In the bag/No Strings on Me - What the H E double hockey sticks

In the bag/No Strings on Me - What the H E double hockey sticks Creative Writing and Photography. Iconic images of my world. STOCK images available. This page is an outlet for my life. I have been writing for almost 50 years.

It's a space for my followers, friends and family to read my columns, hear about my life (as it happens) and contribute to my "tuning-up". My writing has been published in some way, shape or form since 1968. The more I write, the more I learn. My recent work - both photographic and written - has been influenced by my life in a small community. I admire the works of local artists and am inspired by

simple lifestyles. Recently, a person asked me what I think an artist is. I have friends who are farmers, bakers, butchers, athletes, writers, painters, photographers, spinners, weavers, puppet-makers, musicians, actors, singers, song-writers, designers, builders …. and on, and on. A true artist, to me, is a person who is true to their calling and who outperforms themselves every, single day. A true artist is a person who knows the difference between productivity and creativity. A true artist is compelling to watch, while they work. This space celebrates the true artist in every one of us. Art on.

03/15/2026

Sometimes it's hard to focus. I'm having one of those "sometimes".

01/30/2026

Once, in another lifetime, I was an eleven year old kid sitting in the backseat of a car being driven around by a drunk driver. I thought I could never again be so utterly frightened. And, until very recently, nothing much compared to that life/threatening-changing event. I felt as if nobody could feel my angst and for many years after I’d wake up in a panic from the dream of that wild drive. However, over the years those dreams faded. And then?

Well, and then on January 7th, Renee Good was brutally murdered in Minneapolis by ICE “agents”. It, too, wasn’t a dream. It didn’t happen anywhere near me but here we are dealing and reeling in a nightmare of new dimensions. I didn’t know Renee Good. But Renee Good was not a nobody. Renee Good was an “everybody”. I imagine she went from “I’m not angry with you” to feeling her life disappear in her vehicle. Renee Good was a Mother, she had family and friends. Renee Good was thirty-seven years old. Renee Good was a writer. Renee Good was a poet. Renee Good was a citizen of the United States of America. At the time of her murder, Renee Good was unarmed. Renee Good was in the right place but at the wrong time. In cold blood, in front of dozens of horrified people, and now on video for millions to see, Renee Good was shot at point blank range and, then, denied medical assistance in the final minutes of her life. I cried when I saw the videos. I felt that icy, cold fear of a dangerous, deadly outcome overwhelming me. Renee Good was all of us, cruising through life, thinking ordinary thoughts, doing everyday things until she wasn’t.

Today, January 24th, another person was murdered in Minneapolis by ICE “agents”. Alex Jeffrey Pretti was a Registered Nurse who worked in the ICU of the Minneapolis Veterans’ Affairs Health Care System. Alex Pretti was thirty-seven years old. Alex Pretti had family who loved him. Alex Pretti had friends and co-workers who respected him. Alex Pretti was a peaceful protester who was in the right place at the wrong time. Alex Pretti was a citizen of the United States of America. Alex Pretti had no criminal record. Alex Pretti did have a handgun on his person but he had a valid gun permit and Minnesota is an open carry State. Alex Pretti did not brandish his gun as he stooped to help a person shoved to the ground by an ICE “agent”. On camera, ICE “agents” disarmed Alex Pretti and likely used Alex Pretti’s gun to murder him after several “agents” had beaten him to the ground.

What has any of this got to do with my nightmare of so many years ago? Everything. Renee Good and Alex Pretti were innocent people who happened to be in, what they thought was, the right place but it was the wrong time. They believed they’d be okay. They believed they’d go home. They surely believed what they were doing, at the time, wasn’t dangerous. They were victims. Alex on a sidewalk videoing ICE “agents” with his cellphone. Renee in her car trying to go home. What fuelled those unprovoked attacks? Drugs? Do the ICE “agents” get a hit of something before they head out on their sprees? Do ICE “agents” use ICE/methamphetamines or Cathinones? I know the driver of the car I was in used alcohol to fuel his pain and his bad decision. But I got to go home.

