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November 2008

Wednesday, Nov 26th, my final Book Week day

I flew back to Toronto and visited the two schools that I missed the previous Monday, due to my unexpected, urgent need to hang out with the white porcelain toilet of the estimable Toronto Downtown Bed and Breakfast for 24 hours straight.


The first was Erin Mills Middle School.  From the second I stepped in the door I felt incredibly welcome.  Rosanna Moody, the librarian is a bundle of enthusiasm.  She had a banquet of breakfast muffins, juice, coffee, tea and fresh fruit laid out in the staff room.  There were gift bags and a video announcement on the school video system.  She had bought many of my books and there were students from the school newspaper ready to interview me with their questions in hand. 

I did two readings in the gym.  One for the upper grades and one for the middle, both had around 200 cheering students .  It felt like a big party, all that was missing was the balloons and confetti.
  * * *

The last school I visited was Greenwood College School.  This was a beautiful campus.  Everybody in this school had not only bought Porcupine, but they had also read it.  There was a huge screen with photos of the kids reading Porcupine.  And a million dancing snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, twirling and swaying.  It was really beautiful and I have to say, they had the most exquisite podium I have ever seen.

The students here were great, boys cheering and twirling their arms in the air.  I was touched by their enthusiasm. I really liked that they had read the book because I could talk about events that happened without having to worry about ruining the plot.  I felt very lucky to have been invited by this school.  It was a great way to finish Book Week.

Thank you to all the organizers and sponsors and volunteers of CCBC.  It is a wonderful thing you do, and I feel proud to have been a small part of it.

Much love, Meg

Been away

Hi everybody,

I had to go to LA to visit a friend when I got back from Toronto and it was a sort of hurried last minute thing, so I decided not to lug my computer all that way for such a short stay, and besides, I knew that I would be too busy to blog. 

It was a quick trip, but I’m really glad I went.  It was nice to spend the day with my friend and I got the added bonus of seeing my daughter as she had already flown out and was there as well. 

Don and I saw him again in the morning, then it was off to the airport and are back to see Will’s closing night performance.  I am very excited to see the show again.  As his Thursday night’s performance was absolutely brilliant.  I have known he has the talent for years, but what I didn’t expect was the complexities that he wove through the character.  The depth and maturity and understanding of this character, that I would have thought impossible for an 18 year old to comprehend. 

Will was stunning and I am thrilled that I was able to get back from the hospital to experience his final performance. 

I also want to share with you my last day on Book Tour.  I have pictures and such, but I’ll have to do that in tomorrow’s blog as I have too much to do today.

Bye for now.  xo

An email from Don

Hi everybody,

I am off for my last day of readings, have to wash up, get dressed, finish packing up my suitcase, eat breakfast and leave quite soon, to do the final three talks, zip to the airport and fly home.

So, what am I doing writing to you?

Well… When I woke up this morning THIS was in my Inbox!

“You’ll be happy to know that Will was fantastic!  He really captured the character and he’s got such amazing stage presence.  I was literally choked up with pride for him.  So proud.  I can’t believe how many lines he had to memorize!  Everybody in the audience was duly impressed.  Mr. W____ did a nice job with the staging as well. 

You can rest easy.  Your boy is quite talented and he seemed really happy with the show.  He was bouncing/walking as we left the school.

He has another matinee tomorrow and an evening performance.  He’s asked to sleep in because he doesn’t do any work on performance days so I told him okay.  I’m going to bring him in at ten.

I love you and miss you and can’t wait for you to come home.”

YAY!  Now whose dancing on air?  Me!  Of course I know Will has tremendous talent, but this was a HUGE role, an enormous undertaking, in a play that I wasn’t certain high school students would be interested in.  PHEW!  I am so happy!

Okay, I’m off.  Have a great day everybody.  xo


I have just finished my last reading here in Ottawa and am waiting in the lobby of the hotel for Natalie to pick me up and drive me to the airport. 

I had a very nice day today, peaceful. 

Which I know is a strange thing to say, seeing as how it involved the morning shower, which now includes a blow-dry because it is really not a wise idea to do my usual drip-dry approach with this new haircut.  And yes, sigh, I got wheedled into trying yet a new hairdo the day before I left.  Not only that but I guess the poor woman must have had quite a shock when I walked my unkempt self into her salon because not only did she refuse to help me find a graceful way to grow out my hair, but she also, decided my eyebrows couldn’t not be seen leaving her salon and ripped half of them out. 

