House, I have gone to bed in your attic crying with smart and hurt as though I had been a hen under whose wing hornets had built their nest and stung me every time I quivered a feather. House, I have slept too in your attic, serene as a…
The attic was no older than the rest of the house. Yet, from the first to me it was very old, old in the sense of dearness, old as the baby you hug and call “dear old thing” is not old in years, but just in the way he…
Sometimes I rented suites furnished, sometimes unfurnished, according to the demand. Two things every tenant provided for himself–sound and silence. His own personality manufactured these, just as he stamped his imprint on every inch of his environment, placing his furniture just so, hoisting and lowering his window blinds straight…
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.
