If you lived in Manitoba, you could at least call today Terry Fox Day. But then you would live in Manitoba.
Category Archives: Canada
If I’m only painting for me, I’m not painting at all.
Your spouse may ask if you really need all these books and couldn’t you get rid of some? The only permissible answer to such an insult is “I don’t understand the question and I won’t respond to it.”
From the old dresses to the guitar for someone’s kid’s lessons, I was thrilled that my trash could be someone else’s treasure.
Life there doesn’t confuse me, but it’s no longer what I’m accustomed to. I’ve become a real city slicker.
Vowel merges have led multiple people to mistake my tale about seeing the ferry with spotting a fairy or my ponderings about Frodo and Merry as Frodo and Mary.
No parades or football games or absurd shopping sales muddle the meaning.
I’d time the queue so that the lyric “can’t figure out / how I’m gonna get through the next 10 minutes” played as we arrived at the pitch.
We could’ve seen the excessive nail-marks in the wall as holes, but we chose to see them as opportunities—convenient holders for tiki umbrellas during our tropical-themed party.
It seemed like half our kitchen had been taken up by the banana tree, bringing a bit of the tropics into snowy Wisconsin.