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…

Happy Sunday, Reader I was staring at my phone in disbelief on June 3rd. “I think my credit card got hacked,” I said. Sarah looked up from the box she was unpacking. “What? Are you sure?” I didn’t look up. “There’s a $512 charge from 20 minutes ago, which definitely wasn’t me.” “What is it?” she asked. “I don’t know!” I snapped, sitting on the couch, still in the middle of the living room. I squinted at my phone screen, thumbs tapping for the answer. I found it. “Someone ordered patio…

Happy Sunday, Reader “We got it,” she said. Sarah put down her phone and looked up at me with bright eyes. I could feel a wave of relief wash over me. After weeks of searching, applying, and hoping, we finally had a new place. It wasn’t easy. The uncertainty, the disappointment, and the stress wasn’t fun. A month ago, we were sitting on the couch, processing the news that we’d have to move again. Now, as we sat on that same couch, letting the good news sink in, I could feel the excitement…