Well, I for one sure couldn’t! Mind you, I was only 13, it was 1958, so whaddya want, right? Well. At the community group ‘youth’ dances which I started attending, hoping to meet a [Good grief! What was my rush?!] boyfriend, dancing was a necessity… unless you wanted to spend a couple of hours holding up the wall.
Poignant
Spots
It’s winter. It’s a time of snow, it’s a time of sleet. It’s a time of ice, it’s a time of… sickness!
Goodbye to an Embarrassment of Riches
English newspapers! A whole big bunch! If only we had fully appreciated them at the time.
Apartment 34
1952. It’s the second day at my new school. We just moved, and I am no longer at Royal Vale School in the Snowdon area of Montreal; I am now going to Willingdon, in leafy Notre-Dame-de Grace.
Mary and Ida in Montreal – a Snapshot
Almost 78 years ago, these two ladies spent a fun day out on the town. My town: Montreal.
The Day I Beat the Machine
A Winter Montreal Story (1969)
It was 47 years ago. Almost made me lose my faith in humankind. (Mind you, I’m sensitive, so it doesn’t take much!)
An R-Rated Fairy Tale (rated R for violent images)
A sly paean to the less-than-perfect human condition.
Patti and the Crocodile Contest
My 100th post and beyond…
My last post was my 100th, since the end of June ’15 when I started this blog. Not too shabby, I think – considering I had all but stopped writing, in favour of the drudge (easier?) work of proofing and editing the words of others. But somehow I got the bug to give it a go again.
Remember the smell of wet wool mittens?
I had forgotten it – until I looked out the window a minute ago. What did I see?
Crossed Eyes and Dotted Tees 