A tale of three cafeterias revisited: London, Ontario; Burnaby, British Columbia; Quebec City, 1965-2000 While reading Orwell’s seminal novel 1984 in university, I was struck by the grungy canteen scene, which prompted recollections of the cafeteria of my high school, Oakridge, in 1960s London, Ontario. George Orwell – 1984 – Part 1, Chapter 5 Now..
A hair-raising elegy: Growing up in Georgetown at Wright Smith’s Barbershop, 1960-1964, and beyond I don’t remember my first haircuts as a child growing up in small town Ontario. My memories of hair- raising adventures date back to about 1960, when I was around eight years old. A new barber arrived in town, Mr. Wright..
Remembering my mother, in honour of her birthday… March 27,1918 Angelina Elizabeth “Jill” McBryde (née Reiser) 1918-2001 Resident of Georgetown from 1955 until 1964 An active member of the St. John’s United Church congregation, my mother also worked as a secretary for the Reverend Ian Fleming from about 1961 until 1964. Her office looked onto..
Valentines Day Audiobook Book Launch: Attach your antlers and have a listen La description française suit la description anglaise. I’m excited to announce that the English version of my audiobook is available on Audible, Amazon, and Apple Books, meaning listeners can purchase it outright, use an Audible credit, or get a discount if they own..
La version française de ce texte suit la version anglaise. Excremental vision By her own admission, my mom began toilet training my sister and me when we reached about six months of age. Her fervent desire to get us out of diapers was a rather extreme reflection of the prevailing zeitgeist of the 1950s where..
Georgetown, Ontario, 1962, Chapel Street School: Skipping Grade 5…a crippling blow My grade skipping saga began oh so long ago, in 1961, when I was in 4th grade. Back in the day, kids were routinely “skipped” if deemed academically meritorious by some individual or board. This fate was my social undoing. During first term in..
Reigning cats…and dogs When I was a small child, I had the gooiest of soft spots for all animal creatures, fictional or otherwise. Every night before bed, my dad would read me a story featuring the little forest and meadow people of Thornton W. Burgess, including Grandfather Frog, Jimmy Skunk, Johnny Chuck, Jerry Muskrat, Paddy..
She’s dreaming of a Weetabix Christmas My wife Anne cannot live without Weetabix. This is a serious addiction. On Christmas morning, she will devour a delicious bowl of Weetabix as always. She has wolfed down Weetabix in many countries and on several continents and can provide a detailed, granular analysis of Weetabix variants world wide…
Random Thoughts on “Black Friday” My wife Anne is a latecomer to North American culture. Growing up in Communist Czechoslovakia, she learned at a very early age to tune out the constant drumbeat of mendacious propaganda. This impermeable filter has served her well in the Ameri-Canadian commercial sphere where orgies of greed punctuate a perpetual..
Are the bees for the birds? The custom of “telling the bees” is a charming and ancient tradition where beekeepers inform their bees about significant events in their lives, such as deaths, births, marriages, and other major occurrences. This practice is believed to have its roots in Celtic mythology, where bees were seen as messengers..