I have to say, I was quite surprised.  I’ve never had anyone do that. 

But that wasn’t all, after my eyes were half blinded with tears from all of her zealous yanking… she grabbed a spool of thread and bit off a long piece and twisted it around itself somehow and started rolling it all over my face! 

It hurt! 

“Um… what are you doing?”  I inquired politely as one can under such circumstance.

“Threading,” she muttered as best she could because part of this thread torture device she had devised was clenched between her teeth. 

Now, I didn’t know what to do, but she told me that it was a beauty technique that had been used for thousands of years and that Oprah and Jennifer Lopez swear by it, and I don’t know, she was so happy about trying to beautify me, that I pretended I was really happy to have it done, even though it hurt like hell.

Hmm… I’ve just gone on a unexpected journey.  I was going to say that it was a very busy day, with three library visits and taxis and huge piles of snow and slush to wade through, but it was peaceful too.  I met really nice people and read and talked with really great kids and now here I am, all done.

Oop!  I just got a call from Natalie, she is stuck at the hospital with her daughter.  I have to fly.  Find a taxi and make my way to the airport.  Bye!

Six more readings to go

And then I climb on another plane and fly back home, to Don’s loving arms, my son, our dogs, and our home. 

Tomorrow is opening night for Will and I have my fingers crossed that everything goes, well, you know what I wish for.  What any mother would wish for her son.  I just can’t say it because I don’t want to jinx it.  So, instead, I follow stage protocol and wish my son huge steaming piles of s__t.  Piles so big they rise up to the ceiling.  Piles of s__t so smelly they make the eyes burn and water.  That, my beloved son, is what I wish for you. 

I wish I could be there tomorrow night, and the next, but at least I will be home for the final three nights, and believe me.  I’ll be there, eyes glued on the stage, on my boy, doing what he does so well. 

Oh my how they grow.

  * * *

I had a nice day today, driving around with Natalie.  We had many more things in common than I first expected.  Interesting that. 

The first reading went great.  With the second, unfortunately there was a mix-up.  But the third one went well.  There was a lovely husband and wife there who had sponsored the third session I did.  They have sponsored many author visits, in memory of his first wife who loved literature and died in a car crash at age 36.  What a wonderful thing to do, keeping her memory alive in that way.  How many students lives has he and his present wife touched, enhanced with these author visits.  I found it quite moving, this couple, the sturdiness of their relationship.  It felt so solid.  Straight forward.  A partnership through and through. 

  * * *

Tomorrow I have three more readings and then back on the plane to Toronto to visit the three schools that I missed on Monday when I was otherwise engaged with the bowels of my toilet.  Hopefully everything will go smoothly and then it’s off to the airport to fly home.  YAY!

Jim’s blog

First, I have to take issue with the Rude One. It’s simply not true. You’ve never met a sweeter, more even and giving disposition than you’ll find with me. That fact that I simply can’t abide small children (W.C.  Fields had it right), or smokers (ever since I quit), or Republicans (except my parents, bless ‘em), or homophobes (no exceptions here),  or any officious clerk hiding behind a counter, or anyone else who doesn’t agree with me about everything, and I tell them so without restraint doesn’t make me rude, does it? It just makes me forthright. Henceforth, I shall be referred to as The Forthright One, please.

Now, that all cleared up, what can I write about in my Debut Blog? How about how honoured we both are to be invited. And how jealous I am of my spouse for finding such a good topic before I did. He’s right, though: Meg has introduced a new meaning of “cozy” into our life and we’re richer for it.

So I’ll start with a re-introduction of ourselves to you, because it’s always easier to talk about yourself, isn’t it? (I’m reminded of the line: “Well, enough about me! What about you? What do you think about me?”).  Rog and I have been together 13 years, finding each other and ourselves in 1995. We have six kids between us, Rog’s three (17, 17, 22) and my three (30-somethings). My career was at Sears, and Rog’s at Toronto Hydro, until we realized that there were many more fulfilling things to do with our life together. Rog had always been moonlighting as a travel agent, and had a McGill degree in Geography to go with it, so soon he was full time in that industry. We also loved staying at B&Bs so we decided to open our own, which quickly became the focus of our life. It was through the B&B that we met Meg, her family, and 1500 other wonderful people over 10 years. Five years ago, an enlighted Supreme Court of Ontario invited us to get married, which we did immediately, and then helped 42 other couples do the same in our home, a bonding of love and friendship that has made our life one continuous recommitment ceremony.

