The Painted "Sleeve"

I've never really been a fan of tattoos, personally; although, I have seen a few that I thought were quite attractive. I've known people who chose and wear their tattoos very well, while others' choice of tattoo design or body location make me wonder how much thought or research actually went into this very permanent decision.

I know that it's not any of my business how other people choose to adorn their own bodies. It's just that I have never been able to envision any tattoo I'd want to look at in the mirror every day for the rest of my life. In fact, I know for certain that I could never get a tattoo, because one day I'd look at my reflection and want the tattoo gone ... Need the tattoo gone!

Then today, I saw some amazing face painting pictures by Art of Design on Facebook, including one that was clearly a free-style arm painting that fairly realistically mimicked the "sleeve" tattoos I see quite often. It was bright and beautiful, and temporary; and I felt immediately that I could occasionally wear just this kind of whimsical body art.

I'll probably never be as enamored with tattoos as are many others, but art - even body art - must truly be in the eye of the beholder and the wearer; so, I'll try to be more tolerant of others' tattoo choices in the future.

And, no matter what anyone else thinks of my choices, the painted "sleeve" is a sleeve I believe I could live with, because I wouldn't actually have to live with it!

Photo: artofdesign.ca/face-painting

Good-bye "Gorgeous"!

This post is written as a tribute to Omar Sharif, the actor, who passed away today at the age of 83. I knew he'd been in failing health; however, his sudden passing came as quite a shock.

When Dr. Zhivago first came out in 1965 and my parents came home from seeing it at the movie theatre, I thought Dr. Zhivago was just a movie about a modern day doctor in a hospital. Later, when I finally saw the movie, I realized it was a period piece of epic proportions and I was hooked on the passionate poet/doctor.

Omar Sharif was always one of my favourites, right back to my teen years, when he was my first "ideal man" and I though no one else could measure up. I suppose it was not just Omar Sharif's smoldering good looks that had women, all over the globe, swooning: His combination French, Greek, Italian, Spanish, Arabic accent; one he said "enabled [him] to play the role of a foreigner without anyone knowing exactly where [he] came from," certainly made him easy to listen to, as well. Fast forward to his portrayal of Nicky Arnstein in 1968's Funny Girl, when Barbra Streisand's Fanny Brice appropriately greeted him with, "Hello, gorgeous;" and he certainly was!

And yet, he wasn't just a pretty face. Omar Sharif also gave remarkable performances in classic movies, including: 1962's Lawrence of Arabia, 1965's Genghis Khan, 1969's Mackenna's Gold, 1974's The Tamarind Seed, and 1975's Funny Lady.

I loved all of Omar Sharif's movies, at least all that I've had the pleasure to see; but, a favourite in our family has always been the 1992 TV movie, "Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris," in which he played the generous, kindhearted Marquis Hippolite to Angela Lansbury's title character. We watched "Mrs. 'Arris" as a family; three generations together, laughing, crying, and thoroughly enjoying. It was years before we were able to view it again, but we all remembered it fondly.

It makes me quite sad to know that Omar Sharif, that "gorgeous" man, is gone! It is some consolation, though, to remember that Omar Sharif, the actor, and his memorable performances in some of our favourite movies, will live on forever.

Surprise Sunflowers

My husband, Doug, has been feeding the wildlife in our backyard for several years, including: chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits, and birds. Our sightings of songbirds like Mourning doves, Cardinals, Blue jays, Orioles, and Finches are sometimes rare; but, our Sparrow population is prolific. The Sparrows attack our feeder as though each meal is the last they’ll ever see, often leaving nothing behind.

Imagine our surprise when we looked out this week and found a sunflower plant growing within a foot of the bird-feeder. Growing like a weed, this plant doesn’t just have one flower head on it, it has nearly a dozen heads with a few buds still to open. Quite simply, it’s beautiful!

I’ve done some reading, and believe our sunflower plant may be the result of a wild sunflower seed germinating, resulting in the multi-head beauty.

However it came about, our surprise Sunflower may eventually provide added sustenance for our hungry feathered friends. As well, this lovely addition to our back garden is certainly worthy of the following tribute Haiku. Enjoy!

"A seed dropped from the feeder
And in our garden
Grew, fiery gold sunflowers!"
nhg

Indebted

For the last couple of years, my husband and I have been transforming our front yard, from weedy lawn to flagstone patio and perennial garden. It's been a labour of love, although an enormous amount of work.

