The Street - A Composite Sketch (17)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the Seventeenth part of the anatomy of The Street.

Few people spoke to them. For years, in fact, after they took possession of their new house. Simply put, they lived within, seldom to be seen without. Slipping from house directly to garage. To drive to work, then reverse the process. Three; husband, wife, son. Her son, from a previous, unfortunate marriage. An abusive man she was finally glad to see the last of. While her son was yet young, she met the man who would become his step-father at their mutual place of employment.

It always distressed her that her son and her husband, from the time he was eight, and she married her new husband, disliked one another. It was a first-time marriage for him. They had no children together. Only her son, who had a rebellious, sometimes selfish streak that she feared he had inherited from his father. She had the feeling her son disdained his step-father, as a second-generation Pole; his own father, like her, was old-stock Anglo.

By the time he was twelve, he was nudging 6 feet. A burly, muscular boy. She had to constantly remind him to be aware of his strength. In face-offs with other boys at school he sometimes forgot. Which was generally when school authorities would contact her. Sometimes week-long suspensions would result. Not always his fault, she knew. He did not, necessarily, go looking for trouble. Others would provoke him, taunt him about his size and clumsiness, exhaust his already-sparse patience.

Basically, he was a good boy. He respected his mother, even while he disparaged - quietly most often, to himself - his step-father. They simply irritated one another. The step-father did not ever assert his adult authority over the boy, wisely leaving that to his wife. Knowing if he attempted to exercise authority he would be ignored, in any event. Even when the boy once set the kitchen afire - fortunately discovered early and damage kept to a minimum - in their old home, he did his best to remain mutely in the background.

Which doubtless infuriated the boy all the more. His mother finally sought professional counselling for her son, and that helped straighten him out. By the time they moved into their new home he was in high school. He was a fair enough student, although he saw little value to himself personally in the formal education system. Both his parents worked for Oracle, a large U.S.-based business-application software group.

The husband was estranged from his remaining parent, his father, as were his siblings, all of whom detested the man. He had been a sternly controlling tyrant when they were young. They had feared him, and resented his manner with their mother, since deceased, who cowered under him. She saw to it, however, that his father became an honoured guest in their home. Inviting him over often for Sunday dinner, finally reconciling father and son, something she was never able to accomplish between her husband and her son.

Her mother had been morbidly obese, and had died of a heart attack, while still relatively young. Her brother had Aspergers syndrome, lived quietly on his own, unemployable, a beneficiary of their mother's estate. Her sister, who had a medical condition that she knew might overtake her at any time nonetheless drove her six-year-old child to an outing, and blacked out while driving, causing a calamitous crash with tragic consequences.

One that deprived her of her little girl, killed instantly; caused spinal and brain damage to herself, which years of medical intervention and physiotherapy had alleviated. She was, however, confined to a wheelchair for the most part, and in it, she became fairly corpulent. She was determined, along with her architect husband, to have another child, and they attempted adoption, but were turned down time and again, her condition cited as reasonable grounds for refusal.

When the wife of our duo decided to take early retirement along with a tidy retirement package urged on her by her employer, she began to appear outside her home, enabling neighbours finally to approach and proffer friendly overtures. And she was gradually and gratefully drawn into the life of the street. Not in a manner that she could become active in any way in the neighbourhood, since she had her family's affliction, and was horribly obese, completely rotund.

Some of the other women on the street, those who stayed at home to look after their children, would come over to her house and sit out with her, chatting. Awaiting the arrival of their children back from school. She had initially attracted some of the women by her penchant for collecting jewellery from eBay, having succumbed to the lure of the charge she enjoyed when she bid successfully on items. She never wore any of that jewellery, sold it at minimal cost to the other women.

She had always liked cats and eventually adopted two, a delicate black-and-white female first, then a large orange Maine Coon cat. The little one was permitted to roam freely, the pedigreed one was allowed out of doors only on a secure lead, in her presence. Then came a third cat, a common tabby, and it too was permitted to go about on its own. But she did value them all, and her patient husband emitted no hint of unease at their presence.

