He was crude, enormous, coarse; his fleshy hands had fingers like bananas. You could feel their weight in the way they swung at the end of his arms. Ridiculous that he should choose the Doll’s Flat for a home while he was grinding out the life of…
John was a young bachelor who for several years occupied my Doll’s Flat. One Christmas his mother sent him a plum pudding from England. It travelled in a white stone-ware basin, a perfect monster of a pudding. “Look at the thing!” John twirled it by its stained…
I hate pianos, tenants’ pianos. They can make a landlady suffer so hideously. Lumbering tanks awaiting the touch (often unskilled) that will make them spill horrible noise, spitting it through their black and white teeth. First the dreadful bump, bump of arrival, cruel gasps of men with…
hosted, designed & maintained by Marilyn Jones for the walks & talks, bus tours and presentations she offers on Emily Carr in-person and online from Victoria, BC.
