Hello again,

Yesterday saw the Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camila. No matter what you think of the Royal Family, my mum is a big fan. She was born in England and was there to see the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, at least on TV. I was also born in England. My dad brought us to Canada in 1958, and my mum and I have been here ever since. She was hoping to get up early (3:00 am!) to see the ceremonies, but did wake up early enough to see the the coach ride and the wave from the balcony of Buckingham palace, and saw the rest as it was repeated during the day. This was followed by watching the Edmonton Oilers beat the Las Vegas Golden Knights in game two of their second round of their Stanley Cup duel. My mother, somewhat unexpectedly, has become a vociferous hockey fan, and with the Jets being eliminated in the first round, she is now focused on the remaining Canadian teams. Whenever a fight breaks out she calls, in no uncertain terms, for our player to bash the other player using language which I am not accustomed to hear her speak.

Before resolving the cliffhanger I left left with you last time, I have to make known that my first post on May 3 was a bit messed up. I inadvertently left left the template text that was, I assume, automatically put in as a kind of guide. Well, let me assure you Chapters One and Two were not of my making, and as good as they may be, I do not claim ownership.

This, as you may assume, was a most embarrassing oversight. One which, in my other life as a novelist and short story writer, is one of the terrors of my trade. That is, sending an editor the wrong file, and not only the wrong file but a file full of so many errors it lands in the waste basket without another thought.

So, with my apologies, please disregard said Chapters One and Two.

And with that I will rest and resume the story of what befell my mother on the morning in which she awoke in a state of confusion so dire I had to take her to the hospital.

But let me conclude with this:

“Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They drink. They leave.” – Readers Digest