All the Rage – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday-Friday Fictioneers Day, my peeps!  Today I have attempted a “Rochelle-esque” story.  Plus, it’s my photo and I swear, when Rochelle asked me for it, I knew exactly what I was going to do.  Well sorta-kinda exactly.  I also swear, I did NOT read her story first.

Should you like to attempt your own 100-word story based on my picture of the New-ish Montreal Symphony House, then click on the blue frog and add your link.  Easy-peasy.  If you want the official rules and regs, click on Rochelle’s name above….And THEN add your story 😉

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©Me, Myself and I

A “Rochelle-Style” Historical Fiction

100 words

All the Rage

Charlotte looked at the metal contraption warily.  “It looks heavy.”

“Oh contraire, Mademoiselle.  It is actually going to reduce the weight of the dress as you no longer need to wear so many petticoats.  Now turn around and lift your arms, s’il vous plaît.”

Charlotte did as Monsieur Milliet requested as he lifted his invention and placed it over her head.  He then tied a ribbon around her waist to hold it in place.  “Voilà!  Is is not magnifique?”

“Oui, Monsieur.  Let’s try it with my dress.  It would be scandalous to waltz about in just my petticoat and hoop!”

Originally created by Mr. R.C. Milliet

Story Time – Friday iFictioneers

It’s Thursday, so it’s Friday Fictioneers time – one day late or one day early, you choose!  It was the perfect day to clean out my garden (I’ve the scars to prove the roses resisted my efforts) so I forced myself to stay away from the computer.  This came to me as I soaked away my aches and pains.  Good thing I had my cell nearby to type out my rough draft!

So… Thank you Rochelle for both hosting and providing this second-hand photo (first for me, though).  Any of you want to join in, click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to.  Or, just click on the blue frog to read more wonderful stories!

Get the inLinkz Code

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word Count:  100

Genre:  Memoir with extras

Story Time

Though still light outside, Mama lit the oil lamps.

“Night falls so quickly,” she explained.

Turning to my grandmother, I begged, “Oh, Mémère, raconte-moi une de tes histoires. Je t’en prie!”*

“Chérie, you already know them all off by heart!” she laughed.

“Surely not all of them – please!”

She patted the seat beside her, beckoning me. I ran across the room and snuggled next to her warm, comforting body.

“Which one do you want tonight, ma ‘Grande Bardiche’?”

“Tell me one I’ve never heard before, like the one where, to help put food on the table, you were a bootlegger!

*Oh Granny, tell me one of your stories. I beg of you!

As for the ‘Grande Bardiche’ – my grandmother called me that and could (would?) not give me a proper explanation.  Thanks to the Google, I have found out this is some kind of pole weapon, which now makes sense as I once was a tall string bean of a girl…

Friday Fictioneers – Participating


Friday Fictioneers time already!  The weeks sure do fly.  Just so happens there will be lots of stories of war, heroes, Remembrance Day; as well there should.  I was going to resist, but I could not.  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers weekly and to J.Hardy Carroll for providing us with this thought-provoking photo.

Should you wish to add your two cents’ worth, please, click on the blue frog.  Should you simply want to enjoy reading fabulous 100-word stories from excellent writers, click on the blue frog!

©J Hardy Carroll

Word Count – 100


Today marks Remembrance Day or Veterans Day, depending on where you live.

All over social media are commemorations of loved ones who’ve participated in one war or another.

I feel so strange that there is not one member of my family, on either side, to my knowledge, who has served in the military and/or given up their life for my country.

Though I’ve graves to visit, none are for this type of hero.

Yet I wear the poppy.  And I volunteer at my boys’ school where we celebrate veterans.

“Lest we forget.” Words repeated the world over, as we should.


Walktober – Old Boucherville, A Second Look


Robin, over at Breezes at Dawn, celebrates October with a Walktober.  Lucky for me, she decided to extend the dates so that I and a few others could join in.  I was positive I’d be able to write my post by October 25, the official deadline, but no, I have been living in my kitchen.  Got a few busy days ahead of me so I figured it’s now or never!

Here’s where I admit to being even later than planned but lucky enough to be included on this November 2nd post!!

