Here’s to you, Miss Hutchinson

Here’s to you, Miss Hutchinson

As a kid who could hardly get her hands on enough library books, words meant the world to me. It wasn’t just the words I read. What people said out loud mattered, too. I was a sensitive type who withered over the cuts of cruel words, who swallowed words whole, and...
Dear baby-writer, don’t give up

Dear baby-writer, don’t give up

I like to joke that the only sign I was meant to be a writer was all that bad poetry I wrote when I was young. This phase seemed to peak in my teens. Hard emotions percolated up to the surface right after an ugly breakup or a bout of disillusionment over my...
Ode to a big-hearted husband

Ode to a big-hearted husband

When it comes to my health, I’ve relied on my good instincts first. This stubborn notion probably emerged shortly after birth, once I figured out my mom kept all the superpowers. I knew that any menace barrelling through her three daughters’ lives had to wheedle its...
A soccer mom’s lament

A soccer mom’s lament

Have you ever peered out your window one morning and thought the world got turned on its side while you were sleeping? You see familiar objects. But something’s shifted in the landscape and you’re not sure what. Like living inside a giant snow globe and waking up to...
Don’t call my dog dumb

Don’t call my dog dumb

What I remember first about these two women: they were in a hurry. My husband and I were out walking our dog, Fin, at our favourite off-leash beach and they tromped right on past us in the muted, early spring light, looking ahead with a sense of purpose.  Then...

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