A little over a century ago, the First World War came to a close. Each year since Canadians, along with people in other Commonwealth countries, gather to remember, but now after so many decades what about the men of The Great War do we actually know? While I set out to review the service records of local men killed in World War One I came across a name that stood out among the rest, not for who he was but for the regiment, he served and his age when he deployed.

The cabin appeared abandoned, but after watching the building for a quarter of the day, he still was not sure. No smoke from the chimney, no vehicles, no muddy boots outside the door. These days that was not unusual, those who remain are masters of concealment.

The sun would set in a couple of hours and it was decision time.

The far too light pack and agonizing empty stomach decided for him. Hunger wasn’t enough, the threat of what darkness brings is what pushed him to start moving.

Rising from the ground he held the pistol grip of the rifle…

My wife for far too many years endured shiftwork as a registered nurse. As she had our children, she took on an increasing volume of night shifts which helped with arranging childcare.

Pulling back to back night shifts while pregnant, and chasing after a very active three-year-old, is enough to make anyone value slipping into a perfectly made bed. These days, her shifts often see her returning home well past midnight to be up at seven to shepherd the kids to school.

What I think it comes down to is that the road to slumber is paved with pillows, a…

History is a potpourri of famous one-liners, far too many to list here, but there is little doubt that some of the greatest episodes of badassery come from single-word answers given to very serious ultimatums.

When I sat down to write this, two examples jumped out and demanded to be recognized. A quick explanation and description are not enough to understand why these two words carry such weight as to affect the course of history. …

I’m a little over a month away from forty. The problem is that my male brain still thinks that I’m twenty. My body, on the other hand, is not afraid to remind me of how old it is.

This story is not some rant about how getting old sucks, and I’m not going to lament the grinding gears of time as I speed headlong into the brick wall of a mid-life crisis. I’ve never been one for complaints.

Truth be told, the steady march of the years doesn't concern me, and I’d rather be approaching forty than twenty. I have…

I’m sick and tired of the complaints about how bad 2020 was because they are often coming from those who sat at home watching Netflix, drinking far too much, and spending way too much time in their own echo chambers. Then there are the people who whine about wearing masks, lockdowns, protocols, or who try to seek out every possible loophole to selfishly carry on however they wish.

Don’t get me started on the weak-minded anti-maskers gullible enough to believe that a global pandemic, whose death toll is fast approaching two million souls, is fake or somehow a government conspiracy.

…

The tale of How The Grinch Stole Christmas has been woven into the fabric of western culture to such a degree, that I need not bore you with the plot of Mr. Grinch’s yuletide heist. We know that the Grinch is our antagonist in this tale but, there is a character who plays a pivotal role in the narrative and is the catalyst for the garlic souled Grinch’s eleventh-hour epiphany.

Who is the hero of this classic tale? Who is it that the Whos owe a debt of gratitude for saving Christmas? Is it Cindy-Lou Who?

No, it is not…

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrea, a Canadian physician, penned the emblematic war poem ‘In Flanders Fields’ on the 3rd of May, 1915. He wrote it in the back of a field ambulance a day after the funeral of his friend Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, a funeral that he presided over. This poem was the genesis of the practice of wearing remembrance poppies in Commonwealth Countries and has embedded itself in Canadian culture. For over a century ‘In Flanders Feilds’ has been tethered to the narrative of the First World War and has come to be recited every Eleventh of November.

Since I…