Tag: self

  • Pursuing Home

    Where are you from? I never know how to answer the question, “Where are you from?” I’m Canadian. Sometimes (outside Canada) that’s all that is required. But I was born in Scotland to Canadian parents, who are “from” Saint John, New Brunswick. I grew up mostly in Newfoundland, with a brief stint in England, and…

  • Cape Breton Chic

    And this is why I was shopping for boots: Photo credit: E.J. Burtt, potter extraordinaire.

  • But, Why???

    I presume that any of you who have a two-year old, or who have ever had regular contact with a two-year old, are familiar with the question in the title. Why, Mommy? Why you in a rush? Why you have to go to work? Why need money? Why need to pay bills? I was out…

  • Word Wrangling

    I’m having a weird high-tech/low-tech moment. Here I am, curled up in an easy chair in front of a woodstove with a cat in my lap, and writing. But not with a pen and paper; here I am, writing on a laptop that is connected to the rest of the world only through the power…

  • Aging, Wrinkles and True Love

    Although Sundays are not going to become Stan Rogers day, here is another. I’ve been seeing the wrinkles on my face progressing over the last few years, in a way that is becoming less forgiving every year. It used to mean that I was stressed, or dehydrated, but they are becoming my everyday companion. Here…

  • Something Scary Every Day

    I hear that you should do something that scares you every day. I don’t know who says this, but I hear it. This has been a good month for that; I started sending out freelance articles, offered a rewrite when the first one was rejected instead of wallowing in self-doubt, sent off a proposal for…

  • I Love You. Whatever that means.

    I find myself in the car, caught up in deep conversation, and I am hit by a wave of emotion. I look at my partner sitting next to me, and I put my hand on his knee. “I love you.” He grins. Then I say, “Even though I have no idea what that means.” And…

  • Keeping On Keeping On

    I’m not supposed to be here. Well, I’m supposed to be here, at my desk. But I’m supposed to be over there, in my word processor, working on my proposal for a radio documentary on E.F. Schumacher and appropriate technologies. But man. Demoralized. Here I am, reading a book that was published the year I…

  • Today is My 100th Post

    It’s hard not to get all meta with this blogging thing. I had another post written, and scheduled, but it was kind of a throwaway. Filling in the days sort of thing. Then I realized. Wow! 100 posts. Maybe I actually DO this thing, then. As you might suspect from my title, I’m a bit…

  • The Inevitable Path

    I promised an article on Repetitive Stress today, but I’m having technical difficulties. You’ll understand if I manage to resolve them, or I’ll explain if I don’t. Like many of you, I have spent the weeks since Christmas cleaning all the things.(1) This included giving away many of the things. Yesterday, I gave away the…

  • More Time at the Office

    It is a common expression: Nobody on their death bed ever wished that they spent more time at the office. I woke up pondering that one morning last week, after a Christmas break spent deeply immersed in home life, kids, mess, and chickens. I want to tell you a secret. Sometimes, I wish that I…

  • On the Care and Feeding of Trolls

    Warning: Contains obscenities, which is almost completely uncharacteristic for me. Just in case you care. I got a troll on twitter. Just one, and it was mild, and I did not deign to reply. I chose instead to revert to my sister’s IRL approach (which she brilliantly came up with at 14, I might add.)…