Should we care about Renee Good and Alex Pretti? Absolutely! We are close neighbours to a greedy, hostile regime which doesn’t believe in, nor protect, the democratic rights of its citizens, nor that of its allies.

Neither Renee Good nor Alex Pretti had “asked for it”. Neither Renee Good nor Alex Pretti woke up thinking they should “poke the bear” today. That “bear” was provoked long before Renee Good and Alex Pretti found themselves in the right place at the wrong time.

May Renee and Alex Rest in Peace. May we all be aware of our surroundings. May we all “say something if we see something”.

01/25/2026

And the snow just continues to fly! When I was a kiddo snow was such a treat. Mind you, we didn't have all of the technical wear we have at our disposal today. Winter meant frostbite, soggy socks, dry skin and chapped lips. Our winter wear was usually made of wool, including those "leggings". We wore brown plastic galoshes over our shoes and our feet were always wet and cold. Our mittens were usually hand knitted and not always warm. Our poor little hands were brutally cold and chapped for most of the winter months. After a few hours in the snow Mom usually hung all of our outdoor gear on lines strung around the basement. The house smelled of damp wool and wet boots.

Did we live in the "good old days"? I don't think so but did we have a good old time? Well, yes we did. Toboggans, sleds, skates and galoshes. No ski trips. No southern vacations. But those cookies and milky, sweat tea tasted pretty damned amazing after the chill of Weston in the winter.

11/24/2025

What do you need today?
A hug or help?

05/31/2025

Where is Spring? I may have missed it!

02/23/2025

A chemical leak at the INVISTA plant that could be smelled throughout Kingston last night did not pose a health hazard, according to the company.
More info on what happened below.

02/07/2025

There are several FB pages helping Canadians buy Canadian. How about a page which helps The County keep it local! Locally made produce, products and services!!

If we can, let's try to find a local producer for as many of our purchases as possible.

If you have recipes that are simple and similar to the big corporations products, let's share those. If you know a person who makes the thing, bakes the thing, knits the thing, sews the thing, plants the thing, grows the thing, brews the thing, distills the thing, bottles/cans the thing, fixes the thing, reuses/recycles/trades the thing - let's share that information.

Any "thing" else?

12/20/2024

I'm approaching nineteen years writing for The Times.

It's a great gig! I'm glad Mr. C called and bought me a coffee.

11/21/2024

Published TODAY, November 20th, The Times

I, for one, can’t believe how quickly 2024 has passed. Didn’t I just complain about taking all of the lawn furniture out of the barn for warm weather gatherings and not too long ago I whined about putting it all back. The same goes for the behemoth of a holiday tree. I feel as if I just sweated and grunted and shoved that son-of-a-birch into the storage room and now I am out of breath thinking about hauling it’s sorry Aspen out of hiding, again. There would have been a day when I’d be willing and able to do a whole lot of holiday prepping with without asking for help. You could say I’m was of those people who took pride in being independent, or stubborn. I simply don’t like to bother others. I was raised with an “I can do it by myself” attitude. My parents were like that. My siblings are like that. LOML is like that. Sometimes, it’s okay to just do things on your own and get it done without a debate or a second opinion. I understand how it works. But there are times when asking for help is going to be the best thing you can do for yourself.So, let’s talk about asking for help.

As the holiday season approaches many of us will begin to feel the pressure all of those festive things. Like paying for “the things”, overindulging in too many sweet treats, too many tipsy eggnogs or not getting enough sleep because we’re worrying about getting “the things” done. Correct me if I’m wrong but not getting enough exercise and fresh air also adds to your stress. Raise your candy cane flavoured double-double if you can feel the pressure rising at this point in November! The holiday season should be a time to relax and enjoy what we’ve got and who’s nearby. But many of us will only think of what we don’t have or what we should have done. We don’t have enough perfectly decorated and cookies. We don’t have enough ice. We don’t have enough refreshments in the bevvie cabinet. We don’t have the magazine-photoshoot-worthy decor. We didn’t buy everything on the gift list and we certainly won’t win the Martha Stewart Perfection in Gift Wrapping Award. While November is said to be the darkest month for people who suffer with mental health disorders, the month of December can certainly be the incubator for a complete loss of control. During the weeks and days approaching our holiday time every single one of us will experience some kind of stress. For some of us, the stress will take over and our healthy balance will blow up the chimney.

