On The Road With Denny D

Sometimes we want to be loved so much that we become impressionable and fall for the illusion of it. We forget that in order to truly love and accept someone else we must first truly love and accept ourselves. It is not and ego thing,  it's a heart thing. Love doesn't tare down, it builds up. Love is not controlling, it is supporting. Love is not chosing sides and judging. Love dosen't make false illusions. Love is family, forgiveness, comfort and healing. Love is not one sided. Love is the big picture. The canvas of many colors. Pretending doesn't make it better. Faking it doesn't make it better. This only takes away our power and our years. When we become part of someone's agenda we get played. We polish our rose color glasses and hide the glaring truth we choose to ignore. Love is not one day down the road.  It's here and now, no matter how bumpy the road may be. Love is a gift. Not a wish.  The above photo I took looking out my living room wi...

One pane of glass. One red, white and blue basketball. And one frustrating day in the window repair business.    My father was very good at repairing windows. He had plenty of practice. Our backyard was our arena, our stadium and the scene of many sporting errors.  Who done it? It all started on our one-lane road.  Every homeowner could hear the crack of the bat and then the smash of a ball. Where it came from, no one knew. We split, leaving the bat suspended just above the dust cloud. Not a kid in sight. Who done it was an unsolved mystery. All they could see was the weapon, the bat, the ball and the glass now littering the living room floor. Opps Things were different in our backyard. A wayward slapshot way upstairs. Crash. A change-up and a foul tip. Smash. Today's error: a basketball. A hook shot, nothing but air and glass. Bang. Shortly after the initial impact we heard something else, my father cuss "Friggin Kids" It was the only f word my dad was all...

The other morning I sat in quiet contemplation which I do most mornings. I was sitting on the couch enjoying my morning coffee. I could  heard the chirp of a young bird. When I looked outside to pinpoint where noise came from, I saw a young Robin in our rose Sharon tree. The tree this year is larger than usual and provides just enough cover to protect my young friend. Luckily,  this tree is right infront of the picture window in our living room. So from the vantage point from the couch I can easily see him. I find the words living and room interesting.  A place to stretch out our wings and live. Everyone needs room to live. The rose of Sharon was a living room for my little feathered friend and I could see he wasn't strong enough to fly. Thoughtful segways: When legs are strong enough, hold on When wings are strong enough, let go. A bird will learn to fly but he must first learn to flutter, if not, he will never learn to land. Soar when you can,  rest w...

I would like to say that my mother loved to cook. I‘d like to say that. But I can’t. She didn’t. And I can’t blame her. When you have seven hungry kids and a husband to feed, you cook based on necessity rather than joy.  She had the book. The pages were dog-eared like our Sears wish list catalogue.  She wasn’t buying it, and we had to eat whatever she made. I remember one day that went wrong. The story is called…. The shoe and the spud My dad was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. My mother thought that  if liver was good enough for him, it was good enough for us kids . It is supper time, and I could smell the butter seared chopped onions and milk-drowned floured liver as it hung like a cloud above Buckingham Drive. We could all smell it. It was game over in more ways than one. If we had had clothespins for our noses, we could have kept playing. As I walked toward culinary doom, I could get a hint of a better dinner offering that lingered despite the overabundance ...

It's morning my father is either still sleeping or working. My mother never slept much so seeing her on the couch is no surprise.  My father's restless feet were so bad that he could have been paid overtime for working in his sleep. My mother had to resort to the couch. The couch is covered in quilts and throw pillows, provides very little comfort at all.  No one sleeps well on burlap. She is awake and I can tell she is praying. She smiles and nods lovingly.  Beside her is a flowery ceramic coffee cup. The cup has a word on it. That word is Meme' Grandmother. The coffee brand is called eight o'clock. I know this because I have to go to the A&P, grind it and bag it whenever she runs out. And because our house is the coffee shop for all wayward travelers, running out happens quite often. Surprisingly, the coffee tastes okay.     A steamy cup One day, she was gifted a Mr. Coffee machine. It was probably a gift from my father and after forgiving him f...

Road Trips: Auntie Aldoo's in Cottom Ontario. On the road with Denny D  Roads: Starting point.  Essex, Ontario, east down old number 3, to Cottom. Cottom Ontario is a fifteen-minute drive from home. We dropped the top on the bug to soak up some sun for our short drive. We arrive at a place I had discovered a few weeks back. Auntie Aldoo's Kitchen is Cottom's best-kept secret. It is not a secret anymore. There is a cute patio in front. This is where we are sitting today. My partner and I are enjoying a spinach quiche and a cup of coffee. I had to take a couple of bites before taking the picture. Yum. The combination of egg, cheese, spinach and flaky crust is delightful. The coffee is just as delicious.  Here's the kicker. One of the girls wasn't happy with the two macarons she had baked earlier gave them to us on the house. She didn't need to twist our arms much. Thank you so much. I will just say #OMG_Yummy. Sorry, no picture. I devoured ...

On the road with Denny D Camping: June 15th- 17th, 2025 Roads:  highway 46 east to Kent Rd. 3 to Blenheim highway 3 to Delhi north on 4 to highway 24 North towards Brantford. Right on Robinson Rd. to the end and left at the bend on Jennings Rd. Welcome to Brant Conservation Area. Day one We arrive around 3 pm and set up camp. Maple126 is a great site. Lots of space and plenty of shade.  We have a simple supper: sushi and spring rolls. Enjoy a couple of beverages and snacks while playing Mexican train dominoes.  Night one My job is fire starter. It has been a great first day, and I am determined to make it a great first night. The wood is not the best, but I get it going. I am holding a long tree branch, also known as a fire poker. This stick has travelled across Canada, and if it could talk, it would have some tall tales to tell. We call it a story stick. It is passed around the campfire, and each person who holds it must tell a story. My brother-in-law te...