{A new series here at Mother Sugar, called The Salon: What You Know For Sure, inspired this post. As I began drafting my contribution to the collection of comments (and commenters vying for some of Bitter en Zoet’s magical chocolate), … Continue reading
A few times this week, I’ve been struck with this little shiver. Okay, maybe not a shiver, maybe more like a flutter. It happened when I read this blog, and then this one, and this one and this one too. … Continue reading
When I was seventeen I asked my grandfather to help me figure out my university major. Theatre, history, politics, basket weaving? He told me the question was irrelevant. It doesn’t matter what you study, it only matters how it will be used. How will you give back what you learn to the world? Continue reading
The sales clerk slid my groceries over the scanner. I stared absently at the magazine covers: ‘Stars without Make-up’, ‘Guess Whose Cellulite’, ‘Beach Ready Bikini Bodies.’ ‘Would you like a hand out with your groceries, Miss?’ That one line snapped … Continue reading
I have gradually and increasingly noticed in my adult self a rather repressed, quiet but fervent American patriot. I write this tentatively, because the idea of being a ‘patriot’ in the (as they say) post-9-11 United States has certain political … Continue reading
Before the days of Pinterest and well, let’s be honest, internet, I used to scrapbook about the person I’d be when I grew up and what I’d wear and buy and bake, and where I’d live. Based on the clippings, … Continue reading
If you like children so much, why don’t you have any of your own? This was the tweet sent by a woman in response to a female politician’s proposal for a new child benefit last week in Alberta, my home … Continue reading
When I was eighteen, and in University for the first time, I vividly remember slouching in the back of a lecture hall, perching my Doc Marten boots on the back of the seat in front of me, staring at the “mature students” sitting at the front of the class, and thinking, “What losers. That will never be me”. What I can’t get over now is not only how sure I was, but also how clearly wrong I was. Continue reading
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