On May 10th, I turned seventy six years old. I never thought about becoming seventy six, it just happened. It was like becoming ten, then twenty one, or for that matter, seventy five. I’ve met people who became this age before I did, and it seemed to have either a special meaning for them, or they weren’t looking forward to it. I can’t remember looking forward to any particular age, because I’ve never had any preset idea about how I was going to feel or look. I take my life as it has happens.

Looking around, I think that I must be doing things right, because I’m still blessed to have most of my Continue reading »

When I was about 14 years old, my brother Jim had gone to work at Norm and Alf Strom’s Tabor Creek Saw Mill, on the south side of Tabor Mountain. Our mother, being tired of trying to support the remaining three of us boys on a waitress’s wage, took a job in the kitchen at the mill. Bud and Bruce, the two youngest boys, went out to live with our sister Betty and her husband Pat, at Aleza Lake. I was in grade eight, and had to go to high school in Prince George, so mother boarded me out on the Burns Farm. It was about two miles from the mill, and I rode the school bus back and forth. Now, at this point in my life, sawmills and trucks were looking a lot more appealing to me.

On this particular day, my timing was right, and Continue reading »

Over the past fifteen or twenty years, everyone’s been worrying about global warming. Now, it’s been in the back of my mind as well, every since a teacher in grade five started teaching us about the ice age, and what the world was like before it started warming up.

One thing I did learn in school, and from my seventy five years living on the planet, is that it has been changing every since, and this process has taken untold thousands of years. So, why did the human race only start trying to stop, what appears to be a natural phenomenon, a couple of decades ago?

I know we haven’t treated our old world as well as we should have. We’ve expelled untold amounts of Continue reading »

Having lived in Prince George for a good part of my seventy five plus years, like dandelions, I have become used to potholes, because they are both a part of Prince George, and we shall never completely be rid of them. In the early days, long before the streets were paved, when the snow melted in the spring, it left puddles of water on the roads. Then, as the cars ran through the puddles, they’d wash the sand, gravel and silt off to the side, creating a depression. The faster and heavier the traffic, the deeper the hole would continue to get.

I remember in the early 1950’s, when the pavement on Third Avenue ended about where the Friendship Centre is today. A big water hole would form there just about every spring, and what great fun it was for Continue reading »

Mel McConaghy’s thoughts on growing older and losing your memory.

Almost half a decade ago, long before I retired, I was at the card lock in Abbotsford, fueling up, as was my routine every Saturday while I waited for my turn to load. After I’d finished fueling and checking over my outfit, I went into the office and had a cup of coffee with Dennis, another old guy who worked there. In the process of telling him a little tale, I had a problem remembering a fellow’s name. The resulting silence turned the conversation to memory, or the lack of it. One of our other drivers, who happened to be there at the same time, said, “Let’s face it Mel, you’re getting old and you’re losing it.” I stood there for a Continue reading »

The shuttle drove us from the airport, to where the cruise ship was docked, and then sat there. A lovely young lady got on the bus at 12:30, and told us that there’d be more of a delay, so we sat. After an eternity, they finally unloaded us. Now, the last time I’d seen the little old gray haired lady with the cane, she’d gotten her bag, and was sprinting toward a big building. She was trucking along at such a rate of speed, with that cane viscously held forward like a jousting lance, that I’m sure I saw smoke coming off the little wheels on her suitcase. I don’t think they were engineered, or Continue reading »

Finally clearing security, we boarded the aircraft and flew out of Vancouver on our way to Los Angeles. I noticed that instead of a pleasant and pretty stewardess who smiled a lot, we had a very large and less than attractive steward, who reminded me of the wrestlers I used to watch on television. By this time I was getting a little peckish, so I mustered up enough courage to ask ‘Moose’ about when they would be serving breakfast. Towering over me, he gave me a cold look and Continue reading »