Maggie Wilson Author

Historical Non-Fiction in Northern Ontario


New Rule

If you know TV talk show host Bill Maher, you know his “New Rule” segment in which he pokes fun at whatever issue has caught his attention. I’ve been known to declare “New Rule” around the house, too, though usually not at someone else’s expense. For instance. Living here in Northern Ontario means vegetable gardening is a gamble. For the first few years, I faithfully planted tomatoes. Harvest was fair […]

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Fireworks: a PSA

A friend from the small community fifteen minutes south invited us to attend their New Year’s festivities tonight. We are setting off fireworks here on New Year’s eve If you folks are bored. We have to stay in our vehicles but it should be fun. “Thanks, George, maybe next year?” I wrote in the return email. The longer version of that severely edited reply, however, is my last blog post […]

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We Caught a Mouse

In most households, the first thing one might hear upon rising in the morning is, “How did you sleep?” or “Coffee’s ready.” In ours, it’s “We caught a mouse.” Or on good days, “No mice this morning.” The first item in Reiner’s daily ritual is checking the trapline. He has snares in the drop ceiling of the basement, in the pantry, and under the kitchen stove. I am not troubled […]

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Show and Tell

Today Reiner walked to the Silver Café to meet his pals of the Round Table. You know, the shadow cabinet. The brain trust. A decades old tradition here in Cobalt in which the guys meet for coffee and chew the fat. The café has designated a special room for the group– separate entrance, a large table, and their own carafe of coffee. He hasn’t been able to attend ever since […]

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Patience, Grasshopper

[contented sigh] The summer has been lovely – no threat of forest fire like we had last summer, and therefore no stinky days with windows closed against the smoke. The evenings have been great for sleeping – full moons and digestive issues notwithstanding. Cats romping and roaming, notwithstanding. (One doesn’t get to use big words like notwithstanding often enough, wouldn’t you agree?) I’m not so sure about the garden, though. […]

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Are you still there?

  The red light on the phone was blinking. I’m in charge of retrieving the messages. I wish he’d learn to navigate the prompts because most of the time, the recording is for him. But heck, he’s out mowing the lawn. It’s the least I could do… Sure enough, it’s his old school chum, recommending that Reiner tune in to this dancing-something-or-other on CBC – TV? Radio? TV, I suppose, […]

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$2.00 plus free shipping

I should know better than to carry on a long-distance conversation with my hearing-impaired husband. He will deny that, by the way. The “hearing impaired” part. Me, from the front door, hollering over to him, as he’s raking the lawn: “Have you seen my pastry cutter?” “What?” “My pastry cutter. Have you seen it?” [Pause.] “I moved it. It was sharp and you weren’t using it. So.” Sharp? My pastry […]

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