I truly enjoy walking around, with my ever-present, dog, Zeke, my hometown of Boucherville, a suburb of Montreal with a population of a little less than 41,000.  I’ve lived here my whole life (minus about five years when I foolishly left) and have trouble believing I’d ever live anywhere else.  Well, except Tuscany, as I keep threatening my family.  But that’s a whole ‘nother story!


Most days will find me walking about Boucherville, either towards “my” river, or to “Teletubbie Park”, or to the industrial park, or to the Parc des Coutances, way over on the other side where, if I’m lucky and early enough, I run into the ladies and their dogs and can stand around chitchatting whilst the dogs chase each other.  This is an unofficial dog park to us and only when the cranky old broad comes by do we re-leash the dogs!

Last year I actually did a post on my walk in Old Boucherville and was going to choose another of my walks or a mish-mash of the ones done in October, but by the time I had sorted the pictures, I realised that Old Boucherville would win again!

This particular walk was actually on October 1st, which explains the lack of fall foliage colours!  All walks start from my front stoop…. The roses were still blooming beautifully and I just had to snap one more!


As I turned the corner, I was struck by one single leaf in a bush that had decided to stand out.


Walking along Industrial Boulevard, there were just a few trees showing off.


By the end of the boulevard, I decided to walk down to the special pathway that brings me directly into Old Boucherville and was pleasantly surprised by a family of Canada Geese.


Unfortunately, Zeke also noticed them and decided he would like to join them.  They disagreed with the idea and hightailed it down the stream!


Before arriving at Louis-H. Lafontaine’s house (if you want to learn more about that, click here), there are lovely trees aligning the stream.  This one in particular called me.

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Couldn’t resist Zeke as he posed so prettily in the old Fort ruins.

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We decided to cross Marie-Victorin Blvd. and walk along the St. Lawrence River’s edge and were treated to a few mallards swimming by.

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I got all excited because I thought I saw an eagle!  Thanks my Facebook friends for setting me straight by pointing out it was not a majestic eagle but a huge turkey vulture!  It was teasing me by swooping around and around… I was impressed, anyway…

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A little further on, there seemed to be a party going on in which the seagull was a little shy in joining the ducks…


Crossing back over, I noticed two lovely old houses that I had never paid attention to, and each had a plaque explaining their original inhabitants.

The first one, called La Chaumière was built around 1742, as a dependent to the Seigneurial Manor.  At the end of the 19th century, it was transformed into a summer residence and it was at the time that the “oeil de boeuf” (small round window) was created.

The Seigneurial Manor was built around 1740 for the third Seigneur (Lord), François-Pierre Boucher of Boucherville, descendants of the founder, Pierre Boucher.

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I foolishly cut across at this point, on my return home and did not get close to the grand church.  How, oh how, did I think I could do a walk in Old Boucherville, skipping a whole section?

Guess I’ll just have to go back and continue!

I hope you have enjoyed my walk around a section of Old Boucherville.






Margaret and Me

Friends.  There are all kinds, aren’t there? Some were your neighbours as kids; some you met in elementary school/high school/college/university; some through various jobs; some at the gym because they have daycare and you can work out (or yack in a corner, pretending to work out); through activities; etc.  Some you keep forever; some for a little bit; some you lose and never see again and others you lose and re-find.

And then there are the friends that you meet in the oddest places, in the most unexpected circumstances.  You probably would never have really ended up as friends because you did not run in the same circles but now, because of what you are both going through, you connect.  That would be Margaret and me.

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You see, Austin was born May 25, 1996, and 10:15 pm.  By 2:30 a.m., the transport team came to pick him up to bring him to the Montreal Children’s Hospital.  Joanne was born on June 16, 1996 and during the night of the 17th to the 18th, she was medevaced from Pangnirtung, Nunavut, to the Montreal Children’s Hospital.  What a place to make a friend!

Both our babies had heart issues.  Until they were big and strong enough for major surgery, each had temporary measures:  Austin had a shunt put in at 10 days old; Joanne a pacemaker at four weeks old.  Both spent their first two months on the Ninth floor.

