Middle Age
You can dress me up
There was an interesting op-ed in the Globe and Mail this weekend by Elizabeth Renzetti about dress codes in schools. Specifically, dress codes for girls because it seems that girls are the only sex that warrants dress codes. And this is 2018. Oh, where are you women’s liberation when we need you! My experience with
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Cat-napped
I don’t know why I obsess so much about putting my cats’ food in a clean bowl. Anyone who has an up close and personal relationship with cats knows they like to put on a show about being clean, but in fact they are slobs. For example, the first thing Henry does when he is
Now I lay me down to sleep
Dorm rooms are built for function over form, kind of like conference room chairs are built for stacking not sitting. Dorm rooms are not interested in your enjoyment of anything. You are not here for aesthetics, you are here to wallow in the austerity that breeds great work. Or at least that’s what I tell
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And they’re off!
The Woodbine Racetrack used to be sort of on the outskirts of the city but is now warmly embraced by suburban sprawl to the north and east. On the west, it snuggles up against YYZ, with a fine view of the undercarriage of at least 50% of the planes landing on any given day between
100 Mile Diet
I am sorry to report that I am harbouring both a serial killer and a zombie. His name is Dennis. I am not trying to blame the victims here, but I do not know how a fifteen pound, eleven-year-old cat can catch so many chipmunks. Clearly either the message about a feline Jack the Ripper
Is this the real life? Is it just fantasy…
Spring has slammed into summer like a renegade shopping cart in a crowded parking lot. The leaves are already dark-green chlorophyll buffets for tiny caterpillars with an indeterminant place on the food chain. In the coniferous corner, this year is turning out to be a bumper crop for fir babies. Every variety of evergreen is
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The rise and fall of Barbie
No female childhood in the 1960s was complete without a Barbie or three. In the beginning, there was only one version, with long dark hair in a permanent ponytail. Of course, the permanence of the pony tail was not initially evident. This feature was discovered when Carol, who lived next door, decided to style Barbie’s
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Write on
I can never find a pen when I need one. And when I do locate the stash of pens in the back of the junk drawer none of them works (although technically they still all work as advertisements for the companies that paid for them). Back when pens were a business accessory, everyone had a