麻豆传媒AV

A year after I returned from Novitiate as an Oblate I went back home for my brother's wedding.

It was a subtle but nonetheless a genuine staring match. Hubbie and I were having lunch at his favourite fast-food outlet when I saw two men come in, buy a coffee and sit down.

I admit that growing old(er) isn't easy for me. In spite of numerous health issues, I've always kept busy, owned and operated my own business for more than a decade and been involved in a number of community and non-profit activities.

An egomaniacal character in the T.V. show Harry's Law said, "I don't know which is worse, to wake up and realize you're not what you used to be or knowing you're still what you always were." In real life our time is now; this is not a rehearsal.

An old miser at last went to his reward and St. Peter escorted him to his new abode. Walking past numerous elegant mansions they finally arrived at a dilapidated old shack at the end of the street.

Last week I received a copy of a publication in which one of my weekly articles appeared.

Once again we Canadians have the privilege of collectively celebrating Thanksgiving.

The old fellow was on his death bed when he suddenly smelled the scent of fry-bread wafting into his room. He loved fry-bread. With his last bit of energy he went into the kitchen. There was his wife kneading the dough for a new batch.

There are four grocery stores where I live: one belongs to a North American chain of stores, one to a prominent Western Canada group of companies, one to a smaller but growing Vancouver Island-based company and the other, one of the earliest independ

An artist asked the gallery owner if there had been any interest in his paintings on display at that time. "I have good news and bad news," the owner replied.