This spring, likely due to equal portions of inadequate mulch and an abundance of rain, the weeds have been making a concerted effort to stymie us at every turn. In desperation, I called a good friend of mine to ask if she might have some time to help me with the onerous weeding ahead.

As, it turned out, she did ... generously giving up her own free time, on three separate occasions, to help me not only weed my front garden, but the side strip between my house and the next door neighbour's, as well.

She was relentless, in a kind but forceful way, in keeping me motivated even when I felt I couldn't go on. Rita was also accepting of the help my 3-yr-old granddaughter, in her over-sized safety-pinned gardening gloves, insisted on giving as she gushed, "I just love gardowing!"

I believe that this dreaded job turned out to be a truly positive experience, mostly because we had a fearless leader with a strong back, a way with a shovel, and who knew how to motivate. Together, we not only got the job done ... it seemed we enjoyed getting the job done.

Two days ago, encouraged by the previous attempt at making the front yard presentable, I spent several hours, some of it with a 10-yr-old granddaughter assisting me, pulling some new weedy invaders from the garden.

As a result of all this attention, our front garden is looking beautiful, these days. For this I am, in no small measure, grateful to my long-time friend Rita, who's never failed me when I need her, and in whom I am once again indebted.

Happy Canada Day!

Several years ago, CFRB Radio, 1010 on the dial, ran an unofficial contest to find a more inclusive version of Oh Canada on the Jim Richards' Showgram. This search was initiated in response to criticism, at the time, about the lack of inclusiveness in the current lyrics.

Oh Canada’s original lyrics were written, in French, for the 1880 Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day by Calixa Lavallée. Since then, they’ve been translated into English and revised several times, not always to the betterment of an overall inclusive message.

I’m usually uneasy with the idea of changing words written by another writer, especially when the changes are made with the objective of righting unintentional exclusions; however, I believe that in the case of a national anthem, political correctness is essential to inclusion of all citizens.

So, the poet in me created my own revision of Oh Canada, endeavouring to be as inclusive as possible. My lyrics were highly commended but did not win the competition. Happily, though, my revised version of Oh Canada was described as one that, “Touches on all the things that people feel about being Canadian.” I was also thrilled that my reworking of the anthem was chosen to be sung on-air by Canada’s renowned vocalist Michael Burgess.

Today, in honour of Canada Day, I'm sharing this story; my Oh Canada revision, below; and link to the 1 min 44 sec CFRB-1010/Michael Burgess Radio clip

"Oh Canada, our home and chosen land
True patriot love in all our hearts command
With glowing pride, we see thee rise, the true north strong and free
From far and wide, oh Canada, we stand on guard for thee
Long may we live, tolerant and free
Oh Canada, in splendour, sea to sea
Oh Canada, we stand on guard for thee"

Inclusive Revision
by Nancy Haigh Gordon

Snores Galores

Upon reading that today is National Siblings Day, I started thinking that I'd like to post something sibling related.  

My [baby] sister, Jennifer, is eight years younger than I, and although we get along very well, now as adults, the huge gap in our ages was very evident when we were children. Our brother, David, the much loved middle child, passed away in 1982, and Jennifer and I still miss him very much.

In honour of National Siblings Day 2015, I am posting a photograph taken in 1990, by Jennifer, of the two of us.

I'm also posting a poem, entitled Snores Galores, which I wrote in 2002 about Jennifer (pictured on the left) as a child.


Snores Galores

My little baby sister snores
Although she’s only just turned three
She’s louder than a lion roars
No sleep tonight, I guarantee

Although she’s only just turned three
She’ll hog the bed and covers, too
No sleep tonight, I guarantee
She’ll suck her thumb; I swear, it’s true

She’ll hog the bed and covers, too
In slumber, she’ll call out her dreams
She’ll suck her thumb; I swear, it’s true
This could go on all night, it seems

In slumber, she’ll call out her dreams
She’s louder than a lion roars
This could go on all night, it seems
My little baby sister snores

by Nancy Haigh Gordon

The Promise

In honour of the 1st day of Spring 2015, I am posting a poem I wrote in 2002 while learning the art of writing poetry with Tom Torrance.

The Promise is my variation on the Sestina form, written about the changes taking place underneath the ground in the garden, during the transition between the seasons. I hope you enjoy it!


