Village Picnic
Blazing Community Spirit - A recently divorced mother and her ten year old son move from Sherwood Park to the small village of Holden, Alberta.
Friendships and romance develop while they enjoy the village lifestyle.
My first book, Blazing Community Spirit is available on amazon for $17.
The Brothers of McCauley, Edmonton - David is opening a cannabis cafe on 98th Street. His younger brother Peter is a pastor who works at a drop-in centre on 96th Street. Their friend Ryan is the proprietor of a vintage furniture shop in Little Italy on 95th Street. David and Peter's cousin Kees is visiting from Holland during a pivotal summer in their lives.
My second book, The Brothers of McCauley, Edmonton is available on amazon for $12.
My third book: Fartknocker! Dunbar takes Vegreville will be released in 2026. I am very excited about the direction my writing is taking. This is just the first draft.
There are things we know about Dunbar Fardknocker. For example, his grandfather told him that they were actually the Fartknockers, but an official at customs and immigration decided to change it to a more appropriate Canadian form. His grandfather had told him this on one of their fishing trips. Of course, there are things we do not know about Dunbar Fardknocker, although nothing that couldn't easily be invented by the author. Today, Dunbar was feeling humiliated. He stared out the part of the school bus window that he had cleared the ice from. He thawed an additional area with his thumb, and then used his nails to scrap the window. It was slushy work. Dunbar wanted to see more. The bus lurched forward, travelling on roads that traffic had kept clear of snow, two clear laneways for each tire. The rest of the road, and the sidewalks and houses of Edmonton were covered in snow. For Dunbar it was all the same. Between his teacher's nagging that he address the math problems as laid out, his mother's insistence at home that he do his homework first - "You will appreciate this when you have a good job as an adult" - he felt like he had no refuge that was truly his. Other than his grandfather's twelve foot rowboat. Dunbar spent last summer with him at Moose Lake. His grandfather has a lakefront trailer with three bedrooms, with the rowboat they used for fishing dragged up the shore. Dunbar's fair German skin - Fardknocker was originally a German surname - was golden brown like a bag of brown sugar and he spent hours everyday in that boat - catching up to their limit. "That's the secret your mama won't tell yah" his grandfather told him squarely. "If you are smart, you never will have to work. Not at school, not too much. Not as an adult either. There are lots of ways to be lazy, and be proud of it. For generations people have had to work like dogs. So I'm going fishing today." His grandfather laughed, a great big chuckle as his eyes glistened as he surveyed the waters of Moose Lake. He was a decidedly overweight man, blue eyes with blonde hair turned white by the sun. Later, he would drive Dunbar into Bonnyville for an ice cream cone. When Dunbar looked back on the Albertan summer, early days in the boat, evenings in the hammock between a couple of black aspen, it was just one continuous delight after another. He met a couple friends in that subdivision, friends that didn't know him from school. At school things were tough. Dunbar thought grade seven would be better. He was in high school now. Except apparently the bullies just got bigger. This one guy has a full mustache! Anyway he felt humiliated today. The teacher in science class had asked, "What is the scientific word that defines any living thing or creature?" Dunbar had actually reviewed this the previous night with his mother watching over his shoulder. "An orgasm!" he called out. The teacher's face went white. "I think you mean an organism," she explained as the class all laughed at him. Even the cool guys who always sit at the back and don't pay attention, apparently they were paying attention to that.
"Bought this fifty-three International Harvester to haul coal
Blue, rusted, and dented, it is a beast most powerful
Hauling fuel for my greenhouse, down Bruce Road
Smooching and snuggling while filling up the load"
- Bruce Road poem
A Cabin in St. Paul County
When the work’s all done, I'm gonna take you away
To a special kind of place I know, down the highway
The mallard is so big it could pick you up in its bill
On through Shandro, and past the church on the hill
I'm gonna take you to my parents’ cabin at the lake
We have worked so hard, and it is time for a break
I'm gonna take you out to Saint Paul County
Where the poplars tremble and the fish always bite
Roast marshmallows on the fire and tell you a story
Laying on the beach watching the stars shine so bright
Taking out the rowboat, there are islands to explore
I am the captain and I navigate toward the shore
Muskrats swimming and geese sitting in their nests
Pulling the boat up the beach and taking off our vests
Venturing inland, discover secret raspberry patches
Behind the willows near the towering pine and birches
I'm gonna take you out to Saint Paul County
Where the poplars tremble and the fish always bite
Roast marshmallows on the fire and tell you a story
Laying on the beach watching the stars shine so bright
Waking up in the loft to the sound of songbirds
Is a special kind of thing too delicate for words
Remember my dad building a trail through the aspen grove
From the old red barn on the hill to the other cove
Remember picking my mom a bouquet of flowers from the ditch
Sweet clover, foxtail barley, purple, blue, and yellow vetch
I'm gonna take you out to Saint Paul County
Where the poplars tremble and the fish always bite
Roast marshmallows on the fire and tell you a story
Laying on the beach watching the stars shine so bright
This is a poem I wrote today April 11, 2026. I wanted to write something
about those perfect summer days now that spring is approaching.
The melting snow is always exciting after a long winter. Upon realizing
that county fair rhymes with teddy bear, I knew I had something good.