What do I know about all of this stuff, you ask. Well, like a lot of you I spent many, many years doing all of the stressful things. The one thing I never made time for was me. I didn’t go for walks. I didn’t skip the eggnogs. I ate far too many Hello Dollies (my biggest holiday indulgence). I believed everything had to be perfect and was very critical of my effort to make the holiday perfect. One day I realized I was in way over my head and said as much to our family. A very wise Child of Mine suggested the adults of the family should stop shopping for the grown-ups. And, at that point in time, our immediate family was made up of adults who had jobs and didn’t need the perfect gift because we/they had the resources to buy their own things. COM also pointed out the holiday season wasn’t about shopping, or baking, or drinking. The holidays were about getting together, sharing a meal, playing board games, watching corny movies, reading books, lots of laughs and, maybe a glass of something bubbly. Wise Child of Mine also suggested we incorporate the “If you want to give a gift you have to make that gift. If you didn’t make it, don’t give it.” Since 2004 the festive season has been a nicer time, for all of us.

So, Festive People, don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. But, also, be the “help” if you can. Enjoy the weather, the movies, the books, the homemade cookies, the hand knitted socks, the handcrafted cards and each other. January is a long, cold month. Don’t face 2025 a hangover of bills and other regrets from your stressful holiday season.

N.B. We do buy holiday gifts for the children in the family BUT we use the rule: Something they want. Something they need. Something to wear. Something to read.

11/13/2024

Published, TODAY, The Times

Don’t you just love statistics!? I, for one, am always impressed with something along the line of “The number of doughnuts sold on World Doughnut Day would fill thirty-five Olympic-sized swimming pools.” Imagine, if you can, someone measures the volume of the average doughnut, then finds out how many were consumed on Doughnut Day and then figures out how many doughnuts it would take to fill an Olympic-sized pool!! That, right there, is what statistics shouldn’t be about but somehow we love those zany comparisons. So, how about this statistic, one in every eight people in the world live with a mental health issue. That’s a bit harder to comprehend because we aren’t talking about filling a space. We’re talking about living, breathing people. Essentially, what that statistic means is each and every one of us know someone who is living with a mental heath disorder. Chances are there is someone in your circle of family or friends who is mentally ill. You, likely, don’t know it or notice it or know who it is. That’s a statistic.
“Mental health disorders involve significant disturbances in thought processes, emotional regulation and/or behaviour.” It’s easy to understand why mental health disorders are so difficult to accept because, for the most part, we can’t see a mental health problem. People who suffer with mental health problems work very hard to hide the problem. Usually there isn’t an outward sign or look. Let’s face it, most of us aren’t looking for a mental health problems. Often if someone has a problem we think they might be acting “a bit off” or we chalk it up to the weather, the news, work environments, recent bad experiences and life in general. And, while both you and I feel pressure from “life in general” it doesn’t mean we have a mental health disorder. The reality is, most of us would rather have a traumatic, life altering, physical injury than have mental health problem. Mental health has always been stigmatized even in the most progressive countries of the world. In Canada it is considered one of the top social problems. Compared to world statistics, in Canada one in every five people is affected by poor mental health.
“Out of sight, out of mind” is how a lot of us deal with mental health concerns. We can’t see Anxiety Disorders, Depression, Bipolar Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Schizophrenia, Eating Disorders, Disruptive Behaviours and Dis-social Disorders or Neuro-developmental Disorder unless the sufferer is physically acting out. Often we think those acting-out behaviours are just fleeting. It’s easy to miss a true mental health problem if we’ve been taught to react to those problems with weasel words and phrases like “lunatic, nuts, insane, the cheese slipped off the cracker, a few bricks short a load, flew off the handle or looney-toons”. We diminish the problem by using slang terms. Mostly, we’ve become used to those words to describe someone’s behaviour because it makes a situation seem lighthearted or unimportant. We don’t want to feel uncomfortable, we don’t know what to say, we don’t know how to act and we don’t want to talk about it. But, empathetic friends and family can make a difference to a person who is suffering. If you know someone who is seems to be struggling reach out and let them know you are available to listen, hold hands, hug and help. Doing research to help someone find mental health services, learning and sharing self-care and coping techniques, treating them with respect and refusing to define their illness or diagnosis with “those labels goes a long way to give a hand-up to a person who is in poor health - mental or physical.
The Canadian Mental Health Association has an online profile with excellent suggestions and solid information. However, according to the CMHA, “Mental illness treatment and support is still not met with the resources and funding allocated to physical illness.” Additionally, many sufferers are not seeking a diagnosis because they don’t want to live with the stigma and the discrimination. Like poor physical health, poor mental health is costly with time being lost through unemployment and absenteeism amongst people who are struggling at work. Until the support situation changes, we can spend a bit of time learning more about the signs of mental illness and offering support to our friends and family in need. We can be the supportive statistic. We can be the person who was there when our loved one needed us most.
In Prince Edward and Hastings, help is available. If you, or someone you know, are/is in crisis, please call the Crisis Intervention Centre at 613-969-7400 ext. 12753, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The 9-8-8 Su***de Crisis Helpline is also a 24/7 support service. Call or text 9-8-8.

