A salesman for one of the big cable conglomerates came to our door. We don’t live in the typical door-to-door type of neighbourhood, so this was unusual. It certainly is unusual, he said – your area finally has in-home high-speed Internet available!
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This is Mike Sloan’s final resting place near Peterborough. It’s one of the perils of pre-planning – Mike died on Monday, very much in 2020. Mike had one persona before the rest of the country got to know him via his cancer fight. He developed another one, a better, more effective and loving one, afterward.
…That title might not be accurate. I don’t really know when I got this particular tattoo – my fourth. But Lisa, you may ask, how can you not know? It turns out there’s a lot I don’t know about it, and perhaps you don’t either.
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My past year-end posts have tended to be about achieving goals and accomplishments. This year, it’s about just being grateful.
…The most wonderful time of the year? I beg to differ. If it was so wonderful, I would be invited to participate in it.
…If you’re old enough, you might recognize today’s title as a song lyric from the 1972 soft rock hit, It Never Rains in Southern California. Albert Hammond wrote and sang it. And if you know the song, it goes on to say: It pours, man, it pours.
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Today, I’m going to tell you the story of what happened to a friend of mine. He was recently in the hospital for a serious heart issue, including a build-up of fluid around his lungs. Let’s call him C.
…So here we are, on a 2/3 acre parcel of land, surrounded by hundreds of acres of farmland. We haven’t heard a siren. When someone drives down our road, it’s an event. We’ve seen deer and I’m sure we’ll see other critters in time. Our nearest neighbour isn’t near at all, so we have this place wired (and wireless) for monitoring and security.
…Truth be told, these acres are brown right now. The feed corn that surrounds us is almost ready for harvest. The soybean fields a little further away came down this week. It was fun to watch the combines come in and get to work.
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Shopping! Am I right? Between ethics and prices and convenience and everything else that goes into it, it’s a complicated experience. Remember when the Sears catalogue would arrive? You’d dog-ear the pages showing what you wanted and that was it. No comparison shopping. No worries about free shipping. Done and done. Santa, please bring me the inflatable Barbie chair.
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From my new writing space, all I see is corn, hay, more corn, trees, and more trees. There is a neighbour a km or so away, but I can’t quite make out their house. This is the road less traveled but there is a streetlight across from our home. It’s a little bit of civilization in a pretty remote area.
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Today, and for the rest of this week, I’m going into reruns, in order to free my mind and soul (and fingers and knees!) for the task ahead of settling into our new/old home. If all goes as planned, as you read this we are watching the unloading of our first shipping container of possessions. So, please indulge me as I share my most-read posts from the last few years.
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Here’s a confession. I love using plastic sandwich bags. You know, the ones with the zip closure? I love them! I use them for everything from food storage to stand-ins for plastic gloves. They’re terribly wasteful so I’ve made a promise to myself (and now to you) that I will stop buying them after we move.
…We were lucky to get this apartment. I held out because I had an instinct that we’d get it, against the odds. It’s owned by a short-term rental company whose various units across the city are almost always booked up.
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Last week, my friend Dan took me as his plus-one to a preview performance of Titanic: The Musical at London’s Grand Theatre. It’s this year’s high school project. I’ve seen many of them – you’d never know you’re watching high school students. The talent is first-rate.
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We’ve watched a lot of baseball lately. And because we’re at the mercy of someone else’s channel selection and we don’t get our faves, it’s Family Feud and baseball, ad nauseum, on TV nights.
…Since quitting my radio job, Rev. Kevin George is one of the people I miss seeing the most. His weekly visit to the CJBK roundtable was a delight. His Twitter handle, @itsjustkevy, says a lot about who he is.
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