5th February 2018

Local buildings, no longer there

The sump pump has seen a lot of use today. At an estimate, I’m getting a well-empty every two hours. That’s good. Now if the freezing temperatures can kick in after the water stops running, I’ll mark it up as a win. Otherwise, I’m going to have to move to Plan B, which involves me and a yellow bucket. The snow is gone, pretty much. However, there’s more on the way, because this is Canada.

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posted in history | 0 Comments | 264 words

30th January 2018

The big move

My view of life has been one that puts location before all other aspects. Where do you live? In my case, I have a list.

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posted in history | 0 Comments | 278 words

29th January 2018

Hit pause

I think I’ll hit the pause control after this episode. After all, with the first decade coming to a close, and our idyllic Island existence about to take a shift to a new map, the timing is right. But first, some closure.

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26th January 2018

Thoroughly modern

After spending the winter in the city, our new home was finally ready. Correction: almost ready. The house was built before WW1, but the kitchen required serious renovations. Putting in cupboards, actually. I am unsure what previous tenants had done, but there we were, with the fresh odours  of sawdust and paint as part of the package.

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25th January 2018

Repurposed drawers

Carrying along from yesterday, when we moved to a new railway station. We were there for a couple of years, but my best memory was from the day that I set the chicks free.

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24th January 2018

Moving out and up

My first home was actually owned by my parents. They didn’t make that mistake again for another decade. You see, one of the perks of railway employment (for the fortunate ones) involved housing provided as part of the the “package”. The station agent would bid on a better job, based on seniority, and take whatever was offered. And so, by the time of my third birthday, we had moved. Down the line. Into the next village, which also came with a store big enough to sell tea by the box.

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23rd January 2018

Early images

The flood of memories continues. You have to accept that my first few years were not verbal, so if the recall seems simple… that’s the way it works. I was a handsome kid, based on a photograph that surfaced recently, and my clothes were in shades of grey. No, hold on, that’s because the photo was one of those snapshots that came out of the local photo developer’s  counter. We had a Kodak Brownie camera, and the colour film was expensive.

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22nd January 2018

The early days

Perhaps I should take a few moments and introduce myself. No need for a name; I’m much more a product of place. Places. In looking back, my childhood was devoted to changing addresses. That given, let’s go all the way back. To a time when there were no words.

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15th January 2018

A find from my childhood

Sixty years ago, the railroad was important. Here, at least. The tracks ran from tip to tip to tip, and trains meandered from vale through vale to vale (we have very few hills here). I was part of all that. And no locomotive seemed more ubiquitous (from my shortsighted perspective) than the GE 70-tonner.

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posted in history, photography, technology | 0 Comments | 258 words

31st December 2017

Closing the page on this yearbook

Look at the time! Better put my life on autopilot; ahead lies the year-end synopsis with Jean-René “Infoman” Dufort, followed by Bye-Bye.

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