11/09/2024

Published, Wednesday November 6th 2024, The Times

It’s Sunday. It’s November 3rd and if you aren’t concerned about the outcome of the USA Presidential Election, you should be. Whatever the outcome, we’ve got a huge pile of problems in this old world. If the USA has decided to elect a deranged, Putin-loving, hatred-towards-women spewing, psychopath as their President, then we’re in for a heap of hellfire and brimstone. Oh yes we are!

Like a lot of all y’all, I’m sick of all the hatred and rhetoric being slung around by politicians and trolls. As it turns out, it’s not just the politicians and trolls in the Good Ole U.S. of A. Right here in Canada we’ve got a whole lot of verbal abuse volleyball going on amongst the elected officials, both provincially and federally. I’m not so naive as to believe this is a brand new phenomenon. I know mudslinging is as old as cave drawings. The difference now is, it’s a digital world. We can’t open a browser, view a newsfeed or listen to a broadcast without being assailed by vile rhetoric, unsupported conspiracy theories and unadulterated malarkey. Recently, I chatted with a friend who admitted to being addicted to watching and listening to “the news”. My friend said it was the first thing they did every morning and the last thing they did every night. They watch the news on broadcast television. Could it be we’re addicted to the high we feel when our minds are assaulted this way? Have we learned to love the tension, the stress, the angst and the foreboding? I think we must thrive on all of those feelings. The pure rush that anger brings is like a sugar overload. It just isn’t as fattening.

Making voters feel anxious is a very calculated objective. Triggering the voters’ emotions has a huge impact on the decisions voters make. Sometimes, a voter has already made up their mind about one candidate but are inundated with negativity aimed at the candidate and that will, in some cases, make the voter rethink their choice or, simply not vote for fear of making a mistake. When there is a wide space between two candidates, like Harris and Trump, it’s easy to drive a wedge in or fill that space with potential doubts, slander, garbage and personal issues. When the public is overwhelmed with information - lies or truths - a feeling of panic sets in. Instead of taking a deep breath, checking the source of the information or looking for more reliable, unbiased coverage voters just give into it and latch onto the junk being spoon fed to them.

