Happy Sunday, We walked along the crowd divider all the way down to the edge of the pier. The divider stops short, and two lines merge into one throng of 15 people. The boat off the island holds nine. The first boat sputters in, but not to our spot on the dock. Twelve feet away, they rope off. Two people hop off. The boat peels away, and the throng looks on. The second boat pulls up a minute later. The boatman steps off wearing Blundstone boots and a navy blue fleece vest. I think his name…

Happy Sunday Reader, What started as casual Friday afternoon beers took a turn when I ended up in a jail cell. The only light shining in the cell was red. It was hard to see anything. But I could feel the handcuff on my wrist. And I could hear frantic, familiar voices coming close by. Three weak flashlight beams cut through crimson. Across the room, another Scott sat chained to a chair. D&D were shouting from the next cell. Sarah pulled my wrist with hers to find the first lock. The red clock…

Happy Sunday Reader, I’m writing sat next to a bay window. The sky is white gray. I can see three pumpkins zigzagged on four steps down to a faded red stone path edging along still-green grass peppered with crunchy dead yellow leaves. On the right, a tree stretches twenty feet high, branches still full of red berry bunches. I’m in Edmonton, two blocks south of the North Saskatchewan River, sitting in a tall chair in a mini home. I’m squinting out the window, looking for inspiration in the…

Happy Sunday Reader! I dragged my desk across the carpet to face the blank wall to the west. I pulled three cords and four cables from their sources to plug them all back the same way seven feet away. The sun was shining through the window from the south on a Sunday, early afternoon. I crawled out from under the desk, plugs plugged, and power restored. The room felt different already. It was the same room, same desk, same me – and yet, not quite. Funny how something as trivial as shuffling…

Happy Sunday Reader, It’s a blessing and a curse to get back into reading Stephen King books. A blessing because it’s better than scrolling on my phone or watching TV. A curse because it’s too tempting to read when I could/should/would be doing other things. Especially when the other things require me to think and create. I’ve travelled far and wide through pages filled with words weaved together into different worlds. I find comfort in those worlds. They go somewhere. You just flip the…

Happy Sunday, Smoke rolls out as I lift the BBQ lid left-handed. The oversized flipper still feels awkward in my right hand, but I gotta do something. I hear spitting flames and taste char before I see what I’m smelling. Two salmon fillets, once beautifully marinated, now tragically overcooked. “Yikes,” I said out loud to no one. 😬 I step back. The grill is hot, and so am I. I’ve burned steak, chicken, sausages, and now, salmon. (Not like crispy burnt, but burnt enough, you know?) I feel…