The Promise

Cold blizzard winds and winter snow
White flurry blowing soft and deep
Illumed in quiet moonlit glow
A springtime promise yet to keep
As bulbs and flowers far below
Embrace their long-awaited sleep

Embedded silently and deep
Untouched by warmth of sunny glow
The life-signs of the dormant, keep
A splendid secret far below
In frigid beds, new beauties sleep
Unconscious of bone-chilling snow

The charming blooms of future glow
Regrettably will have to keep
Though moisture trickles down below
To wake the drowsy as they sleep
Just one more blast of icy snow
Delays new growth in snow piles deep

A fresh beginning soon to keep
With new roots stirring far below
As sprouting takes the place of sleep
Sun warmed soil where once only snow
And spring rains making puddles deep
Create a wholesome springtime glow

And so from dreamland far below
Reaching upwards from restful sleep
Towards the clouds as white as snow
Fragile flora out of the deep
A soft and misty verdant glow
Becomes the promise now to keep

Caressing all, once rapt in sleep
Like tulips, white as winter snow
From clouds above so soft and deep
Bright sunlight shining amber glow
And in the garden, secrets keep
Forever changing all below

And when again the snow is deep
This glory keep from summer’s glow
While below, new promises sleep

Shatner's 'Logic'

I’m not acquainted with William Shatner, the actor; and, the only things I know we have in common are our Canadian heritage and our passion for Star Trek; yet, this week I've gained new respect for this multi-talented and generous man, particularly as he faced the deaths of two close friends and a barrage of tactless comments.

Criticism of Mr. Shatner's inability to attend the funeral of his close friend and fellow actor, Leonard Nimoy, due to a previous commitment made me wonder at the insensitivity of so many wholly unrelated yet seemingly entitled people who thought they had a right to judge another person's motivations or choices.

In this case, Shatner's justification for missing the funeral - that he "chose to honor a commitment [he'd] made months ago to appear at a charitable fundraiser" - should have been taken at face value, if only because any explanation to the judgmental and undeserving masses was fundamentally unnecessary. After all, Mr. Shatner is an 83 year-old man who’s earned the right to make his own decisions. He's also shown himself to be a rare man who believes in honouring commitments, something that should be applauded, not condemned.

It's very likely that Nimoy and Shatner had said their personal good-byes prior to Nimoy's death, and that Shatner had spoken privately with Nimoy's family about this unfortunate conflict. It's certain that the pain of losing his dear friend and the distress of not being able to attend the funeral must have weighed heavily on his mind, as his daughters were on hand to represent the Shatner family at the funeral.

Given that Nimoy's Star Trek alter ego, Spock, is famous for the philosophical line, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," Shatner's choice to honour the fundraiser commitment would seem to be an eerie Star Trek parallel, of which Nimoy would have approved. Either way, Spock would have called Mr. Shatner’s decision to honour his previous commitment, “Logical.”

LLAP

Since hearing the news of the passing of actor and director Leonard Nimoy today, I've spent a little time reading about the chronic obstructive pulminary disease that took his life. In doing so, I also discovered how vocal Mr. Nimoy became, following his COPD diagnosis, about the smoking which caused his illness more than 30 years after he quit smoking. I also read how he wished he had never started smoking in the first place.

My father, in an unfortunate parallel, also succumbed to a smoking related illness, and had been a militant reformed smoker ever since the first Surgeon General's warning appeared in Reader's Digest, some 30 years before. My father also lamented having started smoking in the first place, blaming the movies and movie stars of his youth for glamourizing smoking.

Smoking is a terrible scourge on everyone it touches, and it touches far too many. Mr. Nimoy's death, today, is as tragic as was my father's or any other smoker, because they were all preventable. It's inspiring that he, like my father, felt a duty to try to prevent anyone else from suffering the same fate, but tragic that none of their efforts could undo the damage already done to themselves.

And so, I'm writing this entry to beg every smoker, especially those I know and love, to quit smoking as soon as possible. Leonard Nimoy would want you to "live long and prosper," and so do I.

The Half-Way Point

Winter in Canada is generally long and cold, but this year has been more frigid than most. In fact, this February has been the coldest ever on record, and even some winter enthusiasts are starting to dream of warmer temperatures. How wonderful, then, to realize that today is the half-way point between Groundhog Day and the First Day of Spring.

This thought came to me yesterday, when my sister, Jennifer, posted a lovely picture of a favourite house on Facebook; one that is not only architecturally attractive, but also a home that practices environmental sustainability in the landscaping of their property. Jennifer recently completed a Landscape Technician Diploma program, and is looking forward to warmer weather so that she can put the landscape design skills she learned and her vision of sustainability into action.

