of me than it does cover. Some women might want that; fine. I do not.  But some women have no choice in the matter. Have you followed the brouhaha about the Norwegian beach handball uniform cont...