Our babies were not set up next to each other in 9C (the NICU) but I could hear Margaret singing to Joanne in Inuktitut.  It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard amidst all of the various hums and beeps and blips.  Through the weeks, we would meet up, chit chat, go downstairs for breaks and just come and go.  I felt so bad for Margaret as she was here in Montreal, alone, while her husband and three-year old daughter, Natasha, were up in Nunavut.  I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for her to have to deal with all of this by herself.  I had Mick and my family so I sort of took her under my wing. We didn’t know it was the beginning of something special.

When the babies “graduated” (Margaret reminded me that Mick used this term!) to 9C2 which was across the hall from 9C (Here the babies are healthy enough for there to be three babies to one nurse; whereas 9C was two to one; and 9D (ICU) was one to one) we started hanging out together even more.  This was a great sign to find ourselves in this unit.  We could hold our babies at will.

On the other side was quite the situation:  you could, if all was OK, hold your babies but quite the organisation was required.  As they were hooked up to meds and respirators and whatnot, the nurses settled you into a chair, gave you your baby and then taped the respirator tube to your shoulder, Like this:

Polaroid taken by nurse in NICU

Tubes and all

Yep, 9C2, or Club Med was a stepping stone to going home!

We were released in July ’96 and Joanne and Margaret in August ’96.  Back to Pang for them and now we each had to learn how to live outside the hospital walls.

We kept in touch and every time Joanne had an appointment, down they would come and stay in Baffin House (a place for the Inuit to stay when they had hospital visits in Montreal) and I would go get them to spend some time with us.  First time they came for an appointment was November ’96.

November 96 Visit



Then on January 17th, 1997, we lost Austin.  When I called Margaret to let her know, she started to sob and said it was like losing one of her own family members.  She said everyone in her community mourned for us.  I was extremely touched.

Life goes on and we would get to see the whole family this time in July 1997.  Finally, we got to meet Andrew and Natasha!  We ended up bringing them over for a supper of corn on the cob (Margaret insists to this day that she has never eaten so many ears!) and

It would be another six months before Joanne’s next appointment and this time, I suggested (insisted) that Margaret and Joanne stay at our house instead of Baffin House.  Of course she tried to resist but I was having none of it.  Thank goodness this was before the ice storm!

Margaret & Joanne Jan 98

Winter visit


Sadly, the Government decided that from now on, many of the Inuit would now be sent to Ottawa for all treatments and follow-ups. Montreal.  Noooooo!  What a cruel thing to do.  You have your cardiologist and whatnot for three years and sorry, you have not choice now.  We were all saddened.  A couple of times I almost made it there to visit but by then, I had Iain and then Aidan and it was more difficult to just pick up and go.  Plus, many times the visits were decided quite last-minute.

In the summer of 2003, Ottawa had a major blackout so Joanne and Andrew (Margaret was pregnant with AJ so she had to let Andrew do her job!) got re-routed to Montreal and, of course, there was no way I was not going to see them at their hotel!  It was a very quick in and out so we didn’t even have time to do much but chat for an hour or so.  But  oh my!  To see Joanne at 7 years old!  What a wonderful thing!

Andrew & Joanne

July 2003 Surprise Visit


Then, as things happen when you are thousands of kilometres apart, we sort of lost touch.   We sent each other emails now and again but not as often.

One day, my fax kept ringing, as if someone was trying to call.  Our fax does not do double duty so I was not able to pick up.  It was Margaret desperately trying to reach me. In one of their moves she had lost her phone book so she looked me up and the only number still under my name was the fax.  She finally ended up sending me an email.

On March 24, 2008, they lost Joanne.   Oh, my heart broke.  We had shared so many experiences but this one, this one, was not one I wanted us to share.  I felt as she did 11 years earlier.  One of mine was gone and now MY community was mourning for her.  I immediately called her and we sobbed together as she told me the whole story.  Heartbreaking.

Life goes on and then Facebook arrived in our lives and now keeping in touch with each other’s lives was so much easier.  We could share photos as well as words so they, of course, heard about Mick too.

