Category: Community
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Walking Jane Jacobs’ Hood
This week, a walk around Jane Jacobs’ neighbourhood in Greenwich Village was my unfinished business and a Google maps walking tour my guide. Read more
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Impatience
Dear Guy in the Tan Sedan: What I want to know is this: Was it worth speeding down the main street in our village to catch up to the three cars who were already over the swing bridge? Was it worth ignoring the one-lane bridge protocol of stop-and-wait-then-go-and-wave to shave thirty seconds off your trip? Or… Read more
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The Art & Science of Being a House Guest
There’s a fine line between persistent anxiety and enjoying time with people in their space. You will know how well you’ve tread that line when you’ve loaded up and pulled away. Read more
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The Place We Put Our People
It is the remarkable uniformity – the sameness – that slaps me in the face. Pleasant. Clean. Spacious. Orderly. Middle class. Nice. A place you walk into and believe that your dad, mom or grandpa will be safe and taken care of, that everything will be okay, that you’re doing The Right Thing. These buildings, like clusters… Read more
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When Spring Comes
Stand here on the bridge with me And look down below See how high the river is From all the melting snow I think the river is laughing Like a thousand old ladies Like a thousand silver chimes in the wind ~ Jane Siberry, “When Spring Comes” It’s physically ugly, this… Read more
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The Road Less Travelled in Lanark County: Part 1
It was that time of the day – post-sugar bush, pre-ice cream – when every mother recognizes the limitations of adding any more stops on a roadtrip. The kids, at that point, could go either way. Read more
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Take A Smile (And Pass it On)
I have to be upfront and admit this is not my original idea. But in the spirit of stealing like an artist – and in the interest of doling out a little communal joy – I’ve posted this at our local mailboxes. After such a long, cold winter, we could all use one or two… Read more
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The Drawers of Lola Rosa
I can’t help but stare. The young waiter with curly dark hair and a pencil thin moustache is a dead ringer for my cousin, Paul, a mirror of his youthful days in the ’70’s. It’s uncanny. Turns out he’s from B.C. (we’re getting closer), but not from Kamloops, home of Paul and my extended family.… Read more
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The Lost Villages of the St. Lawrence
The vintage homes and buildings look picturesque and inviting under the winter sky. They’re clustered together, in traditional village style, interlaced with Christmas-like trees frosted with snow. But what I see is not a real village. The clapboard church, barbershop, school and other buildings grouped by the side of County Rd. 2, near Long Sault,… Read more
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Winter Dreaming of a Summer Island
The air was warm with an exotic charm, Not Canada at all And a small northern lake; A land of soft desire. A depth of turquoise fire, A height of foreign stars Only the water glittered In a cool northern way Sparkling against the rocks. – Excerpt from The Island (Experiment in Magic), Katherine Hale Read more