tents-at-night

Welcome to Camps Delta, Marriott, Hilton, and Sheraton

Forget about camping at Nova Scotia’s Kejimkujik National Park, Ontario’s Sharbot Lake Provincial Park, Alberta’s Peter Lougheed Provincial Park or any campground for that matter. I much prefer campgrounds with inviting names like Delta, Marriott, Hilton, Sheraton and Westin, but it was not always so. As college students in the seventies, my friends and I could not possibly afford those establishments. Our meagre budgets would only permit a borrowed, canvas tent that reeked of mildew and a car known as “Tin Lizzie,” but…

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I’m So Embarrassed — Again

Do you remember an old Zellers’ Christmas commercial in which the lady of the house had completed all her preparations for a traditional dinner and was ready to welcome her guests? Ding! Dong! The doorbell rang and the hostess went to the door dressed in her Christmas finery, with one small oversight. She had forgotten to put on her skirt. Oh, the embarrassment! Now, I cannot report a comparable experience, but I have had my share of wardrobe faux pas. Let’s take…

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Melda Called the Doctor and the Doctor Said…

We ♥love ♥love love♥ our family doctor, Dr. Don Thompson. He came into our lives when we were struggling with our previous doctor following an atrocious labour and delivery. Just imagine, in 1982, there were doctors galore and switching doctors was as simple as making a phone call. Glenn’s sister, Evelyn Cavanagh, worked in the lab at the Peterborough Clinic when it was at 327 Charlotte Street and we consulted her for advice about which doctors were accepting patients. Evelyn told us about a…

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cat-peeking-out-of-bag

The Cat is Out of the Bag

It was never a secret, but now the cat is definitely out of the bag or the genie is out of the bottle, if you like. It is official: Glenn and I are selling our Trent Lakes home and moving to our Nova Scotia home. We have talked about this ad nauseum for the past ten years, but it always seemed beyond our reach.  At 60 and 61, not at all old by today’s standards, we feel we have reached the…

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cleaning woman with mop

DARN! I WISH I HAD INVENTED THE SWIFFER SWEEPER!

It was 1999. We were living and working at McConnell Funeral Home in Marmora, Ontario. I happened to be shopping at the Belleville Walmart when this energetic gaggle of young people danced toward me; more like accosted me. They were dressed the same, promoting a brand-new invention with youthful enthusiasm. And what was it? The Swiffer Sweeper.

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A MAN, A PIGLET and SOME RUSH HOUR FUN

It wasn’t anything like rush hour in Halifax or Toronto. It wasn’t anything like rush hour in Peterborough or Truro. It was Lockeport’s version of the noon rush hour. Because Lockeport is an island, cars enter and exit the town by a single causeway. The majority of residents worked at the National Sea Products Fish Plant. At lunch time, many of them hurried home to West Head, Green Harbour, Brighton, Lydgate, and Allendale for lunch. Rush hour had no place in Dad’s world. Nope,…

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Happy Birthday to My Little Brudder and Partner in Crime

Partners in crime of the worst ilk, that’s what my little brother Francis and I were. We were the youngest children in a family of four. Each of us inherited the super genes for “bad ideas” and “how to drive your parents crazy in 60 seconds or less.” Miraculously, we were not banished to “Reform School.” Just exactly what did we do? I have forgotten most of it, but here are a few of our adventures. Francis used to hide and throw rocks…

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Fat Cat on Small Couch

From Couch Potato to 10,000 Steps in 3 Days

It is no secret that I suffer from major depressive disorder which is controlled fairly well with medication. Depression zaps most of my energy. Doing anything physical is a chore. Many of the medications I take slow metabolism and ramp up my appetite. The combination of age, sedentary life style, low energy, slow metabolism and insatiable appetite, leads directly to unwanted weight gain. It works out to 10 pounds a year. I admit I am a first class couch potato. If it were…

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cat wearing round glasses

Another Pair of New Glasses — An Agonizing Experience with a Serving of Anxiety

Blind as a bat, that’s me.  In Grade 5, I told my mother I needed glasses and she promptly refused to believe me. (Had I lied to her before????) Not a single teacher noticed I squinted all the time and I wrote with my nose an inch from my page. In fact, one teacher grabbed a clump of hair on the crown of my head and yanked my head up while remarking, “You’re not that blind.” But she was wrong…

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moldy-lemon

M is for Mould, Mush, Mildew, Maggots…

CPAP machine? Yep. Prescriptions? Yep. Sunglasses? Yep. Phone chargers? Yep. Rubber boots? Yep. Winter coat? Yep. Got everything? Yep. Glenn turned off as many breakers as possible in the electrical panel to save 10 cents worth of hydro. He did not turn off breakers for the TV/PVR, the fridge and the air conditioner and believed everything was hunky dory. And with that, we jumped in our loaded down RAV4 and struck out for our house in West Head (Lockeport), Nova Scotia for…

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