Finally back in the writer’s chair after long weeks away. Have been searching for a work-around to the problem created by this frustrating D-Link router which won’t let me access the main computer from the laptop. So why not work from the office on the weekends? Well, cause the office is on the third floor, I’m arthritic, and want to be in the thick of what goes on in the house during the weekend, and…
It’s Sunday. A kitchen therapy day. I had a pork shoulder roast in the freezer, bone in, saddle attached, and thought I’d experiment with a fusion of eastern fragrances and tastes in a slow-roasted environment. pork shoulder roast The ingredients. olive oil bulb of whole fennel, stalks included, washed and sliced thickly red pepper, washed, seeded and cut into chunks whole bulb of garlic, peeled and minced; or frozen, pureed garlic scapes, about 2 tbsp….
I do have to wonder sometimes about the artistic and literary pundits of this country we call Canada and home. While I completely recognize the subjectivity of art and its appreciation, the jurors of this year’s Governor General’s Award I cannot help but feel have collectively been dropped on their heads, or have slick palms, or fail to recognize citizenship, or just plain didn’t read all the books on the short-list, or the biographies of…
I have filed the following complaint to the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario, and am making that complaint a matter of public record by posting it here on my blog. NB: This post has been edited from the original letter, omitting names of the physicians. re: ————————————————————————————– Overview I first saw Dr. ——- October 7, 2013 as a new patient. Although very pleasant, from the outset it was clear Dr. ——- was determined to recommend…
In remembrance.
The Luminaries by Eleanor CattonMy rating: 2 of 5 stars I’ve often said art is subjective. The Luminaries, by Eleanor Catton, is certainly a prime example of that adage. Winner of the Booker Prize for 2013, lauded, praised, esteemed by critics and readers alike, I was prepared for this literary whodunnit to amaze and delight. Unfortunately, for me, I felt like the child in the Emperor’s New Clothes fable, pointing at Catton’s naked majesty while…