When I Was Young and In My Prime Read Online Free
Author: Alayna Munce
Tags: Canadian Fiction, Literary Novel
scarlet tanager (pirana olivacea)
When my parentsâ marriage ends my mother moves us to the outskirts of Brampton; our new house (along with forty- five others exactly like ours) crouches on a small circular suburban street called Tanager Square.
Peter Friesen comes to inspect, sees the high-fenced yard.
Postage stamp, he mutters, and spits, not enough room to grow a bloody thing. And it must of been a damn fool who named the placeâyou sure wonât be seeing any tanagers
here.
11 the blue jay (cyanocitta cristata)
Aunt Anne was Grandpaâs favourite sister.
She hated blue jays because they were greedy at her feeder.
And that is all I know
about Aunt Anne.
did the question disturb you
What is it Like to Have Alzheimer Disease?
( from Alzheimer: A Canadian Family Resource Guide)
Another way to find out more about Alzheimer is to try to imagine what it is like to have it. Obviously, you canât know exactly what it is like. However, the following scenarios should give you some insights into what your family member is going through, and how he or she feels. All of the examples in the list happen to people every day; they were chosen because they are everyday occurrences that are analogous to having Alzheimer Disease. They are not signs of the disease.
Think about the last time you lost your car in a parking lot. How did you feelâfrightened, angry, bewildered, panicky? Did you feel as though you might never find it?
How frustrated did you feel the last time a vending machine didnât work? It wouldnât give you what you wanted and it wouldnât return your money and nothing you did (kicking, hitting, swearing) made any difference.
Have you ever left your house and later were unable to remember whether you turned the stove off? Did you go back to the house to check? Did you call a neighbour to see if everything was all right at the house? Did you do neither of those things, and then worry the whole time you were away? Did you then become obsessive for a while, so that every time you left the house you went back to make sure the stove was turned off?
How did you feel the last time you met someone you knew and couldnât remember the personâs name? How did you feel when you wanted to make an introduction and could not because you forgot a name?
Pussy willows for sale in buckets outside the corner store where I buy my cigarettes: sure sign of spring. Not to mention the fact that James and I are having twice as much sex as we usually do. But I know itâs officially, officially spring when my neighbours Connie and Bill emerge from hibernation.
James and I live in a spacious one-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a once-grand, now-verging-on- squalid old house in Parkdale, one of Torontoâs more liminal neighbourhoods (rich meets poor, crazy meets sane, old meets new, wild meets tameâmeetings so haphazard and insistent that sometimes the aspect shifts, and youâd be hard- pressed to say which is which). Connie and Bill live on the main floor of the house next door. All winter we donât see them, then one day they come out. After that, theyâre around for the next four months, smoking on their porch, radio tuned to the oldies station. Billy used to be with the Hellâs Angels. Heâs quiet, doesnât do much else besides smoke and mumble the occasional greeting, one hand stroking his stubble. Heâs always looking off into the distance, as if someone stole his bike some time ago and heâs been marooned here ever since. Connie, on the other hand, never stops moving.
She was the first Native woman to ever be a supervisor in the Childrenâs Aid Society, but she quit all that years ago, fed up with the generalities of policy trumping the particularities of people every time. These days sheâs planting seeds she stole from the seed heads of flowers she admired in other gardens last yearâor, like yesterday, sheâs
When my parentsâ marriage ends my mother moves us to the outskirts of Brampton; our new house (along with forty- five others exactly like ours) crouches on a small circular suburban street called Tanager Square.
Peter Friesen comes to inspect, sees the high-fenced yard.
Postage stamp, he mutters, and spits, not enough room to grow a bloody thing. And it must of been a damn fool who named the placeâyou sure wonât be seeing any tanagers
here.
11 the blue jay (cyanocitta cristata)
Aunt Anne was Grandpaâs favourite sister.
She hated blue jays because they were greedy at her feeder.
And that is all I know
about Aunt Anne.
did the question disturb you
What is it Like to Have Alzheimer Disease?
( from Alzheimer: A Canadian Family Resource Guide)
Another way to find out more about Alzheimer is to try to imagine what it is like to have it. Obviously, you canât know exactly what it is like. However, the following scenarios should give you some insights into what your family member is going through, and how he or she feels. All of the examples in the list happen to people every day; they were chosen because they are everyday occurrences that are analogous to having Alzheimer Disease. They are not signs of the disease.
Think about the last time you lost your car in a parking lot. How did you feelâfrightened, angry, bewildered, panicky? Did you feel as though you might never find it?
How frustrated did you feel the last time a vending machine didnât work? It wouldnât give you what you wanted and it wouldnât return your money and nothing you did (kicking, hitting, swearing) made any difference.
Have you ever left your house and later were unable to remember whether you turned the stove off? Did you go back to the house to check? Did you call a neighbour to see if everything was all right at the house? Did you do neither of those things, and then worry the whole time you were away? Did you then become obsessive for a while, so that every time you left the house you went back to make sure the stove was turned off?
How did you feel the last time you met someone you knew and couldnât remember the personâs name? How did you feel when you wanted to make an introduction and could not because you forgot a name?
Pussy willows for sale in buckets outside the corner store where I buy my cigarettes: sure sign of spring. Not to mention the fact that James and I are having twice as much sex as we usually do. But I know itâs officially, officially spring when my neighbours Connie and Bill emerge from hibernation.
James and I live in a spacious one-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a once-grand, now-verging-on- squalid old house in Parkdale, one of Torontoâs more liminal neighbourhoods (rich meets poor, crazy meets sane, old meets new, wild meets tameâmeetings so haphazard and insistent that sometimes the aspect shifts, and youâd be hard- pressed to say which is which). Connie and Bill live on the main floor of the house next door. All winter we donât see them, then one day they come out. After that, theyâre around for the next four months, smoking on their porch, radio tuned to the oldies station. Billy used to be with the Hellâs Angels. Heâs quiet, doesnât do much else besides smoke and mumble the occasional greeting, one hand stroking his stubble. Heâs always looking off into the distance, as if someone stole his bike some time ago and heâs been marooned here ever since. Connie, on the other hand, never stops moving.
She was the first Native woman to ever be a supervisor in the Childrenâs Aid Society, but she quit all that years ago, fed up with the generalities of policy trumping the particularities of people every time. These days sheâs planting seeds she stole from the seed heads of flowers she admired in other gardens last yearâor, like yesterday, sheâs
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