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!
childhood
A white-only Ken? Perish the thought!
I just read about the opening of a local exhibit featuring Mattel’s new Barbies.
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.
Remember the smell of wet wool mittens?
I had forgotten it – until I looked out the window a minute ago. What did I see?
Spelling, back in the day
I was always a pretty good speller. I would see the word once, in my school book or a library book, and somehow it was burned in my memory.
9 cents
It was 1955. Having just turned 10, I’d earned a very special right – my dad said I could help in the store by serving customers.
The Steeple
Gonggg! …Gonggg! …Gonggg!
Bells are ringing out across the rooftops. I have to cover my ears, they’re so loud. And to my six-year-old eyes, the church’s tall steeple looks like it’s trying to touch the sky.
The Good Old Days
Back in the ’80s I went through a songwriting phase. Most are kind of embarrassing to me now, but this one still resonates with me – and just maybe it will with you, too. Here are the lyrics.
Legacy From a Dapper Granddad
And what a handsome man he was!
Summer Fun – 1945-48
Just moseying around in the ol’ family album…
Crossed Eyes and Dotted Tees 