WHERE DID ALL THIS SNOW COME FROM?

Hello everyone, everywhere,

Well, this week has been quite entertaining! I feel very bad for our American friends, and I feel bad for us. Eastern Canada got nailed and Alberta just got four inches of snow in one day. It’s been interesting.

Anyways, I had a really bad fall last Monday when I was coming to see Michelle. I went flying on the ice. I flew up in the air and came down on my side. I didn’t feel any breaks but I was in a lot of pain so I knew I’d really hurt myself. It’s been a week now and I’m still having trouble. It’s harder to bounce back when you get older, and I’ve got to get back on those drums. Wednesday I’ll be back to practice on my own. I’ll see Alisa and that will be great. She’ll get me back in shape.

I’d like to say a big hello to Tommy from our band and let him know that we’re thinking about him and hope he’s feeling better. Thank goodness we’re all going to be back at it next week.

I like this week’s story. It’s a gentle story, and when I wrote it, it made me laugh. I only wrote the title and I thought I’d just leave it and come back to it, but I just kept writing and I wrote the whole thing. I couldn’t stop until it was done. And I was laughing. I give a story three proofreads and if I like it, I bring it to Michelle. If she likes it, she fixes it. And then you get it. And it’s all good.

So for now, I’ll bid you all adieu. (That’s good-bye in French in case you’re not sure). We’ll get rid of the snow, I’ll mend, and we’ll all just get on with it. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. Tonight, with a smile on my face, I present…

CHERISH THE MOMENT, ETHEL

Ladies having tea

Meet Ethel Brimmer. She doesn’t remember everything, but her stories, she remembers. Well,  in  her own way. Ethel Brimmer is 86 years old. She is in her second century, and that pleases her just fine. Bragging rights, don’t you know. Ethel is a little thing. White hair, glasses. And if you are talking to her, depending on how he’s sitting, she can’t hear you very well.

Ethel has only one escape a day: tea with the girls. And tea must be served with stories. Every afternoon, before their shows come on, these women get together and discuss things over tea. There is Daisy Swann, 83, five foot two, and also hard of hearing. And Lorna Cheaks. Eighty, five feet five, tall for a lady of her age, the other two would say.

They always go to Daisy’s. She doesn’t walk too well. All three have slight (and I mean slight) dementia (if you asked). As always, Ethel got the ball rolling (so to speak).  Ethel leaned in to the table, sipped her tea, and started her story.

We grew up on Brimmer Mountain. There were eight or nine of us. And my favourite time was night when all of us kids would to our rooms for bed. Our parents were in their beds too. Gosh, it would be nine p.m. Lights out! And then we would all be saying good night.

“Good night Dick-boy! Good night Ephram! Good night Sally Jean, George Bob, Rollinpinronny, Prescott, and Chin!” Then they would all say, “Good night Heather!” And we would all go to sleep.

The ladies looked up at Ethel. Even with their foggy recollections, they both knew Ethel had told them the end of that old show The Waltons. And they were almost positive that those weren’t their names. In the end, though, they didn’t care. They loved Ethel. And she did tell it well.

So, in the long scheme of things, Ethel Brimmer cherished the moment. Moments are only what they are. Guard yours well. That’s all.

(NEVER EVER GIVE UP).

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By jamesghutcheson

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