As Rog’s travel business grew by leaps and bounds, and our own personal travel opportunities expanded, we trimmed back the B&B, sold the “big house” and bought a downtown condo each in Toronto and Victoria, where we spend about half a year in each when we’re not at sea or otherwise out there testing all those many luxury travel experiences that you just have to get to know personally before you can recommend them with confidence. Tough job, eh?

And so now, we sit in Toronto, with Meg in our home, with France in the future next week, with Christmas and our family back in Toronto, and then with a winter in Victoria with our friends there.

What could be more ... cozy?

There, that’s Jim. 

Jim and Rog.  Rog and Jim.  Think of their blogs as an amuse bouche, but even with that little tiny taste, you can see how it is impossible not to love them.  Now think of me, here in Toronto courtesy of the Canadians Children’s Book Centre and TD Book Week.  And I don’t have to be satisfied with an appetiser.  I get the full feast of them. 

Who wouldn’t be smug?

Roger’s blog

Last night at another great dinner and evening, a discussion of Meg’s blog came up. Guest blog? What is that, what the hell should I write about? Those who know me well and read this will be surprised I am not going to write about me! I won’t go into detail about how we met Meg, but having her and her family in our life has seriously enriched mine and Jim’s. I had to think what anecdote, what story about our life with Meg could I write about, and then it came to me. Some words in our huge language you never think about. “Cozy” was one of those, a word that meant something different to me until I met Meg. Small, that was about it, to me. Nothing else. Meg loves “cozy.” Since my beloved Jim is the master of vocabulary, and the English language, I thought I had better check the Oxford dictionary ... comfortable, warm, and secure ...that’s it! After the last involving years of knowing Meg and her family I never hear that word without thinking about her. On a recent respite to a wonderfully atmospheric lodge, we were introduced to an owner of the hotel and, that’s right, her name was Cozy. For three great days, whenever I saw her, I saw Meg. Now cozy is a state of mind, the peace and security one gets from those close to you. Eating breakfast with B&B guests, sharing great stories with family and friends, complete trust, a quiet moment. Cozy: it means a lot to me. Thanks, Meg.

You see? (This is Meg now.  I just cut and pasted and then read it over once it had it secure on my site.  How nice is that!  What a sweetheart that Rog is.  Not to mention travel expert extraordinaire.  Check him out at  Hmm… I wonder what Jim’s going to write about.

Jim & Rog

Hello everybody,

I’ve arranged a special treat for all of you.  I went out to dinner last night with Rog & Jim last night, plied them with alcohol and then brainwashed them into thinking that doing a guest blog for me would be a great idea.  So, now, they are off, typing ferocious and I will be posting their guest blogs soon.

I’m going to post three photos of them, because I couldn’t decide which one was best. 

Jim aka Rude one is on the left and Rog aka polite one is on the right and both of them, as I’m sure you will agree, are absolutely adorable.



Markham Public Library

Jennifer Dias-Stevenson had set up two readings for me.  One for older students at the Village Branch and on for younger students at the Unionville Branch.  The students at both were great, interested, involved, asking tons of questions.  Jennifer had my books displayed which was nice. 

It was funny though, because when I first saw her, walking towards me looking like she stepped off of a magazine cover with this great outfit and cute necklace and fashionable avant-garde classy haircut, looking cool and collected.  And I thought, wow, maybe someday I’ll have the time to put myself together so nicely.

Well... She then confessed, while shaking my hand, that it had been a crazy, hectic morning and when she had been driving her two daughters, age 2 and 7 over to their grandparents house, one of them had thrown up in the car. 

Throw up in the car.  That is always fun. 

Brought back memories of my own children and their vomiting exploits.

After the second presentation we walked into town and had a quick lunch with Cheryl, the wonderful children’s librarian from the Unionville Branch.  They treated, which was unnecessary, but very much appreciated.  I was sorry it was so short, but Trevor ( who very generously gave up his day to drive me around) and I had to fly, because the next reading was a 20 minute drive away and we didn’t want to be late. 

