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Showing posts from February, 2014

Back story - Novel

 "I wish I was in heaven...then at least then I could watch over my sister and her little girl," Cassie wrote. No one knew her pain, nor did they ever ask. She was too young to understand. Only the lined pages of her journal listened to her. Page after page she poured her little heart out as she watched her troubled sister fall apart. Her sister was being abused by her husband. He never allowed her to visit the family. And on the odd occasion when she had (with him of course), it was brief and she was never able to do so freely. Sometimes she had bruises. Other times scratches and scars on her wrists from her own attempts at numbing her reality. Other times, it appeared as if she hadn't slept or showered in weeks. Her mangy brown hair hung over her palish sullen face. Cassie could see the shame, the self-doubt and fear in her sisters eyes. Cassie may have been young, but the innocence of a child can see through many masks a person may wear. "I miss my siste

Some things never change

It's 9 p.m. and here I sit on my bed with a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough (I shouldn't be eating anything past supper), and self-reflecting. (In other words, making myself feel sorry for myself.) I am reading through my old diaries...  again. And 15 years ago, I was doing this very same thing. Except it was with a bowl of President's Choice chocolate fudge crackle ice cream and with a pen and paper (not my laptop). And I didn't have a flashing blue light from my Smartphone distracting me as I wrote. It is March 10, 1998 and I write: As the snow swirls around  I gaze upon the beaming sun My mind wanders upon thoughts Thoughts I've never ventured and some I may never want to Others very deep and misunderstanding I only feel challenged as to what to do next No tears are shed from serious, sad thoughts Nor smiles for grateful elations I will wait and wait to feel something...anything  I love how my entries are riddled with poetry. And even th

My life in books

A random excerpt:  July 5, 1997 Dear Shawn (yes I have names for my diaries) "Here I sit on a hard cement block, but it is the most beautiful place in the world right now as I write in my diary. I am on the beach, the sun is setting and the waves are gently rolling in. Maybe it's the place, or m aybe it's just being away from the everyday life back home, but I feel at peace here. Last night I fell asleep so fast. It was the best sleep I have had in a long time, despite it being in a cabin with 6 other girls and God only knows how many creepy crawlies. The night was silent. The sky was black. The only sound was the calming rhythm of the waves along the Lake Erie shoreline. It was there that I slipped away." After that entry I found several poems written in a foreign handwriting. Not mine, but that of Geoff Hunt, a counsellor at Camp Oneida. (I am glad he signed his name there because I never would have known that) He wrote: If I knew what I want, Surel

Help for teen moms hard to find

UPDATE ADDED Help for teen moms hard to find   I was happy to see this article about a woman taking the initiative to break the cycle of teen pregnancy. ( http://www.woodstocksentinelreview.com/2013/04/26/woodstock-nurse-aims-to-aid-teen-moms ) For as long as I've lived in Woodstock, I have heard about and seen all the teen moms pushing their babies in strollers down Dundas Street. (Don't tell me you haven't ... it goes along with all the shirtless men in Market Square as soon as temperature rise).   It's not a phenomenon in the Friendly City (although maybe our teens are getting a bit too friendly too soon here), but teen moms (parents) are everywhere. But what I discovered recently in my quest to help a young mom suffering from depression, is that her options for help are limited. She is too old for youth programs (19), but still very much a child. With no job, a one-year-old at home, and only a high school education, she feels stuck, isolated, alone a

What did Health Canada expect?

What did Health Canada expect? A few bad apples in the friendly city of Woodstock are giving a bad name to legitimate medicinal marjuana grow-ops after an explosion detroyed a home known to have a licence to produce pot. Four people have been charged with drug offences following the fire on Alberta Ave last weekend. While still unconfirmed, the house was a legal grow-op. (I believe authorities are withholding this fact to use as evidence in the case.) http://www.woodstocksentinelreview.com/2014/02/13/four-arrested-in-connection-with-woodstock-house-fire Under the licence to grow marijuana for medicinal puposes: "A person is eligible to be issued a designated-person production licence only if the person is an individual who ordinarily resides in Canada and who ( a ) has reached 18 years of age; and ( b ) has not been found guilty, as as adult, within the 10 years preceding the application , of (i) a designated drug offence, or (ii) an offence committed outside C