(Note: This post was written by Laurel Regan and originally published in a separate blog called “Why Windsor…”, which was later merged with Alphabet Salad.)
My weekly Windsor Square column has been posted:
Why Windsor:
It’s All About Perspective
Please take a look and let me know what you think!
Image courtesy of PunkToad on Flickr
There are many wonderful things about working from home, and some day when I have a bit more time I will write a whole post about them, but for now, here’s one of the BEST things [continue reading…]
Carrying on from yesterday’s post, Life in the blogosphere, I thought I’d follow up by sharing some of my own personal “rules” for being a good blogger:
[continue reading…]
Some random truths I’ve gathered throughout my years of blogging, some seemingly contradictory yet all accurate nonetheless, about life in the blogosphere: [continue reading…]
If you’ve taken a look at my blog’s layout, you might have noticed that I have a bit of a “thing” for vintage typewriters (as an aside, I suppose it’s valid to say that all typewriters are vintage, right?!).
[continue reading…]
I miss my piano.
My piano was an old, massive, dark brown Nordheimer passed down through a couple of generations until [continue reading…]
(Note: This post was originally published in a separate blog called “Why Windsor…”, which was later merged with Alphabet Salad.)
This is a guest post from my husband, Peter James.
I’m new to Windsor and love the adventure of finding stores and services that fulfill my desire to “shop locally.”
I’m determined to try as best as I can to keep money that I spend here in Windsor, here, and not give it to some large corporation based somewhere else. This, in my opinion, aids local businesses and therefore helps keep them successful as well as providing tax monies for the city. Plus, I’ve found that smaller business owners and staff will recognize me, provide more efficient, personal service, and make my day-to-day routines much more pleasant.
With that said, I would like to recommend a local pharmacy that has fulfilled all of my wants and been a very pleasant surprise.
I was wandering our neighbourhood (Walkerville) and came upon a complete gem of a find, namely, “The Olde Walkerville Pharmacy” at 1701 Wyandotte Street. Stepping in the door I was amazed at the atmosphere and character of the place: wood floors, spacious aisles, and a hearty, “How are you, sir?” greeting from the staff.
I asked the pharmacist, Francesco Vella (who was there and very friendly), about transferring my prescriptions from my pharmacy in Victoria to Windsor, and he said that it would be no problem. There was no hemming or hawing or excuses, and it was very refreshing. Since then I have had my prescriptions filled there and marveled at the speed and knowledge shown. The free delivery and service made this chore a real pleasure in that I feel someone knows my needs ahead of me.
Speaking to the staff I discovered that they will order supplies ahead of my requirements in an effort to provide seamless service. I’m not just a faceless group of prescription numbers on a computer, served by a person I’ll never know. Instead I’m a valued customer whose name and wants are remembered.
I have learned that large corporations are trying like the dickens to make life for small pharmacies harder and harder. This is a shame, in my opinion, as I feel these hometown business owners need support rather than red tape obstacles placed in their way.
This, and the wonderful service, are the reasons that I have brought my drugstore business to The Olde Walkerville Pharmacy.
I read your words,
delicately laced with warmth and beauty…
smart and innovative, building success upon success… [continue reading…]
Though I’m not really a green thumb, for many years I’ve wanted to have a small container herb garden. Unfortunately (or should I say unsurprisingly), one thing didn’t lead to another and [continue reading…]
(Note: This post was written by Laurel Regan and originally published in a separate blog called “Why Windsor…”, which was later merged with Alphabet Salad.)
My weekly Windsor Square column has been posted:
Please take a look and let me know what you think!
All throughout my life there have been things I claimed I could (or would) NEVER do. And when I said NEVER, I meant it in the most sure and certain way possible, accompanied by [continue reading…]
Today’s NaBloPoMo entry is posted on one of my other blogs:
Bacon, world peace, and chats with strangers
I invite you to drop by and visit me there!
(Note: This post was written by Laurel Regan and originally published in a separate blog called “Why Windsor…”, which was later merged with Alphabet Salad.)
One of the nicest ways to spend time on the weekend, I think, involves enjoying a) spending time with good company, b) a late breakfast at a cosy diner (which must include bacon and plenty of strong, hot coffee!), and c) a long, leisurely walk outside in the fresh air and sunshine.
Today was just such a day.
Around noon, my husband and I headed to one of our favourite Windsor eating places – Deb’s Diner on Ottawa Street – where for somewhere around $7.00 per person you can enjoy a yummy full breakfast (with bacon if you so desire… and really, who wouldn’t?!), lots of great coffee, and, if you’re lucky, some sass from Deb herself. The place was buzzing with plenty of fun and laughter, so we ended up lingering over our coffee for quite some time as we enjoyed being a part of it all.
Before we left we picked up a bag of Deb’s homemade “My Chips” to sample later in the afternoon, and oh my. I’d never tried them before, but I most certainly will again! They were crisp and lightly salted, not too greasy, and so very, very tasty… next time you’re at Deb’s Diner, please do yourself a favour and try some… they’re wonderful!
