Essays

Swimming, fishing alongside grandpa

What did we do in those long, lazy summer days of the early 1960’s? Those days when the grasshoppers buzzed and the skies, the prairie skies, were boundless with rarely a cloud to be seen. My fondest memories come from days at the lake, Atton’s Lake, an hour’s drive from Cut Knife, Saskatchewan.

A seniors’ home where creativity rules? This is some kind of paradise!

One morning I admire a short, new path of dirt and gravel, it’s free of tree roots, with a slight incline that leads up to the cloister of raised garden beds. Beds that in June are bursting with poppies, lettuce, tomatoes and strawberries. What’s so remarkable about this path of 60 feet or so? It…

I love bugs – and it’s time I spoke up on their behalf

Some seniors golf three times a week, others chase after grandchildren and some knit socks and scarves for the homeless. Me, I’m rescuing and speaking up for bugs.

A year ago I wouldn’t have confessed to that proclivity, but now I have no hesitation. Living rurally for the past decade, and retired from my work…

Baking with Metta | PARABOLA

I‘ve been retreating off and on for three decades. Every retreat has a schedule that retreatants are encouraged to follow, although no one takes attendance and keeps track of what you are doing. For all of the retreats I’ve done I’ve followed the schedule pretty much. Sitting meditation. Walking meditation. Guided meditation. Sitting meditation. Lunch…

Why We must not just ‘get over it’

“Why don’t they get over it? How much longer do I have to hear about those Indian residential schools?”

I believe that the above sentiments, sadly, are held by many non-Indigenous Canadians.

I am a non-Indigenous woman and an ally working on reconciliation. I live on the unceded territory of the Snuneymuxw First…