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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,…
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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
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A Reasonable Expectation of Undisturbed Rest
[pullquote]I am awake, but ’tis not time to rise, neither have I slept enough…I am awake, yet not in paine, anguish or feare, as thousands are. ~ 17th Century religious meditation for the dead of night[/pullquote] With winter darkness falling at 5:00pm, I’m lucky to remain vertically upright until nine. After a hard day’s labour,…
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Present Imperfect
Just after midnight I get out of bed, double-check the calendar, and put the bag on the dining room table. At 5:45am, I search for light and hope I’m not late. My slippers flip-flop on the path in the pitch black. I ring the doorbell, a vision in robe and FrankenHair. Happy birthday to you,…
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The Hartsdale Pet Cemetery
When I was a kid, my brother and I were allowed to choose kittens from the litter of a stray cat. My mother wanted only one cat for the longterm, so she told us that at some future time one of the two would be given away. When that time came, my brother’s cat, Percy,…
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I Have Shingles
“You must be so excited to get it done?” most people ask, a reasonable question after two years of exposed insulation, peeling windows, and flapping Typar. But I scramble for an answer. “What I love most is the adventure,” I tell them, which isn’t enough. There is no possible pat answer for a project…
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Inscription
Pierre explained that it was customary for guests to write their names on pieces of wood to mark their stash of bottles in Marco and Rod’s cave. So I’ve heard, I nodded. (A charming idea to ascribe such permanence to something so ephemeral.) But we cycled through so much wine that summer that it never…
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Just Peachy
Two seasons ago I added a peach tree to the mix, siting it in the sunniest, most-protected corner of the property. The nurseryman, who successfully grew one in his own yard, said that it was self-pollinating and would take two years to produce fruit. I wish I could tell you the cultivar of the Prunus…
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Mnemonic: A Book of Trees – Post 5 of 5
See other posts in the series: P1 P2 P3 P4 ***** A satisfying read is dependent upon two critical components: what is read and when. Up the book comes, then down the book goes if the timing isn’t right. Released in 2011, it’s taken two years for Theresa Kishkan’s memoir, Mnemonic: A Book of Trees, to find its way to…
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“Mnemonic: A Book of Trees” by Theresa Kishkan – Post 4 (of 5)
My husband had a nomadic childhood too and when we met, we decided we wanted to create a home for our children which would be constant. And it was. It is.