It will be hard to write this without a few tears. Writing my blogs and articles has sustained me throughout my widowhood. When Andrew Faiz asked if I would consider writing a weekly blog (so many years back), I felt that perhaps it would fill in some of the empty spaces in my life…and it did.
When we lived in Germany from 1955-1958 with the RCAF, life was not easy, especially the first 18 months. The town had been bombed to bits by the Canadians and here we were 10 years later trying to ‘keep the peace’ and were living in as wretched conditions as were many of the Germans.
Buying a travel agency was the smartest move we ever made. For the next several decades we travelled to over 26 places on this beautiful earth.
A while back I gave my daughter my old broom for her outside deck. I think I had had the thing for two decades.
No, if you are looking for a fist fight you’d best check your TV channels…I was surprised the other day to find there actually is a channel devoted entirely to fighting (boxing, etc.). This is rather, the big fight with cancer.
From 1955 to 1958 the RCAF stationed us in Germany. It was a country in recovery with many buildings still bombed out.
As a youngster attending school for the first time, I was probably taken by one of my older sisters. I was the oldest of the ‘last litter’.
I don’t want to start an international discussion, for these are my private thoughts. But I like Americans.
I got my glasses changed recently. It took a big bite out of my bank account but eyesight is so important.
My title is the title of a long ago comedy series that kept us in stitches. The problem is that my best friend is now living in a place called Emerald Gardens, and every time I’m asked where she lives, the name ‘Green Acres” surfaces…such is the mystery of the mind and the association of words.
Today’s Alberta sky offers us a Chinook Arch. Now that has real promise in it. Maybe, just maybe, that grey sky will clear and the blue bit we see under the arch will soon fill the whole sky.
Now there is a line that strikes terror into the hearts of seniors…we are constantly being advised to get our affairs in order “before it is too late”…
The leaves on the trees which line our lane have left. The wind has whipped them off and they lay like a golden shroud on the frost-tipped grass.
A number of years ago I wrote an article about a chance meeting in Emergency. I had not been well and was on a stretcher waiting to see a doctor. A tall, dark-haired nurse came in and smiled at me. We chatted for a while and then she said “You’re a Christian, aren’t you?”
I was enjoying a coffee with a friend in one of those small, intimate little shops that charge an arm and a leg, for a cup of coffee. It was her treat, so I didn’t say much.
A few minutes ago there was a terrible flash of light and a loud clap of thunder and the house darkened. No TV, no car (can’t get the garage door open), no phone (land line) and no lights.
Now there is a title that will touch the heart of any reader and I hope my story will touch your heart or give you a good laugh as it did me.
When you lose a loved one, someone saying to you, “Well you had him as a husband for over 50 years” does not remove the pain or heartache and seems less than compassionate.
Amazing how that one little word “roots” contains implications of so much. I have done a bit of “root digging” and found out some interesting things.
Outside the club house at our condo is a large sheet of asphalt. It is a great parking space for those picking up their mail there. Beyond the road is a row of poplars…golden and glorious as always this fall. Some leaves have already been shed and the asphalt is sprinkled with them.