My husband and I are also looking forward to warmer temperatures and continuing the transformation of our own front yard; from ratty, patchy lawn to environmentally sustainable plants, ground cover and a semi-permeable flagstone patio. A friend of my sister’s actually designed the original plan a decade ago. Last year, with Jennifer’s knowledge and guidance and our considerable research and perspiration, we finally began turning inspiration into implementation.

The bitter cold and snows of winter in Canada are sometimes hard to take; but, I think they help us appreciate the other seasons even more. Under all that ice and snow outside, lies this coming spring and summer's long-awaited greenery and colour. Sooner than we think, we'll be trading in our snow shovels for spades and hoes and weeding implements, and the bitterness of winter will become nothing more than a distant memory.

So, here's to the half-way point!

Unfriendly Malls

In a week when I'm told by radio newscasters that it's colder here in Southern Ontario than at the North Pole, I find myself thinking about how pedestrian and Eco unfriendly the contemporary free-standing malls really are.

When I was quite young, my father was the manager of the Singer Sewing Machine store at the Greater Hamilton Shopping Centre in East Hamilton. One of the first "shopping malls" in North America, in 1955 the GHSC was built in a "plaza" format on a property that was once home to the Jockey Club racetrack. Considered to be a state-of-the-art shopping strategy, I remember well how cold it was in winter-time, moving from store-to-store in the original plaza. It was rather like shopping on a city street, although without the risk of having to cross through busy traffic.

Sometime in the early 1970's, this plaza was eventually closed-in and renamed the Centre Mall. I remember how nice it was to simply park the car and one-stop-shop in comfort, no matter what the weather in this amazing upgrade to the open-air plaza, both of which served East Hamilton well for many years.

Fast forward to 2008 and the newly constructed Centre on Barton, a throw back to the plaza format, although configured in reverse. Touted as new and pedestrian friendly, I consider it's design to be a move backward in the science of mall construction. I can't even visualize the pedestrian friendly aspect of this redevelopment, where most of the stores are placed around the perimeter of the property, either with their backs to the street or the entire store situated well away from any foot traffic.

These new "malls" actually seem to force pedestrians to walk long distances between stores, and motorists to waste gas driving around the vast parking lot. There is no protection from inclement weather for shoppers, greater risk of injury on ice and snow in winter, and impossible conditions for seniors and people with mobility issues. I also envision increased danger for pedestrians who must now dodge vehicles racing from store-to-store.

Add to the aforementioned pedestrian unfriendly circumstances, in an era where we're continually asked to help reduce fuel and electricity consumption related to heating and air conditioning, these free-standing malls must certainly demand higher heating and cooling costs due to the separated buildings with so many exterior walls.

I know that my father was a huge supporter of the closing-in of the Greater Hamilton Shopping Centre, and believed that the comfort provided by the renovation of the plaza was good for patrons and by extension, business. I believe he was right, and hope that these unfriendly malls will one day, like the other incarnations, be a thing of the past.

Love and Life

Today, being Valentine's Day, brought back memories of how my darling husband and I met, and the challenges we faced on our journey to the alter. We did not meet on the internet, as I'm told so many people do these days; In fact, in our case, neither of us had found computer dating to be at all useful. Doug and I actually met the old-fashioned way - by chance; and except for a few bumps in the beginning, our relationship's working out extremely well.

Love and life are hardly ever easy or certain; but I've found that navigating life's joys and sorrows is always more rewarding when the time is spent with someone who genuinely cares about you and yours.

In honour of this continuing love story and Valentine's Day, I've decided to post an article about our meeting and courtship, which was originally published in the Hamilton Spectator for Valentine's Day, 2011. It's honest and heartfelt, and still rings true today.

Happy Valentine's Day!

The Mini Date

Two special friends of mine shared on Facebook the other day that they were on a mini date. They even posted pictures to commemorate the occasion. This couple of love birds took to the ice at an outdoor rink and spent a few hours alone together while the kids were at school. The pictures clearly showed them having a wonderful time, and by sharing their happiness, they actually helped cheer my rather ordinary work day.

I'm told that the simple but happy outing was the husband's idea, and cost less than $15 including skate rental. Apparently, he even tried to teach his wife to skate backwards; and when I pressed, I was told that, "yes" they even held hands.