He began, in fact, increasingly to travel. All over the U.S., sometimes having to remain for months at a time on special assignments, coming home intermittently. When he was home he was the perfect husband, considerate and helpful. He never, ever smoked in the house, only outside. He would occasionally cook with his wife; they both enjoyed cooking, finding new recipes, experimenting with different, occasionally exotic and extravagant ingredients.

And they enjoyed eating out. Sometimes making such occasions family events, inviting his father, her brother, and their son. They all shared an enormous appetite for good food. Actually, for any food. Although she was a consummate cook and was well aware of what constituted good nutrition, often when he was away she would order fast food delivered to the house. Telling herself that it wouldn't hurt to have it once in a while. Even when 'once in a while' occurred frequently.

As the son matured he had a circle of friends who, like him, decided not to complete high school, and to strike out on their own, taking casual jobs. He also had the occasional girlfriend, acquiring a busy social life, although he and his mother did not always view his choices favourably. He had established contact with his father, whom he occasionally visited, and they got on fairly well together.

The boy had always been computer literate and adept, and his father encouraged him to take computers apart, put them together, produce his own combinations and software, as well. He hadn't the typical geek personality, unlike his step-father. He was gregarious and emphatically loud. His booming voice matching his huge physical presence. By the time he was prepared to join the permanent workforce he considered himself well prepared to present his casually-acquired technical qualifications.

He did have a succession of fairly good starter positions. But for one reason or another, he never stuck with them. He would somehow manage to insult people, or feel he had been insulted, and feel compelled to leave, or he would be dismissed. Sometimes clients would complain to his employers that he was too forceful, too loud, that his manner made them fearful. Simply perception; it was his way to be loud and emphatic. He found it difficult to contain himself, to tone down his excesses. His too-confident, and loud manner offended.

By then he was driving a sporty late-model car with a special paint job, and his mother had helped him into a very nice house of his own, packed with electronics, up-to-date appliances, good quality furniture. Oh, and a kitten. Oh yes, a live-in partner as well. A very attractive young women, lithe and blond whom his mother took under her wing, to teach her the basics of good cuisine, inducting her into the cult of the informed, capable cook. And housekeeping, that too.

Coming from a materially and culturally deprived background, once scathingly described as 'poor white trash', the girl seemed willing enough, and the woman lavished gifts on her. She wanted her son to have someone with whom he could be happy, although she wasn't quite convinced he would find happiness with this young woman. Still, because this was her son's choice, she opened her arms to the girl. It was something to see them together, the delicate tall young woman and the horribly obese older woman.

Her weight, in fact, worried her, even while she did nothing whatever to diminish it. She suffered from high blood pressure and from depression, and took medication for both. She worried herself sick about acquiring diabetes; her doctor had told her she was 'pre-diabetic'. Heart problems like her mother, another concern. She worried too about her husband. Merely excessively overweight, but he began experiencing health problems, became balance-impaired, some inner-ear thing.

They cut out sugar, used artificial sweeteners. No more white flour, white bread, rice, pasta, pastries. Too little too late. It was not necessarily what they ate but the prodigious amounts that they normally consumed. They simply could not envision themselves subsisting on 'small', portions inadequate to their appetites. So he was also diagnosed with high blood pressure and high cholesterol levels, and took medication accordingly, and cheerfully.

Their son's kitten grew into a cat, one that roamed widely. He was distraught when, one night, it failed to return home. Eventually he replaced it. When he discovered that his live-in girlfriend, with whom he had experienced several partings and reconciliations resulting in tearful reunions, was having an affair with his best friend, father of a young child, it was enough. She left, he was disconsolate; she defiant.

Her lover left his partner and child for her. The affair did not last, however. His sense of self-preservation kicking in, he refused, though it pained him, to restore her to his affections and his home. He has since attempted to replace her, but succeeding candidates, both from good backgrounds, backed off before matters proceeded to the serious level of accommodation. His mother is wondering whether she will ever have grandchildren.

