Tango in the Kitchen

by Mary Ann Pocock (1957-2006) just as there is pain with loss so we find it in the search for the very celebrations that come by chance from our grieving 'til one is inextricably linked to the other and we cannot tell where the dying begins and the living ends so the very things which... Continue Reading →

Turning 65

Sometimes I just sit on a park bench to read instead of reading in my living room. I watch squirrels, listen to birds and the breeze in the leaves, listen to people walking and talking, see dogs of all shapes and sizes. It’s solitude within the context of community. The geese have moved up the... Continue Reading →

Remember – A Poem

I go to cemeteries a lotIt doesn’t matter where It’s not about the who(or mostly not) It’s quietIt’s reverent Squirrels aboundDogs exercise People walk and talk I mostly come to listenTo the birdsTo the breezeTo the voices of ancestorsTheir inscriptions, storiesTheir bones, a witnessTheir songs, a whisperTheir presence a comfort Places set apart to remember  So... Continue Reading →

Being Met at the Well

Drop the bucket into the well of grief again?Is the water table lower than the last time?The bucket has to go deeper to find the water it seems. Each grief attack seems to require more effort. Yet now there is more time between trips to the well perhaps the water filling my bucket contains more... Continue Reading →

Running with Scissors to Bolivia

Today I was rereading and putting away the Christmas cards that I received this season. My mind immediately turns to childhood, scissors and paper cutting which I loved to do. Growing up in a Christian ‘mission-minded’ household we were encouraged to never waste anything. This included harvesting the prettiest pictures from our old Christmas cards... Continue Reading →

Why Gimli?

The reason my maternal grandparents built their cottage in 1938 in South Beach, Gimli, Manitoba was because my grandmother Winifred's older brother Percy Harris built there first. So why did her brother build a cottage in Gimli sometime before 1912? Lake Winnipeg, the world's eleventh largest freshwater lake, was a short trip away from the... Continue Reading →

Evans Store

Evans Store on Hansson Ave, at the corner of Anna, was a fixture to every kid in South Beach, Gimli. Forever. Evans Store Building in 2017. Put out to pasture behind 15 Hansson Avenue, Gimli. My first memory of spending money was at Evans Store. My grandpa Percy would give me a nickel or dime and... Continue Reading →

Ode to Saskatoons

I only had to look up. They were there all along. The ripe and ripening fruit. Yummy morsels. Dark purple. I go out and harvest my breakfast from my own bushes, nay trees now. When did the fruit grow out of reach? How can I harvest? The tree, if carefully handled, will bend. Gracefully bowing... Continue Reading →

1 Year of Stitches – DONE

One year ago my friend Lou Anne Sybenga and I started a project called #1yearofstitches or #onestitchaday. This challenge was begun by Hannah Claire Somerville. When I saw this project on Instagram it took my fancy. I had just finished a year long one-a-day project which required me to go outside everyday and make ephemeral art.... Continue Reading →

Gimli Yacht Club 50th Anniversary

I wrote this in celebration of the 50th Anniversary of Gimli Yacht Club, July 1, 2017 (tune: This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land) This Club is your boat, this Club is my boat From speedy cruisers to anything that will float From the harbour mouth To this great lake’s waters. This... Continue Reading →

Thoughts on Grief

A year ago I drew this labyrinth in the sand on my favourite beach. Dragging my fingers in the barely-warm April sand felt wonderful after having spent three days in a nursing home. My mother was struggling so overwhelmingly. The only thing I really knew how to do was play the piano for her and sing the... Continue Reading →

Turner 8

Turner 8 - 1471. That's the way we used to say it over 50 years ago. It's a telephone number. "Turner" was the exchange; a telephone number from Winnipeg. "Turner" was the exchange for the suburb of St. James. All my friends had 888 as the first part of their phone number. Everyone knew which part... Continue Reading →

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