As far as Canadian politics goes, we’re not seeing quite as much violence and hate-mongering but we are getting a lot of nasty, emotional bombast which makes most of us feel ill-informed and unacquainted and a bit queasy. The void between political leaders, here in Canada, is widening. It might be a good time to go on a political news diet. Give yourself the time to process what you’re hearing and ask yourself why the election campaign has changed from platform issues to private and personal issues. If you’re breathless and swamped by it all, switch your telly to the Aquarium Channel and pour yourself a cup of camomile tea. It works for me. Sometimes I need a cookie, too.

08/28/2024

Published, The Times, August 28th 2024
DO NOT COPY, PASTE, SHARE

I remember when the last weeks of summer meant a trip to The EX, back-to-school clothing shopping/swapping and the end of summer camps, which most of the neighbourhood kids referred to as “Summer School”. We went to a Catholic School in town which really wasn’t any different from the public school a few blocks away except we had to take a bus to school. A Grey Coach Bus met us up on Main Street and we were whisked away into Weston to learn our A B Cs and 1, 2, 3s. Most of the teachers at St. John’s School were lay persons. However, the grade one teacher was a delightful woman we knew as Mother Leone and the Principal/Grade Eight teacher was a scary woman, Mother Cecily. I never had the pleasure of being in either one’s class and I suppose I didn’t miss out on anything in that regard. I wasn’t exactly the kid who bought into the whole Catholic dialogue, Catechism and the other things which were faith-based. I may have been the kiddo who asked too many questions when things just didn’t seem logical. I’m still that kid. I’m a lot older but I still get a wrinkly nose when I don’t see the logic in a process. Speaking of logic in the process, are your littles ready for their first day of school?

Right now, there’s probably a whole bunch of little kids who will be heading off to school for the first time who are, plain and simply, not ready. They aren’t ready for six hours of reading, writing and arithmetic. They aren’t ready for listening to, or taking, directions. They aren’t ready to sit quietly during a lesson or a story. They aren’t ready to share. They are clueless about respect. They don’t know their whole name. They don’t know their address. They aren’t ready to get their snacks and lunch out of those fancy containers and into their bellies without help. They aren’t ready to wash their own hands, blow their noses or even wipe their own bums. Some of them won’t know how to put their jackets, sweaters or shoes on. Some of them won’t know how to get to the bathroom, on time, without someone suggesting their “p*e p*e dance” might be a good indicator of the need to use the facilities. Little kids absolutely need to be taught all of those things before they head into a classroom for the first time next week. The classroom teacher and, possibly, the educational assistant, are not there to teach your kid how to do those things. Of course, I’m not writing about children who are neurodivergent and/or have special needs requiring assistance from an aide or attendant.

By the time a child is five years old they should know how to follow simple rules and know how to take turns. They should be able to answer simple questions about a story they’ve just heard. Little school kids should know how to count to ten. They should understand the concept of “today, tomorrow, yesterday, morning, afternoon and night”. They should know their parent’s or caregiver’s name. A five year old should know all of the primary colours and recognize some of the letters of the alphabet. They should be able to convey what’s hurting and use appropriate language to describe body parts. A five year old kid still has big emotions but should be well on their way to coping with those emotions without resorting to shouting, crying, hitting or having a tantrum. Imagine, if you can, being a kindergarten teacher who has a room full of five year olds, some of who aren’t really ready to be there!

If you’re the parent/caregiver of a soon-to-be-in-kindergarten student, you have to remember the teacher isn’t you. You are the parent and your responsibility is to make sure your child is, indeed, ready to take the next step in their growth, learning and development. The teacher is there to use their knowledge, and skills, to engage with the students, inspire them to learn and help them investigate the lesson topics. They don’t have time to tie twenty-five pairs of shoes, wipe twenty-five derrieres, open twenty-five lunch boxes/drink boxes/cheese string packages or button twenty-five sweaters/jackets/shirts. If your five year old kid can’t manage the basics maybe they aren’t ready for a full day of kindergarten. You’ve got less than a week to get all of those boxes checked.

“If you can read this, thank a teacher.” If you can tie your own shoes and know how to wipe your hiney, thank your parents or caregivers.

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