Remembrance Day

I'm always conflicted on this day. I feel the sorrow of the families who lost fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, in the various wars. My dad never talked about the war, though his service eventually killed him, too - radiated while working on radar towers, he died of lymphoma. The blame was clear enough for him…

The end of an era

There's something terrifically sad about the end of a generation, that moment when the last of a set of siblings pass away and you realize, with shock, that there is no one left who truly remembers your parents as kids and you forgot or were too busy or wrapped in your own details to ASK…

It’s almost National Crime Writing Month!

Now, finally, a blog topic that won't involve endless self-examination and revelation and such. Phew. Because I haven't done any crimes. Okay, I remember ONE TIME where I stole something. I was in grade 5. I STILL feel guilty about it. Ashamed, bad, totally awful. I'd make amends to the harmed party but I am…

Remembering…but wishing we didn’t keep adding to those needing remembering…

It's Remembrance Day and I am filled with muddled emotions. I feel for all who served and died, all their families, all those who were harmed by war, on both sides. I don't want to take anything away from their sacrifices. But I detest the glorification of war. Maybe it's cos I just came from…

Live Tweeting the apocalypse

I'm baffled. Lately my adopted city, Halifax, has taken to a bizarre habit of "live-tweeting" historical events. I participated in the first one - the live tweeting of the Halifax explosion. It was strange. Every few moments around the anniversary of the event, there'd be a tweet purporting to be from people involved in the…

Shrieking in the night

I'm beginning to wonder if writing murder mysteries is drawing death closer to me. Just the other day, someone living in the house behind me was murdered. The "perp" as those hard-boiled detective people say, probably walked right through my back yard - the police marked his path with red flags and they are still…

It’s just getting worse…

Okay, as if falling space junk wasn't enough, apparently the granddaddy of all volcanoes is muttering to himself and getting ready for one of those huge gaseous explosions ascribed to grandfathers everywhere. Only this one is going to block out sunlight and make it rain ashes everywhere. Mount Tambora, its name is. Learn it well.…

Fatwa the parrot and other post-death torments

I'm reading a totally thought-provoking mystery by Henning Mankell, called "the  Troubled Man". In it, Wallender spends a lot of time thinking about mortality and getting older. What with that and my own sudden need for a walker to get around dependably, I've been revisiting the whole end of life thing. I already have wills…

The difficulties of murder in the garbage correctness age

A few years back, I remember reading a story about a woman who was found, cut into bits, in dumpsters all over the city.  The newspaper added, "Police state that the death....was suspicious..." I couldn't help myself from visualizing some guilt inducing mother somewhere dragging herself along the byways of the city, hollering, "Never come…

Animal cemeteries, or, is that dead gerbil still in the freezer?

There was an article in the local rag today about how a woman and her son had been arrested after the bodies of 37 cats had been found buried in their back yard. Horrible, but... This put the fear of retribution back into the easily terrorized corners of my mind. I mean, what parent doesn't…