Columns

What a crazy summer it has been. It started on June 15 with a national radio interview with Matt Galloway on CBC’s The Current. At the end of July, we received a call from the Canadian Alzheimer's Society asking if we would do another interview, this time with CBC TV news. We agreed to call the CBC

Gradually the Walkerton Legion is returning to normal with all the proper health protocols in place. Thursday afternoon darts are back again, but not team darts yet.

Last week in the Listowel Banner, I wrote an article about the rise in scams and frauds across Ontario. The same day I wrote that piece, I nearly became a victim myself.

Rumour has it that a federal election is coming soon. Maybe it will even be called by the time this is published.

While some of the memories seem like yesterday, the doors of Listowel’s most famous watering hole, Modeans, have been closed for over a decade. 

We are now almost back to normal with our meat draws. The hardest thing is remembering to put a mask back on when you get up to claim your prize.

Loosely keeping up with my theme of commentaries on historical vessel tragedies as of late, my fourth instalment on the subject will be of a slightly different variety this week.

I am not a soccer fan.

It was a heck of a week for Listowel’s Corey Conners.

It looks as if getting the new drug called Aduhelm will be almost impossible to get for several reasons that I do not consider reasonable. But, I won’t go there now – more to come in the future, I hope. This column is about what do I do in the meantime.

As the headline of this column suggests, I didn’t realize that there are not two but three dogs in my house. Sort of.

Last Sunday, the Walkerton Legion restarted the Catch the Ace Draw with a jackpot sitting at $10,211. Since President Rose is not allowed to buy tickets, she rolled the basket and pulled out a ticket purchased by Kellie O’Hagan of Walkerton.

Being at the beach for a few days last week, I had plenty of time to gaze out over the blue waters of Lake Huron and be thankful that I wasn’t way out there myself, out of visual range of the shore. The thought never fails to give me the willies.

As someone married to an “out-of-towner,” I quite often find myself playing six degrees of separation with my wife.