Losing it …

As you may have noticed (or maybe not), I am trying desperately to steer clear of writing about U.S. politics. Aside from the fact that it’s stressful and aggravating, there doesn’t seem to be any point to it. It changes nothing.

Hence all my recent trips down memory lane.

Sadly, though, even if I am trying my best to remain silent on the subject, no one else is.

There doesn’t seem to be any escaping “45”, his (insert swear word here) family, his cronies, his partners in crime, his sycophants, his tweets and  Continue reading

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I never knew I had such discipline …

You’ve heard me say time and again that I love reading and I love books. And I love having books stubbornaround. It gives me pleasure just to see them, let alone to hold them and feel their weight in my hand. To smell the ink. To feel the texture of the paper.

The sight of bookcases filled to overflowing is comforting to me. So are tables piled high with them.

I love looking at all the different books I’ve read and I Continue reading

Sometimes I’m a mystery even to myself …

How weird is this? Right in the middle of walking to meet a friend for coffee a book title popped into myShangri-La head. James Hilton’s Lost Horizon.

Out of nowhere. Why? That’s my question to you.

Why?

I first read Lost Horizon back in grade school. Don’t make me tell you how long ago that was. In those days, we were given a required reading list at the very beginning of the school year. And each time we finished a book we had to Continue reading

Back in the saddle again …

Well, not literally. I’m talking about the book I’ve been writing on and, more specifically, off for the lastmoleskin nine years.

When my mother was ailing I was struck with an idea for a book about her and me. I tucked it away in the back of my mind for later. I said nothing to anyone until the day after she died, when my closest friend and I were headed back to Montreal for the funeral.

As the words literally started pouring out of my mouth, my friend handed me some paper and a pen and I spent the rest of the trip writing. This
went on for the next three months. It was amazing, the book was literally writing itself.

Seven chapters in, I hit the wall. No, not writer’s block. I’d been Continue reading

Thanks (again).

Canadian Thanksgiving was this past weekend.  And considering how, for the past two weeks, I’ve been talking about what I’m pumpkin piegrateful for, I figured this was the perfect time to continue that particular conversation.  And then I’ll give it a rest, I promise.  Which you’ll be thankful for, I know.

Right off the top, I’m grateful for my sense of humour.  There’s all kinds of shit going on just about every place you can find on a map — not to mention  the crap we all put up with in our own lives — so being able to find Continue reading

Blown away …

FI haven’t been to a library in years.  Yes, I know.  Shame on me.  I used to go and then I stopped.  Why, libraryexactly, I do not know.  Crazy when you consider how much I love to read; and the cost of books.  Anyway.

A friend of mine is an absolute devotee.  She is always either coming from or going to the library.  And recently she told me that now, at least here in Toronto, you can download books.  Who knew?

Gotta admit, I was impressed.  She told me I just needed Continue reading

It’s actually a bit spooky …

It seems I’ve got supernatural powers.  Well, not across the board.  I do have my limitations.  But I seem to be able to supernatural powersconjure people.  People who magically appear (or re-appear) into my life after long absences.  It’s nothing new, actually.  I’ve done it for years — never intentionally, mind you.  It just happens.

Last month it happened twice, within days of each other.  Which is extraordinary in and of itself, don’t you think?

The first time freaked me out I don’t mind telling you.  I’m still talking to myself.  There’s a gal I’ve known most of my life — by which I mean, we first met when I was about eight or nine years old.  That’s most of your life, right?

She, her three siblings and their parents, lived a block away from where I lived, in Montreal, with Continue reading

Glory Hallelujah!

Yes, I am happy.  Very happy.  Jumping for joy happy.  Nope, I did not win a lottery.  This is better, actually.  Yeah, better than winning a lottery.  I may actually breakthroughhave talked about this before.  Doesn’t matter.  I’m gonna talk about it again.  It’s different this time anyhow.

For at least the last twenty years I’ve wanted to write a book.  Nothing to do with ego, I have just always thought there was one in me.  God knows I tried.  I gave myself headaches trying to come up with topics.  I’d write a few sentences, maybe a paragraph or two, only to end up ripping the sheet of paper off the pad, crumpling it up in a ball and tossing it.  I even took a book writing course, which I really enjoyed.  Not that

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Day 263. Great Escape

Last December, Claire over at Word By Word reviewed “The Bridge Club”, Patricia Sands’ first book. Claire’s a fabulous reviewer and, the more I read, the more I the promise of provencewanted to read it. So, thanks to modern technology, it was downloaded and on my iPad in mere seconds.

It’s a book about a group of women and their friendship. A friendship they began as young women. Over the years the friendship grew stronger and stronger; and they became closer and closer. They were there for each other through thick and thin. Heartbreak and happiness, marriage, divorce and widowhood, sickness and health. The more they went through, the closer they became.

I loved the story because I saw my own friendships in it. I loved it, because the older I get, the more my friendships mean to me. The more I appreciate them. The more I count on them. And depend on them. I also loved it, because it takes place in Toronto, which I didn’t know when I bought it. So as I read, I visualized. I was there, with them. I could see exactly where they were, all the time.

The story was set here because the author, Patricia Sands, and her husband live here. And lo and behold, because she had read an exchange between Claire (Word By Word) and me, she (Patricia) decided to check out my blog. Happily she liked what she read and started following me. And one day, she commented we should meet for coffee. Which we did; and we talked and talked and talked. Like old friends. Like women do.

That’s when she told me she had another book, “The Promise of Provence”, coming out, in the not too distant future. She was at the

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Day 248. Cat Crazy?

Have I got a book for you! But first, how I came to find out about the book. I’ve mentioned several times, how much I enjoy the blog Word by Word. Well the other bookday, Tuesday I think, Claire wrote a review of a book called “Lost Cat: A True Story of Love, Desperation and GPS Technology”.

As I read her post I had the eerie feeling the author of said book, Caroline Paul, had channeled me. This wasn’t a book about her, and her cats, it was a book about me, and mine. True enough, I hadn’t gone through all the same experiences she had. One of her cats disappeared for five weeks. I had one who disappeared for only two hours.

But I was every bit as crazed. I had a search party of neighbours running up and down streets, alleys and parks screaming her name. Friends were called to look under parked cars and patrol all the back gardens on the street.

Sobbing, I called my mother, who came tearing over to my house in her nightgown, bathrobe and slippers. She drove, but still, if she’d been stopped for speeding, that would have been interesting, don’t you think? And, refusing to go to work, I sat on my stoop, wailing, hoping to lure her back with a dish of tuna fish.

Just one of my many cat-related adventures (and misadventures). I could write a book or two or three of my own.

So there were no ifs, ands or buts about it. I had to have “Lost Cat” immediately. I even commented on Claire’s blog about it. Said

Continue reading