Then, this March 20th, I got a message telling me that she, Andrew and AJ were coming down at the end of the month!  They were spending a few days in Ottawa at Margaret’s sister’s house and they had a Habs game on Thursday night so there would be time for us to get together.  Woot!!!   Yesterday I picked them up at their hotel and brought them over so we could spend a few hours together, share a meal and a glass of wine and reminisce.  To think our angels would have been 19 this year…

My boys brought AJ down to play video games and all got along swimmingly.  During the meal, Andrew explained to Iain the ways of the Inuit: hunting, fishing, making clothing out of the various skins: seal, wolf, polar bear.  Andrew showed him videos of them hunting and fishing and trying to scare off a young (teenager) polar bear from atop a small cabin!  Iain was absolutely fascinated and had many a question that both Andrew and Margaret took pleasure in answering.  I think if I were to suggest to Iain a little visit up to Iqaluit or Pangnirtung, he’d be more than willing to go!


Together again after 16 years


We have known each other for nineteen years, and other than the first two months of our kids’ lives, only saw each other again a total of three times!  And yet, we feel as close as can be.  It is a special bond, that is for sure.  Hopefully there will be more opportunities for them to come down in the future!  I have definitely added Baffin Island to my bucket list and hope to make it up there one day!  They would love for that to happen.  It is extremely expensive to go so I’ll have to start up yet another travel fund!

Till then, we will continue to exchange over Facebook!

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Hugs and laughs







For You, Dad

There are so many things I want to say. So many things I want to share I’m quite unsure where to start.  So I’ll just go.  And bear with me, I’ve a feeling I’ll be all over the place but I don’t want to take the time to put it all into a neat little package.  This is an emotional post.  It’ll be raw.   There will be a total lack of formality.   I care not.  I wanted to write something one year ago today but couldn’t.  This is more for me and my sisters, Susan and Sonny (maybe even Mom) so, I’ll totally understand any readers who decide this is TLDR…

You, Laurence H. Rogerson (Larry to some but Laurence to your dearest friends) were born on September 11, 1942, in Vernon, British Columbia.

Baby Laurence

Baby Laurence

At the age of 11 months (I think!), you and your mother moved to Montreal, to what is now the very trendy area of the Plateau Mont-Royal.  Of course now when I pass the streets of your youth, I can hear you say Jeanne (pronounced Jean and not Jeanne à la française) Mance or St. Laurence (was never St. Laurent to you) or Clarke….  In this neighbourhood – and I think you also hung around what is now known as Mile End, just north of the Plateau, you and your buddies: Sonny, the 2 Jerrys, Henry, Sid, etc. with nicknames like Pickle, Bear and Weasel, to name a few, got into trouble and did whatever boys did in the Fifties.

I only wish I had taken notes every time you told us stories of the “olden” days when you were a kid.  How you and your buddies tormented “Shtunks” (Mr. and Mrs. Stringer – who owned a small general store in your ‘hood) constantly by either sticking labels all over their storefront windows at night when all were asleep, or entering the store and turning off the lights and touching all the chip bags just so they’d freak out wondering what you stole!  Or worse, when you guys put a bag of poop on their front stoop and lit it on fire. Seriously!  Hadn’t these poor people been through enough by surviving the Holocaust?  You guys probably sent Mr. Stringer to an early grave… I’ll never forget when you introduced me to Mrs. Stringer. She still had the store! She let us know that you had been a real brat in your youth!  Right after visiting her, you brought me to Wilensky’s – brought to fame in The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, based on Mordechai Richler‘s book and made even more famous by the movie starring Richard Dreyfuss.  Only place where asking for NO mustard costs MORE!!! (‘Coz you’re changing the special!)