I wish I hadn’t forgotten to take a picture though.  I found it rather inspiring that Jennifer could look so good after dealing with two young children, vomit, and a full-time job. 

George S. Henry Academy

Okay, now every now and then there is a school that just grabs your heart and doesn’t let go.  George S. Henry Academy is one of those schools.  Approaching the front doors, it’s looks pretty beat up.  There is not a lot of cash and privilege poured into this school. 


Let me just say this… I LOVED the Henry students.  I LOVED the staff that I met.  I would not be surprised if greatness rose out of the bosom of this school.  You could feel the personal connection and commitment that the educators had.  They might not have the financial resource that some other schools have, but they made up for it in effort and heart.  They had a banner, they had pictures, they had a biography on me, they had a beautiful table laid out with all my books (minus Gemma, of course.)  There were several copies.  Some of the teachers had read portions of Porcupine to their classes, some had read some of First Time, the drama teacher had somehow managed to get her hands on a copy of Agnes of God and her class had watched it. 

When we went into the library, it was beautifully laid out, with chairs and a microphone and water.  Julia had a plate of really delicious muffins in the office and juice and water.  There were around 200 high school students, and yet, when I started reading, it got so still and quiet that I felt like I was on book tour for one of my adult books and it was an audience of adults.  I read more pieces than I normally would because they kept wanting more.  They asked interesting questions, it was so much fun.  I probably shared a few more things than society would have deemed appropriate, but they were laughing and I got carried away.  And I’m glad I did, even though.

And get this, I was happily off on some tangent or another when all of a sudden vaguely, in the dim recesses of my practical brain, I remembered hearing a buzzer sound a few paragraphs back.  “Was that thing that rang a little while back?”  I asked.  “Was that the buzzer saying, school’s over time to go home?” 

“Yeah,” they said, looking amused.

“Oh!”  And I was embarrassed, but I was so touched too.  The bell to go home had rung not a single student left.  I guess they didn’t want to hurt my feelings.  And there I was oblivious, blabbing on about this and that.  They might have missed their buses and yet they stayed there, in their seats.

Now, I don’t know about you, but that was not my experience in High School.  The bell rang and everybody jumped up, packed up their bags and left.  It didn’t matter if the teacher was in the middle of an explanation.  The bell rung, the day was over, that was it.

And when I was packing up, students were rearranging the library, and I realized that those neat rows of chairs and the whole mic set-up… that wasn’t permanent!  That wasn’t always that way, were they had their assemblies and whatnot.  They had made it that way, just for this visit.  And as I packed up, they disassembled it all and round tables were brought in and the chairs were rearranged around them and the speaker area was wrapped up, the microphone disconnected and put away.

I was very moved, by this school.  The Staff is wonderful and Julia Ross is an amazing librarian!

It was a delight.  A joy.  A wonderful way to end the very busy week. 

I shall leave you with a photo of Julia and me after the talk was over, standing by the book display she did.  The pink thing I’m holding is a present from the students and for those who are curious, it was a lovely mug, and a pen and some delicious cherry chocolates which were very tasty. 






Well, I’ve blogged way too enthusiastically in the last two days.  I guess that’s what happens in the aftermath of a hearty dose of food poisoning. 

However, now the aftereffects have caught up with me.  It is 10:19 pm and I need to go to bed.


I’m going to post a few photos.  (Please forgive me, I can’t seem to figure out how to get the comments to line up with the pictures, I’ve fiddled for 15 extra sleepy minutes, but no success, so you’ll just have to imagine it.)

image  This first one is Kim standing in front of Children’s Book Bank and the next one is a photo of inside. 


It’s cozy huh? 

I was going to tell you about this wonderful non-profit grassroots organization but I’m so sleepy so I’m giving you her webpage and you can go and check it out.  My hat is off to all the voulenteers that work here.  I feel the work they do is very worthwhile and makes a difference.

And here is a photo of the magnificent Kelley England from King Township Library, who I adore and wish that we lived close by so we could go for walks and have tea and talk about life.    I really, really liked her.  And Kelley, thank you for having all my books, the beautiful display and filling the library.


And last but not least, thank you, Mark for driving me about and your solid support and companionship.  It was a real pleasure. 

