Friday May 24, 2013




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    Comment and Commentary from a Prairie Perspective
    By William Wardill
    William Wardill of Eatonia still lives where he was born 83 years ago. A virtuous old sage with a wicked wit, he became an omnivorous reader almost as soon as he learned the alphabet. He read about the First World War when still a child and was almost old enough to enlist in the Second World War. His boyhood was spent in a safe passage through the Dirty Thirties. Since earning a university degree in history and English in 1991, he has published numerous columns, articles and books, including a novel in 2010. His work is coloured by small town living, ecological concerns and a belief in a personal obligation to community.

Conversation coamouflage

Anybody with even a smattering of learning knows that camouflage of the optical variety is the art...

Surmounting a hundred impertinent obstructions

Back in the middle of the 18th century, the Scots, who had already invented numerous beneficial...

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Sometimes the noise of regurgitated TV programs is interrupted by advertising. A burst of...

Who is negotiating what?

Before the world staggered into the Great Depression, I was an infant, aware of little beyond my...

Brave and gallant youths fought in many battles

Years ago in Eire, the guide on a tour bus, who claimed to be an Irish Catholic married to a...

How to have fun with scammers and telemarketers

A few days ago an amateurish scammer picked me for a target. The email message originated from a...

No affection for urban deer herd

When I was an innocent little shaver, I believed Santa Claus came to our house every Christmas Eve...


The power of symbols

Scientists once flirted with the idea that the first internecine warfare was between Homo...

Crush twenty cloves of garlic

Garlic is a venomous vegetable which kills all the organisms that make human beings sick. It also...

Time is not ripe for NHL in Saskatchewan

Years ago, when Saskatchewan was less populous and prosperous than it is now, Bill Hunter, of...

We need new thinking, new practices

Earlier this week, when thumbing without purpose through cable channels, I chanced upon a program...

My name isn’t Ralphie

The movie in which Ralphie has a desperate desire to own a Red Ryder BB gun has become a Christmas...

The last of the saddlebag preachers

When the Big War ended, Saskatchewan was poised on the edge of sweeping change, but there were...

The more we get together

I was born on the 23rd day of September, 772 days before the first plutocrat, as Winston Churchill...

There has always been a garden

Last year I hired a happy limb-walker to remove a towering spruce tree that had become a danger to...

A sea of trivialities

The boss of the Bank of Canada has apologized for putting an Asian face on a $100 bill, or for...

Why do they sing through their noses?

Kay Parley is a colleague who wanders through the same misty corridors of the past where I often...

The Christian Taliban

On a damp and dreary Sunday in July, I am irritated by the memory of the persons who decided I was...

A part of what was, is and will be

One week ago, I was an invited guest to an open house at a place on the prairie which has captured...






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