I like the idea that mini dates are still possible and that expensive dinners, flashy jewelry, and exotic travel are not the only ways to show love and affection. It's nice to know that just spending time together still enriches the relationship and strengthens the bond; and, it's important to acknowledge when someone turns a seemingly ordinary day into an extraordinarily happy adventure.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and my fellow love bird and I are planning a mini date of our own. Our discounted Toronto Home Show tickets will allow us hours of viewing weird and wonderful home related products, exploring exiting renovation possibilities and just spending time alone together. We're simply opting out of the hype of "traditional" Valentine's celebrations and substituting ordinary togetherness, and a lot of hand-holding, too.

Happy mini date, everyone!

Vanquish the Anti-Vaxxers!

When I read that children younger than six months of age, and those with compromised immune systems are being put in physical danger by some parents’ refusal to have their children vaccinated based on unproven links between autism and vaccinations, I felt I needed to voice my personal point of view.

In 1961, at the age of three, I was hospitalized with a high fever that brought about a fever convulsion. My illness was quickly diagnosed when the rash appeared, as Rubeola, more commonly referred to as “Red” Measles. By then, I had compromised patients and staff in both emergency and children’s wards before being placed in isolation and then eventually sent home.  I was too young to remember how serious or complicated my sickness was but I know it was a very stressful time for my parents until I was finally well again.

I had chickenpox with my brother and the rest of the neighbourhood, as vaccinations for illnesses such as measles, mumps and chickenpox either hadn’t yet been developed or weren’t readily available.  In the spring of 1966 I was stricken with a case of Rubella, or “German” Measles, which left me with a chemical imbalance. For the next three years, I suffered almost daily from severe and unpredictable hives.  Every scratch test and elimination diet known to medical science failed to identify any other cause for this painful and debilitating condition. Fortunately, in a mysterious twist of fate, the hives vanished when I contracted poison ivy.

Fast forward to my adult years and the development of a chronic lung condition, usually associated with smokers, which I have never been:  Ironically, Bronchiectasis can also be associated with having had measles around the age of three. And, while it’s likely I will never know for sure what predisposed me to this late onset illness, it’s possible that I might have been spared had I not experienced measles, as an unprotected child.

Immunization of a significant portion of a population provides some protection for those with underdeveloped immunity, and is a proven way to appreciably prevent the spread of contagious diseases and viruses. Combine this with scientific data, absolutely disproving the autism-vaccination link and the irrational fear of immunization, and it’s contemptible that an ignorant minority are able to put the general population at unreasonable risk by eroding our “herd” immunity.

I know that my parents would have moved mountains to keep me from suffering from any preventable illness, and themselves from anguishing over a seriously ill child. Hopefully, it won’t take a massive measles epidemic, or worse, to finally vanquish the current anti-vaccination movement!

Mmmmuffins!

As far back as I can remember, my mother, Olive Macdonald Hunt, has made the most amazing desserts, including her Apple Pie that was awarded 1st prize by legendary Hamilton Spectator food writer, Norma Bidwell. Few of mom’s concoctions, however, can top her signature low-fat apple carrot muffins, a recipe she originally found on a Quaker oat bran leaflet that came in the mail.

Through years of subtle adaptation, Mom - also known as Grama and G.G. - began making the muffins nut-free for tree nut sensitive family members; discovered these egg white only muffins could be made even lower in fat if she replaced the vegetable oil with apple sauce; and recently began using store-bought egg whites to save on wasted egg yolks: All three changes went un-noticed.

These moist family favourites are easy to make, delicious any time of day, and my preference as a take-to-work snack. Our whole family loves them, including G.G.’s great granddaughters, who would eat the muffins as meal substitutes if we’d let them. She even makes special one-bite batches for the kiddies, for in-between meals and school snacks.

I must confess, that I sometimes defeat the low-fat health benefit by spreading a little butter on each half, but honestly, they really don’t need this decadent addition; and, if I eat them just as they are, I’ve found the ingredients per muffin calculate to only 2 unnamed diet points.

So, in conclusion, I’d simply like to say, - Well done, - to my mother for spoiling us so well all these years on pies and cakes and cookies; and, to let her know how grateful we all are, especially for the mmmmuffins! - Excuse me, my mouth was full!

Note:
And, by the way, my generous mother isn't secretive about her recipes; so, here it is for you to try - Enjoy!

Tie Wearing Professionals

I cannot remember not being able to tie a necktie, around my own neck or facing the wearer. Even though I was a girl, before I was 5 years old, I could tie respectable half and full Windsor knots. In fact, my dad’s early coaching once helped us to handily win a father-daughter tie tying contest at a church picnic.