Nite nite everybody.  I’m off to bed!  xo

an interesting tidbit

I just got back from my readings, checked the markets and… OH MY GOODNESS!

Then I started to read a few of my backed up financial newsletters and blogs and plucked this interesting quote from Investment Postcards From Capetown that I thought some of my readers might enjoy.

“The national budget must be balanced. The public debt must be reduced. The arrogance of the authorities must be moderated and controlled. Payments to foreign governments must be reduced. If the nation doesn’t want to go bankrupt, people must learn to work, instead of living on public assistance.” - Cicero, 55 BC.

It made me smile, so I wanted to share it before I forgot. 

Bye, I’m off to read the rest of it and then catch up on a couple days of Richard Russell’s Dow Theory Letters, Daily Remarks.  Fun, fun, fun. 

I had a great day and will write more later.

Oh dear…

I woke up at 6:17 am.  Couldn’t go back to sleep.  My own fault though.  I should have kept my mind peaceful, but instead, I rolled over saw the clock and thought, Oh no!  What if I’ve scared my sleep wave and can’t get back to sleep?  That would be horrible to have such a busy day and only four hours of sleep.

Boy, is the mind an amazing thing. 

Anyway, I lay in bed, trying not to panic, doing sleep breath, clearing my mind, but my mind was too excited.  It was like a dog that’s been cooped up inside and has seen it’s owner putting on their shoes and picking up the leash.  There is no way my mind is going to go back to snoozing by the fire.

Hence here I am.  Blogging to you.

A quick one though, because I’m going to have to head off to the shower soon.

St. Michael Catholic School

I was picked up for the motel by Judy Mullen’s husband, a very pleasant man with an impeccably clean car.  I felt pampered and spoiled just sitting in it on the way over to the school.

I was greeted warmly in the office, I was led into the Staff room where I hung up my coat and visited the bathroom.  Unfortunately, when the request to please stand for our national anthem came over the loud speaker I was otherwise engaged, but enjoyed the chorus of music that played over the loudspeaker.  I arrived back in the office, O’Canada was just finishing and then a girl read the morning prayer into mic and at the end everyone did the sign of the cross. 

I didn’t, because I’m not Catholic, but I have to say, the residual Agnes in me was delighted.  I found that seeing everybody standing quiet, listening to the prayer, then the two fingers making the signs of the cross, filled me with that Agnes happiness and joy and I was so glad that I got to be there, for morning prayer and to say hello to Sister Agnes doing a happy cozy dance inside me.

My talk was in the gym, and they had decided instead of doing two presentations to two separate groups, that they’d rather I did one long one to everyone.  That was fine with me.  My talks are sort of a free-form-lets-see-where-we-go-today kind of thing. 

Thank you, Judy for inviting me.  We had so much fun.  The students were great and I probably would still be standing there yaking if didn’t have someone picking me up at 11.

Kortright Hills Public School

Kathy Gossling-Spears struck me as one of those women who get things done.  The kind you’d want to have at your back when the chips were down. 

She managed somehow to get three copies of Porcupine and three copies of First Time when all the bookstores in the area were sold out. 

We had a lovely lunch together with her friend and a fellow writer and her cousin (whose name also eludes me, but who I meet this year outside of the Granville Island Hotel at the Vancouver International Writers Festival with Hal Wake.  I knew this writer was someone important and incredibly talented by the loving way his name rolled off of Hal’s tongue.  Nobody loves literature more than Hal. 

Anyway, this fabulously brilliant writer-dude guy apparently just won the Giller prize and not only that… he’s Kathy’s cousin!  Small word huh?  I’m glad he did, because he seemed nice when we met.  Not all full of pompous airs.  Real.

After lunch, we returned to the school, and how lucky these kids are.  This is a truly lovely school, with ivy painted on the pillars and artwork on the walls.  Very cozy and comforting, so much beauty and thought taken with the interior design.  Like the person who planned it, really loved children.

The kids were great!  Both talks, totally different, but wonderful in their own way.  Hands flying up, stories shared, questions asked.  Everyone loving and wanting to read the book, trying to talk me into writing more.  Very sweet.  I’m smiling at my computer as the memories of their faces dance around me. 

I left feeling knowing the tiredness would set in eventually, but for the time being, flying high.  What love came out of those shining faces.