As the oldest of five children (even though the other four are half-siblings, you NEVER used the term “half”), you became quite the provider at a very young age. A hustler, if you will!  You could sell anything! And I mean ANYthing!  You were a salesman from the time you started working at 12-13:  magazines, bread, real estate (where you were THE BOMB!), mutual funds, name it, you could sell it…

What a handsome young man you became!  I mean, seriously, who could resist buying whatever you were selling?  This must have been one of your first professional head shots from your early real estate days.  You were a young father-to-be and you had decided you were done with schlepping bread from Mr. Christie’s from one end of the Montreal Island to another so you marched into a real estate office (can’t remember the name – I really should call Sonny….) and offered your services to sell houses.  No experience.   Well, bloody hell, you got the job!  In a short amount of time, you even managed to finagle a deal where you got to live in one of the model houses in Boucherville so it would be easier to sell.  Did I mention you didn’t even have a car??? You definitely had a gift.

L.H. Rogerson head shot

L.H. Rogerson head shot

You met Mom and married her in August 1962 at St. Kevin’s Church in Côte-des-Neiges.  You even lied about your age!  You were a year younger than she and only going to be 20 the month after the wedding.

August 4, 1962

August 4, 1962

Your best friend in the world was Sonny.  If Mom had been the type, we probably would have called him “Uncle”, as some do for close friends.  For me, he is part of the family.

Bobbi, Sonny, Mom & Dad

Bobbi, Sonny, Mom & Dad

Looking at that picture above… man oh man I miss that mirror!  When I bought your house, it came with.  Then we took it down and I can’t for the life of me remember if we broke it by accident or decided it had to go.  I kinda regret it now…

Well, as nature wills it, a couple often doesn’t remain so for very long.  Especially in those days!  So, along came moi in April ,1964, not quite a year and a half after marrying your first love of your life (you were lucky, you got two; but I’ll get to that later!)

Dad and me with King

Dad and me with King

Three years later, in September 1967, Lisa arrived

Dad and Lisa

Dad and Lisa

Three years later, on your birthday, you received a special gift, Tracy, in September 1970.  You were to forever be linked on September 11th.

Tracy & Dad, Birthday Buds

Tracy & Dad, Birthday Buds

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING made you more proud than your girls.

You so wanted boys, Dad.  You know, to carry the Rogerson name…. Sorry.  Wasn’t in the cards!  Three girls are what you got!  But you couldn’t fool us even if you tried. You were sooooo proud of us – loved showing us off whenever we achieved something or another.  I came to realise that even more as I got older.  I’d look back and remember that it was YOU who came to my games, tournaments, practices.  You did for all of us, no matter what it was.  And, you did admit, once the boy cousins started arriving in the family… you were lucky to have just girls!


As well as the “olden day stories”, we also had to listen to many corny jokes “New Blue Cheer” comes to mind.  I can’t even remember the friggen punch line but I’m laughing anyway because I can hear you saying part of it “Sauce, sauce, sauce dans le New Blue Cheer; Rinse, rinse, rinse dans l’eau froid”, sung in a nasally voice!  That one we heard over and over.  Maybe that’s why I’ve blocked it out!!

Or, how about making us watch the movie Lies My Father Told Me so we could hear the old man singing:  “Rags! Clothes! Bottles!”   For you, this represented your childhood and it was important to you to make us understand just where you came from.  You came from Welfare and were determined to change your fate.  You hustled, you did what you had to do, you succeeded at whatever you tried.  Truly, you were an inspiration that again, I only truly realised once I was older and had a family of my own.

Sorry… got side-tracked there!

Your first years as a young father were pretty tough.  I heard the story of buying me my first Christmas present from food stamps.  Hard to believe as you made some serious coin as a real estate agent, then  manager, then broker of your own business.  You also were really good at spending!  Trips, jewels, dug-in pool (hey, were the first in our circle)!  You and Mom went at least twice per year to some fancy, Caribbean destination.  Wasn’t the style back then to bring the kids like it is today…. Jamaica, Barbados, Cruises, Hawaii!  Woot!  And you were stylin’, Baby!

Some cruise or hot destination

Some cruise or hot destination

Now, that was all and good but when you get to the nitty-gritty, the most important thing for you was family and that included Sunday Night Dinners.  We all had to be home on Sundays – with our boyfriends, when they came into the picture!  At least once, twice, maybe three times per month, Sonny was there too.  Please tell me why he wasn’t your best man?  We never understood that one!

