storytelling

the only one

Tucked away in the corner of a little Italian place that, after the sun went down, was dim like a mine shaft and just as cold, we sat discussing the living we’ve done over the last 30 years. The two of us, middle-aged women now —whose bodies have performed a miracle or two since we… Continue reading the only one

Grief

thanksgiving

It’s overcast at the cottage this morning. It was a spur of the moment decision to come up here late yesterday. One minute we were sitting on the bed folding laundry talking about this year’s brilliant fall colours. Twenty minutes later we were on the road. The last thing I threw in my bag on… Continue reading thanksgiving

Grief

lessons from a gravedigger

I stood at the upstairs bedroom window for a few minutes this morning, watching as a man chipped away at the cold, hard ground, squaring up the sides of a new grave in the cemetery that butts up against our backyard fence. People sometimes tell me they think it would be weird to live in… Continue reading lessons from a gravedigger