The Pits and Pieces

  It seems shocking to me that the oldest Millennials will soon start to define themselves as ‘middle-aged’. Those born in 1981 are now 41 years old! I still think of myself as ‘older middle-aged’ but of course I’m not. Who am I kidding? Maybe I’m turning into a crabby old woman. Or perhaps I’m already there: ·      I get increasingly annoyed by motorcycle and sporty-car drivers who zoom down residential streets, revving their engines. What is wrong with these people? What point are they trying to make? Some might say ‘only a bit of harmless fun’, showing off their toys after a couple of years of restraint. But is it too much to ask people to muffle their loud vehicles and noises? Canadians, remember? ·      Similarly – those who mow their lawns at 7 pm on a weekend night. And don’t get me started on those loud, gas-powered leaf blowers. Does one really need all that power and energy to blow a few blades of grass from the sidewalk onto the lawn? Surely, a broom will do. ·      Pe

  Words, stories, books that transport us to unfamiliar worlds. All these you can find in abundance at your local library. The librarians at my own local library are always friendly and helpful, either in person or over the phone. One day during partial lockdowns, when we were picking up our books in the library vestibule at slotted times, I arrived about twenty minutes early. Standing there, patiently waiting for my appointed time, I watched as the librarian came out with packages of books in brown paper bags to set out on the table for pick up. “Are yours in here?” she asked. “I can check.” “Oh, it’s okay. I’m actually a bit early for my time slot.” No worries. She took my name, went inside and returned with my book pick-up. How’s that for service? Another time, while picking up a book, I mentioned to the librarian that I’d just then received an email that another hold was available for pick-up. Again, not a problem. She found it and added it to my pile. I cannot say en

  Over lunch with my writing group the other day, there was much animated conversation over ‘Summer Reading’ and what did that mean exactly? Broadly speaking, I suppose it means light reading. It is perhaps reading that doesn’t require your full, deep attention or concentration while you sit poolside, on a beach, deck, or balcony, a fruity alcoholic beverage by your side. It’s books without intricate plots or dark, sombre ruminations. One woman in my group objected to the term ‘summer reading’ as a tad insulting to both book and reader. “Does that mean I can’t read Rushdie in the summer?” Now Rushdie is not an easy read, no matter what season it is. Her objection though was based on the implication that summer reading somehow wasn’t ‘worthwhile’ reading. Another one of us chimed in with, “What’s wrong with lighter reading, strictly for pleasure and enjoyment?” But, of course, ALL reading is for enjoyment, isn’t it? Much discussion ensued about book covers and whether books intend

  Canada Day 2022. It’s hard to know how to celebrate this day. Last year we were shocked and saddened by the discovery of children’s graves at residential schools. For an immigrant like myself, the biggest emotion we feel as a Canadian is the pride of belonging, as I wrote in this previous post – Where is Home? When you come from a place that never accepted you as one of its own, to a country that receives you and bestows citizenship, rights and freedoms, it forever earns a special place in your heart. So on Canada Day you are filled with pride and love to be able to call this country yours. But then there is also the knowledge of how this country was built, the shameful legacy of stolen lands and stolen children, the trauma still being carried today and that will be borne by future generations. How does one celebrate Canada Day? It’s hard to know. Perhaps with just one small understanding of a fellow Canadian? Perhaps with unlearning long-held stereotypes? They say it’s never