Jimmy, the red-headed boy, and Ted, the town's greatest bear!
A red-headed boy and his brown teddy bear
Face tanned in the sun, eyes a vibrant blue and grey
On the Ferris wheel at the Suffolk County Fair
Since the snow first melted, this has been the greatest day
No chores to be done, a day free with no care
Ride operator didn't even make the smart teddy pay
He rolled his eyes back and played dead
Jimmy dragged the limp bear into his seat
The bar came down to keep secure Jimmy and Ted
Now they are ninety feet up, a view that can't be beat
From Beaver Lake all dried up, the packers that process meat
the railway snaking its way through the farmland
Like the concepts taught that escape Jimmy's mind
Soon it will be autumn, things need to be pickled and canned
Harvest in the garden, then returns the school grind
August afternoon at the Suffolk County Fair
Suns blazing, cotton candy, girls in halters and boots
Horses strutting, Ted loves a certain Appaloosa mare
Politician at the grandstand talking about the grassroots
Jimmy with a big smile as they come down
Ted talking fast, without moving his lips
So nobody knows Jimmy has the best teddy bear in town
Ted tells him he used to work as a travel agent planning trips
But figured he'd make more at birthday parties as a clown
Goes to cash his paycheck at the moment they're getting robbed
dressed in a big colourful wig, white face paint, big red shoes
"No, you don't understand, I'm not with them," he sobbed
Given bags of money, he ran, not sure of the legal views
Now he is retired officially, but dreams of running a little cafe
All details Ted reassures Jimmy of on this hot summer day
Getting off the Ferris Wheel at the Suffolk County Fair
Jimmy, the red-headed boy, and Ted, the town's greatest bear!
I was living in an Eastwood walk-up bachelor suite
Chapter One
The neighbours wake me up to a yelling match. The man is, apparently, a lazy, unemployed, son-of-a-bitch, who spends his time drinking beer instead of sending out his resume, while she has been repeatedly accused of screwing around with a different man. The soap opera goes on, through the paper-thin walls of my second-floor suite in the cockroach-infested three-storey walkup just up the street from the Eastwood Freshco on Edmonton's northside. I stumble into my bathroom, a tiny compartment with a shower I can't actually turn around in, a toilet with the sink seemingly on top of it, with just enough room to stand between. I open the mirror and reveal a medicine cabinet. Opening a bottle of Advil and taking out two pills, I go into my kitchen, and see everything is a mess, with dirty plates and a bowl half full of cereal and milk, and a frying pan still with bacon grease dried up thickly. I take a glass from the countertop and fill it with tap water. I have a throbbing headache from my hangover, but these pills should help in roughly twenty minutes. I go back into my bedroom, where my double bed takes up most of the room. There is a television set up on a table. I bought the tv and the table it came with at the Brick down in McCauley. It was the showroom model, so apparently I got a deal on it. Frankly, I struggle to negotiate.
I put my head on the pillow and try to forget the pulse I can feel in my head, reminding me over and over that this is the punishment for drinking. We had been up all night. Darcy and Terry Plymouth, brothers I know from high school, met with me at Mona Lisa's down 118th Avenue. The Oilers were playing the Red Wings. It went to a shootout, and when McDavid scored to win it, the bar was roaring. Darcy wins fifteen hundred bucks on a VLT, and after the game Terry and I are standing outside in the early summer air, waiting for Darcy to get his cash from the server. Terry lends me a cigarette - I had quit for a week before I started drinking that night. As we are smoking outside the bar, watching a bus stop on 118th Avenue and letting out a few people, a woman strikes up a conversation with us. She is petite in a black tube top, with long, flowing brown hair, and is supported by oversized heels that make her seem of average height. Her friend is wearing a white tank top with a red push-up bra showing her breasts and jeans showing off her delicate rear. I had been checking her out before, inside the bar, where she had been playing pool with her friend. She had been dramatically stretched out across the table, making her shot, and I am enthralled. She has pouty lips, long blonde hair, and mesmerizing blue eyes that flicker as she ashes her cigarette.
"Are you guys taking off now that the game is over?"
The woman in the black tube top expresses interest in talking to us.
"Yeah, I think we're heading out."
"Too bad. I'm Theresa, and this is Fern," the woman says, pointing to her friend.
I got a half-empty Molson Canadian in my right hand as I put my left hand to my mouth, sucking back the cigarette. I am wearing my Montreal Expos shirt and my most expensive jeans. I have a mop of brown hair that needs cutting, but I am clean-shaven with a friendly grin. I check out the woman in the white tanktop and red push-up bra, but she is coolly acting unimpressed, blowing her smoke upwards and acting bored.
Darcy comes out of the bar. He is a well-built man with broad shoulders, wearing a tight T-shirt that shows off his muscular arms.
"Alright, boys, figure we head downtown to the Earlington," Darcy says, referring to the glamorous nightclub on Jasper Avenue.
"Theresa, what are you guys doing tonight? Want to go to the Earlington?" I ask optimistically.
Fern sighs audibly and looks away. She is smouldering. I can't get over how effortlessly gorgeous she is, while she leans against the wall, looking just slightly angry. She doesn't want to be there, on 118th Avenue with a few construction workers who haven't seen the alluring features of an attractive woman all week. Clearly, she doesn't notice me at all.