Posted on May 2, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

OK. A show of hands. How many of you have helped your children move more than once? More than 5 times? 10? More than 10? If you are in this last category, you need immediate help or a career change!

This is definitely a phenomenon of the baby boomers. We will do everything in our power to assist our offspring reach independence. Is begging too strong a word?

I am putting the finishing touches on a story about moving. It’s bad enough that some of us have moved several times ourselves, let alone the countless moves of our children… and in some cases , our children’s friends. I don’t remember reading this chapter in the parent’s manual.

Here is your opportunity. Once I post this story ( hopefully tomorrow ), I want to be deluged with your moving stories. I have some good ones so you’re going to have to dig deep to top them. I breathlessly await your responses. I don’t know if this is an incentive or disincentive, but the best story gets a loaf of my home made Red River cereal bread. If you are my regular reader from Taiwan, I will put in some additives before shipping!

I have two other stories ready to go but simply have to get this one off my chest!

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Posted on May 1, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Real men don’t eat quiche.  But they do make their own dough.  No, not that kind of dough.  I’m talking dough that turns into real, home-made bread.   It is Saturday morning.  My beleaguered wife is a tax preparer and while she slaves away seven days a week during the initial rush, I take over the domestic chores.  The first load of laundry is on the go.  Ditto for the spaghetti sauce.  Love letting it sit all day in the slow cooker.  And just last week I dusted off an old recipe and have decided to make my own bread.

I flick on the local radio station just as I am kneading the bread for the first time.  On any given Saturday you will get either Joe or Gerard as your host.  These guys have been at the helm since around the time of Adam and Eve.  And they are old pros at their craft.  I don’t know their ages for sure but I’m guessing they are my vintage because they happen to play the music that I grew up with.  As I wait for the bread to rise, I grab a coffee and the New York Times crossword puzzle and settle in, with “Take it to the Limit” by The Eagles playing in the background.

If you want to feel the rhythm of a small town, turn on the radio on a Saturday morning while you’re doing your chores.  It is a pleasant mixture of music, news, local events and announcements.  Nowhere else but in small town Canada will you hear that bingo has been cancelled due to a death in the community.  They must sell a lot of cars on a Saturday because invariably there’s a live feed from one of the car dealerships.  And then I hear the Dave Clark 5 pounding out the lyrics to “Glad All Over”.

No Saturday would be complete without the buy and sell segment.   And when spring rolls around, my wife and her ilk wait breathlessly to hear about the yard sales.  Only in a small town would you get the “lost dogs” report.  Spencer Davis belts out “Gimme Some Lovin’”.

Is the entire globe fixated on weather?   Back when I was growing up, weather just happened.  You knew there was bad weather by looking out your window.  Nowadays, it appears to be an obsession.   And despite all of the sophisticated weather tracking devices, my arthritic knee is the best gauge of all.  Just after the umpteenth weather report, the Beach Boys ramp things up with “Help Me Rhonda”.

One thing is absolutely certain on a Saturday morning.  You’re not likely to hear any rap music.  Joe and Gerard just don’t seem to be rapper kind of guys.

As I’m taking the bread out of the oven, Anne Murray is crooning that old favorite “You Needed Me”.   I look at the bread and the bread stares back at me as if to say “You kneaded me”.  Is there anything better than warm bread just out of the oven?

Yes.  Joe and Gerard.  Like an old pair of slippers; familiar and comfortable.

Posted on April 29, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

We just returned home from a busy weekend in Halifax to share in the joy of the birth of out third grandchild, Leah Rose. Mother, father and daughter are all doing well.

I have several stories just about ready to go. One is about listening to the local radio station on Saturdays while doing chores. There’s nothing more interesting than to listen to the heartbeat of small town Canada through the airwaves, especially on a Saturday.

And even though it’s not hunting season, I heard a story while having a trim the other day at the barber shop that is worthy of sharing.

Have a good week. Looks like it’s going to be sunny and warmer.