Today is my Gran's birthday. I won't disclose how old she is, but she's got the spirit, sense of humour and wit of a 20-year-old. Born in England, my Gran eventually moved to the Yukon where she raised two boys, learned to make bannock (traditional native bread), ice fish, hunt and run sled dogs. Years later, she wound up in Brockville where she worked at the hospital for many years until she retired. I still remember going in to visit her at her post on switchboard. She lived on Pearl Street then with a grumpy, old cat named Frisky. I loved going to Gran's house because she always had apple juice in these tiny little cans. I remember playing with her tupperware and on her exercise bike, which I would later inherit. Her house on Pearl was sweet because it was on the Christmas-parade route. My sister and I would just sit on her front step and watch, moving to the curb occasionally to get candy from the clowns. She moved to Park Street, which was also nice because it was across from Cowan's Dairy and the best ice cream in town. Now she lives at Sherwood Park Manor where she's made some friends, is well cared for and has daily visits from her gal pal, Inger. Today my parents brought her coffee from Tim Horton's and treats from Tait's Bakery on King. For my birthday in July, I got a birthday book from my friend Theresa. So Gran, here's a bit of what it says about you.
"Although you are charming and friendly, the urge for action and personal accomplishment revealed by your birthday suggest that you are a strong-willed and ambitious individual. With a quick grasp of a situation, you prefer to be honest and straightforward."
Happy Birthday, Gran! I wish I was there to celebrate with you.