And heres a photo of me, on the Greyhound bus at the end of the day. 

Snow was falling and it was really beautiful and peaceful.  The air pistons in the bus, inhaling and exhaling at regular intervals. 

On the freeway, the gentle whir of the tires, the lull of the road and distances to be travelled, and a dark car, maybe a Pontiac, started to skid and my heart caught in my throat.  He did two full loop-de-loops across four lanes of traffic, the last one easing, sort of in a sped-up-slow-mo only a few yards away from the front grill of our bus and landed slid to a landing half off and half on the sloping shoulder of the road.  I caught a glimpse of a pale faced dark haired young man, eyes dark as we flashed by, and then he was gone and there was only the road and the tires and the wheeze of the pistons.  The quiet drift of the falling snow.


Snapshot impressions

It’s now 12:23 am, so I’m going to just give you a tiny taste test, a few snapshot impressions of the last two days.

Valley Farm Public School

A cold day, the air so brisk my face feels like I’m standing too close to a bonfire.  Bright sunlight so when Sandra and I enter the school it looks dark, like the lights aren’t on, because my eyes are slow adjusting.  I see someone coming striding toward us like he was waiting for our arrival and I am stunned.  I was expecting Richard Reid, a middle-aged, thin, stork-like man with receding hairline, pale brown wispy disappearing hair and kind compassionate eyes.

Well, I got one thing right, the kind and compassionate eyes.  But I can’t even brag about that because I knew he really cared about the students at this school because we had exchanged a couple emails setting this up.

And we are shaking hands and I get such a good feeling from this guy and to be honest, for a flash my mind goes to my daughter, Emily.  (I can hear her groaning as she reads this)  and she’s probably totally right, but then I got it again in the library, watching him interact with the students, and the way that he did it was so natural, his goodness shining out and not in a goody-two-shoes way, but so organic, full of life.  That you couldn’t watch him for five minutes and not know how lucky this school is to have him as a teacher/librarian.  He obviously incredibly bright, forward thinking, urbane, compassionate, conscientious, not to mention, totally gorgeous.  And there is no way someone hasn’t snatched this guy up, but still, even as I left the school, I was wishing, just for a second that I lived in Pickering so I could arrange an accidental meeting and neither Emily or Richard would have to know that I was meddling. 

But lets be realistic.  I am 48 years old, and this is my very first visit to Pickering.  What’s the chances of me ever coming to Pickering again, let alone with my daughter?

Anyway, I left with that freckle of a regret, but that’s not all that I left with.  I left with the memory a great group of students, wonderful listeners with thoughtful questions.  I left with the memory of a strong handshake, an intelligent principal, and most of all I left with the memory of a student that spoke from the heart and broke mine open wide.

      * * *

Oh phooey… It’s 12:48 now and I wanted to say something about all of the schools, but I have a busy day tomorrow, three readings, ET Tonight, tentative evening plans, if I’m not too pooped.  I am going to have to be strict with myself and really do snapshot impressions, no matter how much I want to blather on.

Woodcrest Public School 

They were obviously expecting me.  A student host ( a budding writer to be and also the one who read a lovely introduction to my talk,) greeted Sandra and me and led us into the library where there was a lovely authors board with a hand drawn Porcupine and all sorts of Meg Tilly information.

AND… four students were decorating my name on a board with such care and exuberance that I needed to document it and Sandra (kind soul) got my camera that I had forgotten in the car, so here it is for all my bloggers to enjoy!


I had a great time at this school.  Two raucous, rowdy, fun-filled readings.  Which is amazing because I had been worried that I wouldn’t have enough energy, being so worn out from my bout of (what I thought was flu, but Don pointed out, was probably) food poisoning. 

We went into way deeper territory than I had expected with the older students.  It’s interesting how all the readings take on their own personality depending on who is in the room and what I feel needs to be said. 

I left with the memory of a beautiful green eyed woman with a soft sweater that matched her eyes.  She shared with me some of her reflections on this next phase of life that she’s already entered and I am about to.  What she said had such a true pure wisdom to it and it made me feel all hopeful and excited about what’s to come.

So, thank you to the Woodcrest students and staff, for embracing me and my stories so warmly.  You made me feel very welcome. 