I can’t look back on my childhood with any regret.  It was a good one.  We had the usual family stuff and of course there were fights but there were many more loving moments to more than tip the scales.  Crazy moments and lots of laughter. And the parties!  Woot!  We had some loud parties in our backyard…

You dreamed of having a sailboat for, well, forever.  Seems to me there were “Sail” magazines all over the house for years and years.  Well, you finally did it.  You bought “Footloose”, a 32″ Bayfield with a fabulous bowsprit.  She was your pride and joy and I think the years you had her were among the happiest of your life.  To be able to sail on Lake Champlain, captain your own “ship” was a dream come true. Those were some fantastic years indeed!

Actually, on your 25th wedding anniversary, we had a devil of a time getting you off Footloose and home to where loads of people were waiting to celebrate, friends and family.  This was before cellphones so we kept calling the Marina, trying to coax you off the boat and home.  We finally had to tell you that one of Mom’s sisters was over for a surprise visit.  Sheesh… The party lasted the whole week-end!

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Surprise 25th Anniversary Party

Dad and his girls

Dad and his girls

Well, sadly, a mere four years later, after 29 years of marriage, it was over.  Those were some tough times for us all.  But, like all things, we move on and life goes on.

Luckily for you, Dad, you re-met Susan, Susie to you.  You finally worked up the courage to ask her out on a date, then another and well, the rest is history!  A second chance at love!  I can still remember poor Susan coming to Lisa’s for Christmas.  She was so nervous about meeting Larry’s girls!  And to her we were all so tall and loud and over-whelming.  Luckily for her, I had made my now-famous fruit cake and she was able to keep herself busy munching on it.  On this night, Lisa announced she was pregnant for Jennifer.  The first grand-child!  Then the twins, 15 months later!

Susan and Dad

Susan and Dad

Three years later came Austin, a fourth grand-child and one that stole your heart.  He wasn’t around for that long but he had a huge impact on us all.  I think one of the hardest things you ever had to live through was losing him.   But, ever the optimist and by nature a happy person, every time you found a penny, you always put it in your pocket stating it was a penny from heaven, from Austin.  You big softie.  Well, we always knew you were a mushy wuss.  Hell, you even loved chick-flicks!

And then came more grand-children!  Well!  Could you be any happier than to be Grandpa to eleven kids?  You just preened like a peacock to be able to say you had so many!

We know you were super happy to have us all over for Christmas but didn’t cry when it was time for us to leave!  We could be a noisy bunch, eh?  Still. You just glowed organising the whole thing.  Or, was that just sweat?

You always claimed you were the happiest man around.  You had led a good life; made some mistakes, yes, but who hasn’t; had some great successes and overall were satisfied. You were surrounded by friends and family.  Susan’s family loved you as one of their own.  Mom’s family loved you even though you were no longer with Mom.  You made everyone feel special.



You silly man; you used to say that you would be happy to live to 69.  That 70 was a ripe age. Why in the hell did you limit yourself that way?  Who could guess that you would just make it?  When you got sick you jokingly said that had you known, you wouldn’t have chosen such a young age.

All through your illness you never complained.  You smiled at ALL the nurses and technicians and doctors.  You shrugged when you had to stay in the hospital for whatever reason.   You always answered the telephone with the most upbeat “hello”…  Never a whine…

You just wanted to make it to Susan’s 70th birthday to surprise her with a get-together of her family (which included us, of course!)  She was indeed surprised.  That was on Tuesday, May 7th.  You were so bloated from the medication and had trouble moving yet you smiled through the whole thing.  By Friday you were hospitalised, never to return home.  You would have preferred to go to your beloved St. Mary’s but it was just too far and the ambulance technicians didn’t feel it was a good choice.

Even though you knew you would never be getting out, you still remained upbeat.  A couple close calls had us all in a tizzy but you still hung on.  You made sure we knew exactly what you wanted as a send-off.  Where you wanted the celebration of your life, that you wanted to be cremated, that your ashes be spread up in St-Jovite on Jean’s mountain.  Every last detail – right down to the music!  I must admit it is a strange thing to have to discuss but we knew we didn’t have that much time.

