Mary’s Story
She had a good run until she turned eighty. Then, her dog died, followed shortly by the passing of her husband. Still in
She had a good run until she turned eighty. Then, her dog died, followed shortly by the passing of her husband. Still in
The eruption rivals that of a volcano. Our verbal explosion of euphoric joy shoots out of us like pyroclastic flow. We are
My cat gives me a celebratory headbump. Purring loudly, he licks my ear and half sniffs, half nibbles my lobe. Somehow, he knows
It’s a Grizzly Bear, and it’s in our house. The massive beast is trying to crawl into our bed. The hairy intruder with
Shane Pointe has all seventeen hundred of us laughing, holding hands and swaying to his indigenous welcome song. He teaches us the word
Vancouver isn’t a perfect city. You’ll know this if you’ve read some of my other blogs. (See Stinky Town and the Blessing of
It was the joy that jumped out to me the most. These two kids seemed thrilled at the prospect of being together forever. They had
My 12-year-old daughter and I jumped on our bikes, and in about an hour, we captured 36 murals. There are piles and piles of
I have bruised ribs; one of them might even be cracked. It hurts to breathe. One knee aches, the other isn’t working as it
His wild eyes were surrounded by a blustery crop of long wavy hair pointing in all directions and a shaggy grey beard that drooped