Sharon's Blurb

  There is a very large Red Bud tree in the centre of our front lawn. For a week or so in May, it blossoms tiny little pink flowers. It has become something of a landmark on our street; people stop and stare, smell the flowers to see if there is a scent, and sometimes even take a photo or two. Passerby often comment on it; it has become the pride of the neighbourhood. It was there when we moved into this house ten years ago, and continues to spread and grow. It has reached out over the driveway now, shading my car, and also most of the lawn too, giving shade to the grass. Last year, an ice storm damaged one of its larger limbs, cracking it away from the trunk. We called a tree company which suggested securing it back to the tree with three bolts. Instead, we cut off the limb close to the main trunk. A large circle remains where the limb was amputated. I am not sure what the future holds for that tree; some young sucker/saplings have started sprouting around th...

  When I was taking the Journalism course at Humber College back in the late 1980's, the weekly Current Events quiz in one of my classes was the bane of my existence. I dreaded it. Unlike one fellow classmate who aced it every week, I was lucky if I got 5 out of 10. Despite being in Journalism, I just didn't keep up with the news. I didn't have the time, I told myself. Or even the desire, if I'm being honest. Even throughout my long and storied Journalism career in Broadcasting, which I enjoyed for more than two decades, I often didn't have a "world view" of the goings on and current events. My dad would often ask me if I had heard about this story or that story in the news; I was embarrassed to say that I had mostly not. He was stymied that even though I worked in the industry, I knew little about world events and goings on in the bigger sphere of things. Again, I just didn't have the time. Didn't have the time to get through...

  My mother always told me that I was born during a heat wave. I checked the historical records of May 1962, and sure enough, a few days after I was born, temperatures soared to 34 degrees Celsius.   I can only imagine the discomfort of my nursing mother, in a tiny apartment, with a new tiny baby, with only maybe a fan, and definitely no air conditioning back in those days. But I have always thought that explains why I love the heat. I love the warmth on my skin, and don't even mind the humidity. I thrive in the heat, adore the sunshine that accompanies it, and of course, everything to do with spring and summer. The plants and flowers, long days and short nights, the birds and bees and even the insects. Love the sandals, shorts and t-shirts; heading out the door without having to don hat, coat, boots and mitts. But now the entire world seems to be heating up, warming to such a degree that people are dying. I do recall Nostradamus made a prediction back...

 I had to stop into the local drug/everything store the other day. I was on my way home from the barn, and needed to pick up a thing or two. I was wearing my hot pink toque, my orange scarf, my army green winter barn coat, black jeans and tall winter boots. Not only did my hot pink toque and orange scarf clash like the dickens, (I can hear my mother now), my coat was decorated with horse hair, jeans covered in mud and hay, and boots covered in manure. I realize I may have looked like a person who is housing challenged. Is that the politically correct term these days? Someone who may or may not have a roof over their heads, or had a shower that day if at all. To say I turned a few heads is an understatement. I realized I did not look like the usual customer in that very nice drug/everything store, where the first department one entered upon was the cosmetic and fragrance counter. I looked like I needed both. I pretended I was nonplussed, and proceeded to go up an...

  Did anyone else feel that? A subtle, yet seismic shift? March 1st, the Meteorological First Day of Spring, brought with it a palpable feeling. As if Mother Nature got the memo. The temperatures started climbing. The snow started melting. The snow, which had begun to fall in November and seemingly hadn't stopped since, was finally seceding. We were thankful we hired a snow removal service this winter; we lost count of how many times he came after he cleared our driveway 40 times. There was a moment when the city thought it might run out of salt. There are still mounds of rock solid ice and dirt left at the roadsides. But now, there is hope. The sun was even caught shining the other day. Dog walkers are daring not to wear their parkas. The sidewalks look surprisingly safe for pedestrians, no slippery patches of black ice in sight. Yesterday, I saw not one, but TWO motorcycles!   AND an assortment of shorts, tank tops, and running shoes. I...

  I was sure my ears were bleeding. I was sitting in the waiting area of a local mechanic shop, innocently getting a new bulb put in my left rear brake light, when the words coming from a back office hit the fan. Fuck this, and fuck that, and fuckin', fuckin', fuckin'. I felt assaulted. Violated. There I was, a paying customer, minding my own business, reading a book on my tablet, patiently waiting, when someone might as well have clobbered me on the head. That's how shocking and disturbing it was. I didn't say anything; just glanced up and at the woman at the reception desk. She was nonplussed. I guess this happens all the time. I had heard it during a previous visit while in the same waiting area.   Sounded like the same male voice. Should I say anything? I didn't. I let it slide. A few days later as I was entering a grocery store, some construction workers were putting up a scaffolding to do some work on the exterior. And the...