I really don't know much about her. I know that she wore a purple hoody and blue jeans. I know that the majority of her hair was not the colour of the roots, so she must not be too fond of her hair's original colour. I know that she is a mother for her curly-headed … Continue reading On Knowing: Part Two
There was something heady about roaming rows of tomes full of ancient legislature--red-bound books that boasted debates from the House of Commons and forest green, gilt-bound ones that contained government discussions of Canada, even before it was a nation. The shelves held, too, pamphlets of official reports to this or that Member of Parliament standing … Continue reading On Knowing: Part One
How Job, Dorthy Sayers, Jeremiah, and I are all but fragments of One.
In second grade, my teacher read us a novel called Snow Treasure. In it the children of a small town that has been invaded by the Nazis pile the town's treasure of gold bullion on their sleds, ride their sleds down the hill toward the shore past the Nazi barracks, and bury the gold under comical snowman. … Continue reading The Real Treasure in the Snow
The farther I fall the more I grow. I look like lace, but inside I'm dirt. I'm soft as a feather, yet colder than stone. I'm seen more in multitude than alone. And just in case it's not obvious enough. The answer is a compound word.
God spoke oceans, lady slippers, galaxies, amoebas, and platypuses into existence with simple generalized words. “Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place.” “Let the earth bring forth grass.” “Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven.” “Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life.” … Continue reading Dusty Hands
Why imperfect cakes are still delicious.