Tie tying would seem to be a bit of a dying art, as more workplaces opt for a less formal dress code and polo or golf shirt uniforms. And yet, wearing a suit and tie to a job interview is still the acceptable standard, in most circumstances; and a requirement of some jobs, always.

I remember years ago, while working at a local radio station, the new young Sports Director, coming to me with both exciting and stressful news. He had been tapped to be the occasional fill-in for the regular Sportscaster on the local television news and had been told that he must wear a shirt and tie. My early training came in handy, as I tied two different options for him and showed him how to slide the knot, so he could get them on and off by himself: He not only looked professional on the air, he also didn’t have to wear the same tie every night. Eventually, he got the knack, and I’m happy to say that I’ve heard he’s a tie-wearing professional to this day.

This all came back to me, today, when I heard on the news about a young man in the southern United States who was assisted by sales staff at a Target store to prepare for an important first job interview. Apparently, he’d gone into the store, dressed in a suit, looking for a clip-on tie, and left with a properly tied non-clip necktie and some helpful advice about handshakes and other important interview skills. This extraordinary customer service helped a nervous young man project a confident, professional look that may have aided in his being called back for a second interview.
 
I’m inspired by the selflessness of the Target employees but not actually surprised. I believe that similar random acts of kindness happen more often than we know, and that thoughtfulness is more systemic than most people think. These few examples of knowing how to tie a tie may not have meant the difference between life and death; however, the implications of someone not knowing could have been the difference between success and failure – or at least a tie.

I Love to Write!

I haven’t always loved the written word. As a child, in fact, I was a reluctant reader. At age 8, I received a Christmas anthology entitled Best in Children's Books from my aunt, a gift I looked upon as slightly less welcome than a pair of socks. In fact, this ungrateful child tossed the book aside and didn’t look at it again for several years, until on a boring, rainy afternoon, I finally flipped open the dreaded collection, and discovered: first, a lovely dated inscription; and second, a story entitled, Christmas in the Big Woods; and I was hooked!

I read the whole book, cover to cover, and the Christmas in the Big Woods chapter from Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder over and over again. At the urging of my parents, I sought out the school librarian to see if Laura Ingalls Wilder had written anything else and was delighted to discover her to be the author of an entire series of books. No longer a reluctant reader, I read the Little House books from the library until the librarian despaired I would never graduate to anything else; but, I did.

Required school reading, including: The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare, The Chrysalids by John Wyndham and The Wars by Timothy Findley expanded my love of reading and of words and ideas. A first year university English course forced me to learn to write essays, for which I discovered I had a talent.

Out of school, I discovered Mary Cook, author of One for Sorrow, Two for Joy and Robert Fulghum who wrote All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, collections of short stories that inspired me to begin penning short stories of my own. Imagine my surprise when a short humourous anecdote sent to Reader’s Digest resulted in payment for its publication, and republication a few years later.

While earning a Writing for Publication community college certificate with Tom Torrance, a talented and inspiring local writer and poet, I gained the courage to send more samples of my writing to various publications, occasionally being published. Winning 1st prize in the 2004 Clinton Cowboy Poetry Contest is a direct result of my studies with Tom.

Around this same time, I was accepted as a member of the Hamilton Spectator Community Editorial Board, which allowed me to write a 700 word article for my local newspaper every six to seven weeks over an 18 month term. I delighted in writing about everyday events that inspire recognition, ordinary people who do extraordinary things or make unexpected contributions, and sharing personal experiences that illustrate my views on community and world events. While this opportunity was relatively short-lived, it was an amazing time for me in that I found my individual voice and signature writing style, which resonated with readers and gave me confidence in my writing ability.

Through all this I’ve discovered that I love to write! A one-time reluctant reader has learned to love the written word, and I hope to continue my reading and writing journey. Specifically, I want to expand the skill and mental energy that goes into producing thought-provoking stories and rhyming and non-rhyming structural poetry; and, while my dream would be, to be published in a big way or on a regular basis; in the meantime, this revelation leads me to start a blog.

It is my hope to make regular postings here, at A Written Reflection, be they non-fiction articles, poetry, or personal musings on any number of topics. I may even, from time to time, post some of my previously published pieces or unpublished personal favourites. Only time will tell. All that really matters, I suppose, is that I continue to write what I love, and that hopefully you’ll enjoy reading what I write. Fingers crossed!