Opinion

As the GPS, standard in most cars and smart phones completes its directions and a vehicle pulls up to the address a cheery maiden announces, “You have arrived.”

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With Valentine’s Day upon us, I am reminded that I really don’t enjoy this romantic pseudo-holiday tradition, despite being very much in love with my spouse, the Carpenter.

Our impulse control is clearly not in check this morning, so please excuse the rant on a subject that has been our passion for closing in on four decades.

Growing into a teenager, I’ve noticed our society’s fixation with romantic love. 

Long-disappeared Bosworth was once a place of importance. 

St. Valentine’s day turns our minds to thinking about love and faith.

Last Sunday, Charlotte Broome very generously passed on to me a bag of old newspapers, clippings and other fascinating historical items that had been accumulated by her mother, the late Edith Broome, who served as Elora’s librarian in the 1960s to the early 1980s.

I am so excited for this weekend I’m not sure how I’ll get through the next few days with any focus, except that of wishing time would fly faster, because this coming weekend promises several rough spectator sports, like watching the Carpenter sit through the Super Bowl. 

They still call it MBWA – management by wandering around.

We have all heard of, or experienced, those dreadful body aches and pains that started with snow removal; maybe its your back, or shoulder or knees. 

To start this story, I must explain I don’t like to be late.