Afterwards we stopped at Reaume Park on Riverside Drive, where we enjoyed what had to be the most gorgeous sunny February afternoon ever. Once again I’m baffled by Windsor‘s “winter” (although I’ve been told that this year it’s been exceptionally mild), but I’m definitely not complaining!
I didn’t have a decent camera with me, but I did have my phone and was able to take a picture of the Peace Fountain monument so I could capture some words that affected me.
(Clicking on the picture will take you to Flickr)
In case this picture is too small for you to read, here’s what it says:
“PEACE FOUNTAIN”
Named in memory of CHARLES E. BROOKS
President of UAW Local 444 – died January 17, 1977Charles Brooks was both an outstanding trade union leader and community-minded citizen.
Among his many public-spirited interests was a keen desire for environmental improvement. He consistently supported every effort towards the creation of riverfront parks and in particular, this beautiful fountain. In addition, Charles Brooks was dedicated to the cause of world peace.
He firmly believed that trade unionists and all men and women of good-will should strive ceaselessly toward the abolition of war. Thus this magnificent water display is appropriately named Peace Fountain in his memory.
Charles E. Brooks sounds like my kind of person.
I wish I could have taken a picture of the floating Peace Fountain itself, but as we discovered in a later conversation (see below!), apparently it’s put into storage during the winter months because of ice buildup in the river. I can, however, link you to a great photo with writeup on Info Windsor. (Actually, now that I see the photo, I do believe I remember seeing the fountain in operation when we first came to Windsor on our house-hunting trip!)
As we stopped at the monument so that I could take the picture, we were approached by a woman who at first thought I was someone else, and with whom we ended up having a lovely 20-minute conversation. This is a typical example of the Windsorites we continue to meet time and time again – so incredibly friendly, chatty, down-to-earth, and approachable. And it’s not just because we’re newcomers and they’re trying to make a good impression, either – most of the time we’re well into our conversation before they find out that we’re not long-time Windsorites.
The longer I live in Windsor, the more I love it… the place, the people, the weather, everything. So glad to be here!
Today I braved the piles of cardboard boxes and basement miscellany (three months in and we’re still not fully unpacked) and dug out some books related to an interest I only began to pursue last year, back [continue reading…]
(Note: This post was written by Laurel Regan and originally published in a separate blog called “Why Windsor…”, which was later merged with Alphabet Salad.)
My weekly Windsor Square column has been posted:
Please take a look and let me know what you think!
We’ve lived in this house for just over three months now, the latest in a long line of residents who have called this place home over the past hundred years or so.
(One hundred years! I never thought I’d ever live in a place of that age, and sometimes wish the house could share its stories of all of those who came before. What an interesting conversation that would be!)
From the outside, our house doesn’t have much in the way of curb appeal. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not ramshackle or neglected. It’s a solid, sturdy house, well kept and in good condition for its age, but with a face of grey block only the builder could have loved.
Inside, though, it’s a different story. Our house retains its original character in the hardwood floors, high ceilings and beautifully-carved wooden banister, while some high-efficiency upgrades, an updated bathroom, and a beautifully finished attic let us know that it’s been lovingly tended throughout the years by its previous denizens.
Our house is by no means perfect. The walls have very little insulation, which means that there are times when the heater is going full-blast in order to provide enough warmth. The stove and cooktop, while functional, are from another decade entirely, as are the kitchen’s painted wooden cupboards. The “second bathroom” is a shower at one end of the basement, a washbasin that’s actually part of the laundry area, and a toilet on the far wall, separated from the rest of the basement by a light wooden fabric-covered frame. The stairs are creaky, the garage leaks, and the upstairs carpet needs to be replaced.
Yet far more than either of our previous homes, my husband and I have fallen in love with this house.
Perhaps it’s because, though we’re on a narrow city lot and therefore extremely close to the houses on either side, for the very first time all four walls are ours, completely detached from those of our neighbours.
It could be that it’s purely practical: we can see ahead to a time in our lives when it will be fully paid for.
Maybe it’s the character, the heritage, the lives that were lived within these walls that make us feel like a special part of history.
Or maybe it’s because living here is teaching us that something can be imperfect, yet still be very, very good.
The other day we were returning from an evening out and as we drove up our street, for the first time since we’ve been here I felt a little thrill as I saw our house and realized, “We’re home!”
Home, indeed.
Dear friends,
I want you to know that I am grateful to and for you.
Whether you read my words and quietly lurk
Or share my posts with others
Or take the time to write a comment
Thank you for being here.
Whether you just happened to drop by today
Or you’re a brand new friend
Or you’ve been around for awhile
Thank you for being here.
Whether you only visit occasionally
Or subscribe to my blog and read every new post
Or catch up with me on Facebook or Twitter
Thank you for being here.
Whether I know you online
Or in “real life”
Or perhaps not at all, yet
Thank you for being here.
You are the reason I am motivated to continue writing and to share my thoughts here, instead of simply keeping a private journal.
Thank you for being here.
