Category Archives: stories and mutterings

Back to the Laundry Room…

…it’s another beautiful day in the laundry room…the sun is shining warmly, the machines are humming, people are chatting. It’s very much a meeting place, which is why Frankie comes here often ( and, like me, he comes to see if there are any new books).

Sometimes, I run into him in the hallways, but in the ┬álaundry room there’s always time to talk. We talk about wars Canada has been involved in, politics, news in the building…

Today, he told me the following joke:

Grandson: “Grandpa, can you say ‘ribbit’?”
Grandpa: “Why?”
Grandson: “Grandma said that after you croak she’ll take us to Disneyland.”
Well, I thought it was funny.

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The Thing About Photos…

As I’ve observed other blogs, it has occurred to me that this blog is destined to suffer from a lack of super-awesome photos:

  1. it’s a book blog
  2. I hardly ever have an opportunity to get out

So, I’ve decided to commit myself to, once in a blue moon, when I get my hands on some original, super-awesome (or even just moderately awesome or somewhat cool) photos, posting them here for no apparent reason at all. THAT should spruce things up. ­čÖé

In the meantime, here are pictures of a goose and a squirrel (aaaawsommme!) that I took with my wimpy camera during a walk down the block.

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I have a follower! Thank you, Rosamond Bain. Wooohoo!

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And, so, it was that I moved to a building on the outskirts of Westboro…

…Like many condo buildings, it has a library; a little one, in the corner of the laundry room. This corner is rather special to me, simply because it has books and books have always had a magnetic effect on me….

…Since before I could read, books were ┬ámy refuge; libraries and bookstores, my places of worship. Visiting them was an emotional and multi-sensory experience….ahh, the loftiness of my favourite childhood bookstores; the creak in their wooden floors; the hushed atmosphere; just being surrounded by such vast stores of knowledge and possibilities! My grandmother’s permission to handle a book was a gateway to experiencing something sacred….

…The library in the laundry room became especially special when I retired thanks to a chronic illness. Going to a full-sized library has often not been an option. But, going downstairs to see if there were any new contributions often is. ┬áAnd, so, I began to read….

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