After too much wine at dinner last February just before Valentine’s Day, Magellan said to Ginger, “I’ll drive your stuff to Saskatoon.” “Dad wasn’t serious was he?” Lynn asked on the walk home. “There’s no way,” I replied. “Driving a big rental truck through the mountains at this time of year would be ludicrous. Plus there […]
Art at its most significant is a distant early warning system… Marshall McLuhan In the Chihuahua Desert the light is intense, the silence severe. The landscape planes, stretches horizontal, on, and on, and on, into a thin horizon line penciled above the empty plains. El Despoblado, The Uninhabited, is the name of the distant hills. Having […]
“I’m stranded here,” my mother said when I called her one evening last week. An eye infection in her good eye has left mom totally blind, in a sea of darkness in her room at Birchview Home. It made me think of Pesuta. She’s been stranded for ninety years, since 1928, the year mom was […]
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Rare words from Magellan. It’s in my double helices to be timid when confronted with a physical challenge—but this time it was him. We’d reached an embayment on the Peekaboo hike in Utah’s Canyonlands National Park. Our guidebook cautioned about it in three bolded words: “very steep […]
In this season, in the silence of night, who among us doesn’t pause, rewinding time back to childhood on Christmas Day? Among those memories, there’s often a grandmother. In my case, Grandma Danchuk. Alice. Born 110 years ago, on Christmas Day in 1908.