Well Dad, on the morning of May 23rd, 2013, you decided would be your last day.  You wanted them to “pull the plug” so to speak.  The staff at the St-Jean hospital were fantastic and extremely solicitous.  You were so very well taken care of and as per your wish, you left your body, on your terms, surrounded by your daughters, your spouse and your step-son.  Earlier in the day, I had told you how proud I was to be your daughter and you responded that YOU were proud to have been my dad.  We all feel the same way, without a doubt.

And we celebrated you as you wished.  No matter how much we teased you about your bagpipes, you got them.  Chris did the most wonderful job on the video of your life – he worked tirelessly on it and I swear every single person who dropped by watched the whole thing; many more than once!  It was all perfect.

I miss you terribly and still go to pick up the phone to tell you something, realising half-way towards it that you aren’t here in body any more.

Dad and me

Dad and me

One of your selections, which just happens to be one I love and makes me think of you…

I hope you are sailing on some wonderful adventure.

Happy place

Happy place


A Walk Through Part of Old Boucherville

As you know, dear Readers, I take long walks with my dog, Zeke, almost every day.  It has given me the time to contemplate, enjoy, see, smell, hear and just be with my surroundings.  Sometimes we have to cross busy, noisy streets; but always with the intention of finding some new quiet pathway or park; or better yet, rediscovering something that I’ve known was there but just never really took the time to see and experience.

This is what happened on our last walk. I had decided to cross over to the riverside (which means walking for a short time on a less enjoyable path).  I had two options within a reasonable walking distance.  Walking along Fort St-Louis, which is one of the main boulevards in my neck of the woods and taking the “secret” passage, or crossing over Marie-Victorin, another main boulevard, which is a little busier and has no sidewalks for part of the way.  I chose the first to go and the second on my return trip.

This path went along “my” river (which I now know is called Sabrevois) and brought us over to the Louis-Hippolyte Lafontaine House in de la Broquerie Park in Old Boucherville.  This house has been standing since 1766,  was the birthplace of Louis-H. Lafontaine in 1807, and moved to its present location and classified as a historical monument in 1965.  It is funny how you can have a piece of history in your back yard and yet no nothing about it, having never taken the time to find out.  This caused me to Google him and the City of Boucherville and learn more.  There is still more reading to be done but for now, I post!

About 100 yards away lie the remains of the “Chateau” Sabrevois, built in 1735, then given to the Jesuits in 1887 and then renamed La Villa La Broquerie.  It was expanded over the years and between 1910 and 1952, became a retirement home considered the birthplace of closed pension plans in Canada.  Sadly, a fire destroyed the Villa in 1970 and this is all that remains, alongside a plaque explaining the particulars.

After our little historical stop, Zeke and I made our way towards the St. Lawrence River.  We spotted some wildlife, including this lovely guy, posing solo, and this pair of ducks!

Walking towards the marina and rowing club, we spotted this private dock.  What a fabulous place it must be to sit and watch the comings and goings on the river, with a view of the Boucherville Islands!

We continued on and arrived at the special ferry dock.  During the summer months, cyclists and pedestrians can be ferried across to the Islands, a Provincial Park, for the “modest” sum of $6.50; $2 off if you have a Provincial park pass….


Ferry dock with view of Island

I then attempted to take a picture between the rails, figuring it would frame nicely and ended up cropping the rails out!  Makes the picture look quite panoramic, don’t you think?


At this point, we decided to turn back home, this time walking along the bicycle path.  I made the mistake of going down to the docks at the rowing club.  Next thing I know, I hear “Splash!” as Monsieur Zeke decides this is a great place to jump off from!


Just taking a dip

After sighing at Zeke, I decided to walk along the long dock and Zeke joined me.  There were many sticks floating around the dock which caught Zeke’s eye….

So next thing I know, in falls Zeke, head-first!  He attempted to get back up on the dock and no matter how much I tried to convince him to swim to the shore, he kept turning back to me.  So I grabbed him by the collard and hauled him up.  85 lbs of wet dog is NOT an easy task!

Just look at him sitting there like nothing happened!!!

Um... I may have fallen in the water!

Um… I may have fallen in the water!