I am a hurrier. If a group existed where I could join in with other such flawed individuals to help me kick the habit, I would do so with an eager heart. I would raise my hand and say, “My name is Wendi Stewart and I hurry.” I can’t help […]
Wendi Stewart – Wendi with an ‘eye’
Wendi lives in Nova Scotia’s Annapolis Valley, but the farm on Rainy River in Crozier will always be her home. MEADOWLARK, her debut novel released September 15, is published by NeWest Press of Edmonton. She is the mother of four daughters who did the unforgivable: they grew up. http://wendistewart.writersresidence.com
My parents used to have parties when I was little—parties with lots of people; invariably my mother on the piano and a stack of records on the record player. They danced. I suppose they drank, though I don’t recall that part. My sister and I watched, through the heat grate […]
Do you remember being eight or nine years old and reciting Walter De la Mare’s poem, “Some One?” It was one of my favourite poems. Someone came knocking at my wee small door; Someone came knocking I’m sure sure sure. Ringing any bells? I clearly recall standing at the front […]
I’m not a fan of midway rides. Ferris wheels make me want to vomit—just at the top when you come over the edge and the world disappears. Roller-coasters are just too hard on my equilibrium, now especially but even when I was young. I pretended to enjoy the “Round Up” […]
You didn’t know “Stinky.” You may have known “a” Stinky but not “the” Stinky. You would have been better for having known him. Samantha found Stinky in Guelph, in between the front doors of her apartment building. One of the heavy doors had closed on his tail, breaking the end […]
If I were rich (well, not even rich, just richer, but quite a bit richer), I would go to the hairdresser every other day to have my hair washed. I would lie back in the special chair and she (because I prefer a she rather than a he, but I’m […]
At first glance, I am not a fan of August. In fact, August may be my least favourite month, though February may run a close second. August feels like a month of shifting; the heat seems less intense, the bugs less vigorous, the days begin to shrink more noticeably, and […]
I was having a bad day—the kind of bad day that you know is going to settle in like an all-day rain, with not a single chance of sunshine; the sky all dark and grey and pressing in. The day started out with a bad tone and chances were it […]
I was thinking of the definition of family the other day, wondering why it seems limited to “a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household; a group related by blood or marriage.” That seems a stark definition to me—lacking the soul and depth that the mere […]
Oh, to be young again. How often do those of us over 50 utter those words when our backs are aching, when our hair is thinning, when our eyesight is dimming, and when our memory is . . . ummm, I can’t remember what I was going to say about […]
Why? Why? If I were able to list three questions that I could pose to whomever is in charge, given the opportunity, I would not have to ponder said collection of questions very long before arriving at three—with a whole line-up of questions on stand-by. I would inquire as to […]
Gardening is a promise. I can’t think of a better way to describe it. I don’t know if anyone else has said that before me, but I’m saying it now. We scour seed catalogues in early spring and examine seed racks at every second store. We start seeds inside, making […]
