Speak the Wild Words

Use your words to conjure the more beautiful world your heart knows is possible. Her name was Brooke. It had been a name chosen carefully for her by her father, so when she read that the word “brook” was being struck from the dictionary, along with a host of other words “redundantly” featuring nature, it…

The Language Your Body Speaks

Befriending your self starts with making small talk with your body My father was a pharmacist, my mother a nurse. In my household, we took stale-dated medicine (because it was still good even if it was illegal for him to sell so why waste it) and we were never indulged a day off school unless…

Garlic Planting as Prayer

The fall garlic planting mission has always been accompanied by a prayer, of sorts. An atheistic kind, largely faithless: “Okay then, do your thing.” I’d brush my hands clean of the moist black soil and feel again the improbability of all this growing business – stick clove in soil, anticipate its budding five or six…

Make friends with maybe

Have you given any of your attention to the warnings being put out at senior levels of government and public health? What I hear reverberating through my news feed is this: The fall could be wickedly challenging, courtesy COVID-19. I don’t want to say “Brace for it” – because I don’t think that feeling of…

What Women Want

When I learned that a lot of women’s outdoor and sports apparel was built first for men, than adapted ie applying the “pink it and shrink it” design brief, I suddenly understood that it wasn’t me. It wasn’t that there was something wrong with my body. It wasn’t that I would be a better biker/skier/climber/runner…

Run towards hope

Maude Cyr will run 110 km September 26 to raise funds for the Howe Sound Women’s Centre to address domestic violence When Maude Cyr was a girl, growing up in Rimouski, Québec, a friend of hers experienced domestic abuse. She confided in Cyr. When Cyr took this information to her parents, her parents did what…

Picklepalooza: preserving high summer for my Future Self

It’s not really cost-effective, this pickling and preserving business, I realize, as I empty another $20 bottle of Bragg’s apple cider vinegar into a pot. My husband keeps checking in, nervously asking “Are you having fun?” because these evenings are cutting into my Netflix/book-reading time, and I tend to be an angry-and resentful-if-you-aren’t-also-contributing house-cleaner. But…

How to Tell Your Husband You’re a Witch

Originally posted on Longreads:
Lisa Richardson | Longreads | April 2020 | 15 minutes (4,084 words) On a Friday afternoon, pre-COVID-19, my husband dropped some ice-cubes into glasses, ready to make us screwdrivers and cheers to surviving another week of working/parenting/wondering where the hell the years were going, only, the vodka bottle was empty. “Oh…