One regret.  There were some of the kids in the younger grades reading that wanted me to sign bookmarks and they had to be cleared out because the next group was due to arrive and I said I would sign them for them before I left. 

I didn’t know that I had to leave right after the bell rang or I would miss my train back to Toronto which I couldn’t miss because then I’d miss the evening train that I had to catch to make sure I was in Guelph. 

As it was we zipped to the train station and arrived with only minutes to spare, the train to Toronto already in the station.

So, kids, if any of you are reading this, if you give your name and what class you are in to your teacher or Mrs. Packer, your librarian, she can email it to me and I’d be happy to sign a bookplate for you and send it back.

      * * *

Okay, I had big plans to write about my day today as well, but my eyes are starting to feel droopy, so I’m off to bed, and I’ll play catch up tomorrow.

Sweet dreams everybody.

Love, Meg xo





Hello everybody

I got back five hours ago and talked to my husband, answered some emails, checked what the markets did for the last few days while I have been zipping around all over the place on trains and buses and automobiles. 

Then I settled down to write a nice long cozy blog to you. 

BUT did that happen?


Why not, you might ask.

Well… Rog & Jim came home. 

“Hi,” I said, sticking my head out into the hall. 

“Oh, you’re back,” Rog (aka the polite one said)

“I have a bone to pick with you,” Jim (the rude one, in case you haven’t figured it out) bellowed.  “I want to show you something.”  And he grabbed my hand and high-stepped me into my bedroom.  “The windows won’t open, my ass,” he said, (or something to that ilk.)  He proceeded to show me, not one, but two windows that opened quite nicely, screens on them and everything.  I hadn’t noticed them because I had the blinds crooked shut. 

“Oh,” I said, trying to look contrite, but I’m afraid the effect was spoiled by the fits of giggles that had overwhelmed me.

“Did you mention how we took care of you?” he said, arm sweeping dramatically up into the air.  “That we raced to the corner store to get Sprite for you.”

“That we were so worried,” Rog pipes in. 

And they were worried.  I know they were.  Rog called 911 for God’s sake.  I’m barfing my guts out and other things too, but Rog has me on the phone with some long-winded nurse, when all I want to do is die, who was forcing me to talk through my pain and nausea to answer a million (and I am not kidding) questions.

“I know, I know,” I said, still unable to get control of my laughter.  “And you were so good to me, and I am grateful.”

“That’s not what you said on your blog,” Jim sniffed.  Hand held out towards me like a traffic cop, head averted, nose tipped towards the ceiling in a noble posture.

“I couldn’t write much,” I said deciding I better go for the sympathy angle, “I was so sick.  I just wrote what I did, so that people would know that I wasn’t faking it.”

“We didn’t cook our food on the stove top like we normally do,” Roger added.  “We micro-waved it, so there wouldn’t be as much smell.”

“And what about the jello I made for you,” Jim say in a woebegone voice, but already I can tell I am forgiven.

Actually.  For those of you who are new comers to my blog and don’t know my beloved Rog & Jim.  I was always forgiven.  This is just the way weird people (us) have fun.

ANYWAY… Rog & Jim, if you are reading this blog, thank you.  My Sunday/Monday torment, would have been a million times worse had you not been there.  You were my rocks and I owe you one.  You need a favor… consider it done!

            * * *

Okay.  Now I shall write what I was really going to write about before I was so rudely high-jacked, by my two, slightly tipsy B & B owners, forced to listen to their outraged tirade and then made to sit on the sofa and enjoy a drink and exchange unmentionable stories and howl with laughter for four hours until, finally a few minutes before midnight, I have managed to excruciate myself from all that fun and am blogging to you, before another couple days go by.  But I shall do it on another entry so this one won’t be too long and daunting.

And here’s the rub…

25 days ago, I mustered up my courage (because I am scared of needles) and marched myself into my doctors office and GOT a FLU SHOT!  Just because I was coming on TD Book Week and wanted to make sure that this kind of thing didn’t happen!

I got a flu shot and my arm got swollen and there was an inflamed lump in it that hurt for around a week, but I thought the sacrifice was worth it, because it would assure me good health for this very busy schedule. 

Phooey on flu shots!  This was the worst flu ever.

Well, the good thing is, you know I’m getting better if I have the energy to sit up and type this.  Thank goodness.

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