Ever since I’d taught my next-door neighbour to read – we were both four years old – I was obsessed with the idea of going to school. If my big brother could go, why couldn’t I?
Poignant
Driving Me Crazy
A tale of anxiety run rampant: such was my lot about 40 years ago; luckily, as this fictionalized account implies, it eventually ran its course entirely. (Okay, almost entirely. I still prefer to avoid scarily high bridges.)
The Beginning of the End of the Beginning…
Thoughts on looking too closely in the mirror.
Bubby’s Carpet
In which – yet again – I get close to my “inner child.” I just can’t seem to leave her alone. Maybe she’s not ready to be left. 😉
Billy and Me
Memories of a summer at Plage Laval, near Montreal.
The Making of a Nicotine Addict, 1956
Montreal murals in days of old, advertising cigarettes… they used to be everywhere. This was but one factor contributing to the belief (for me and too many others) that it was perfectly okay to smoke. Here’s what else helped to lead me down the tobacco-strewn path.
Belmont Park
The Scrambler
Kiddieland
Roller Coaster
Belmont Park Entrance
This is a little slice of nostalgia about my first visit to an amusement park. (It was published in our daily newspaper in its special section commemorating the 350th anniversary of the founding of Montreal.)
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Learning to Drive… Again. Thanks, Ma!
This is a modest tribute to my sweet, wise mother, who passed away almost ten years ago. I miss her every day.
The worst teachers I ever had
As I reread my earlier post, “A wry look at busy, busy doctors” (aka “How to be a rotten doctor”), it made me think of a much earlier draft which was called “How to be a rotten teacher” instead.
32A: My First Bra
This is a fond look (well, alternately fond/horrifying) back at an innocent time during the 1950s when I so longed to grow up, to be older. Silly me. Silly impatient me.
Crossed Eyes and Dotted Tees 