His rash impulses led him to challenge another motorist to a street race which caused an accident resulting in slight injury to the other motorist. He was charged with dangerous driving, attended court, had his license suspended for a year. And honoured that suspension. Later taking possession of a more powerful vehicle, a late-model, second-hand BMW which he coddled and took great pride in. And drove responsibly, not wishing a repeat of his previous stupidity.

His step-father fears that with the global economic downturn his job may be imperilled. That has not yet occurred. When he is at home he tends faithfully to his wife, presenting her with tea in pretty porcelain cups, driving her to the veterinarian clinic and the pet food stores on week-ends, with her beloved pets. She still has a pretty face, regardless of the weight. She is a decent and kind person, exudes warmth and kindness.

They remain a firm fixture on the street. The husband has decided he will learn to mow the lawn himself, no longer hire someone to do it, nor remove the snow from the driveway in winter. He will, henceforth, do these tasks. Time for belt-tightening; funds becoming scarcer. Not the other kind of belt-tightening, however.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld

The Street - A Composite Sketch (16)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the Sixteenth part of the anatomy of The Street.

They were older when they married, than most of their generation. Why she hadn't married earlier than he, however, was a mystery. She was pretty, personable, gregarious and best of all, had a thousand-watt smile that brilliantly illuminated her presence. She was lively, enthusiastic, eager for all that life and her future might promise. Her father was in the armed services, and the family had moved often. She had seen something of the world.

Her father was a typical Anglo-Canadian, her mother francophone. Never was French spoken at home, so she and her sister never learned to speak, much less understand French. She always said that it was because, at that time in the history of the Canadian Armed Forces, the French were denigrated, discriminated against. As a young adult, still living at home with her parents and younger sister, she too joined the forces, trained as a dental assistant.

She was a tall young woman, brunette and full-figured unlike her mother who was small-boned with blond hair, who had been a hairdresser. Whenever her parents visited, in their mobile home, her mother would perm her daughter's lovely long hair. The young woman's husband was quite like her physically; tall, broad, good-looking. And there the similarity ended; he was her personality polar-opposite.

Reserved, introspective, socially maladroit. He would go out of his way not to be noticed. Shy, she said, if anyone ever commented. Rude, they would mutter under their breath, a social misfit. His anti-social mannerisms gained him neither respect nor friends when, newly married, they bought their house on the street. She was good-hearted, would go out of her way for people, and always cheerful; he dodged contact.

People soon learned to expect no neighbourliness from him, observing how he would cross the street to avoid greeting someone. His next-door neighbour once seeing her using an inexpensive garden tool asked if he might try out its effectiveness before committing to purchasing one of his own. She would have to ask her husband, she responded. And her husband ruled negatively. His parsimonious churlishness became legendary on the street.

His own father was a sweet-mannered and friendly man, an Italian-born pastry chef. It was assumed that their son's chronic social unwillingness had been inherited from his mother, a sharp-tongued harridan. However that might have been, there seemed little discord between the two young people. She always insisted her husband was her 'best friend'. A best friend who, she complained on occasion to close friends, occasionally said cutting and hurtful things to her.

And then they became parents, had a little girl. When the child was four, there was another baby, a boy. Both robust and healthy children. With remote, unfriendly temperaments, it became clear, as they grew into childhood. The girl quiet, reserved like her father, the boy with a nasty, incendiary temper. The father was as removed in the raising of the children as he was at integrating socially. If ever one of the children required an urgent diaper change evidenced by a pervasively nasty odour, he would shout for his wife to attend to the mess.

He was, after all, the breadwinner. She the stay-at-home mother and housewife. Both enterprises which she fulfilled admirably, but which elicited little respect from him. They paid off their mortgage far sooner than most on the street. A factor of their late marriage, both having acquired respectable savings as single, gainfully employed people, enabling them to amass a whopping down payment on the house, with a relatively modest mortgage.

They were careful to keep expenses to a moderate level, bought nothing they did not need. She prowled about at garage sales, was proud of the bargains she came away with, that he labelled 'junk'. She tended a nice little summer vegetable garden, harvesting globe peppers, tomatoes, beans, lettuce. She rarely used their electric clothes drier, hung laundry in the backyard in all seasons. Nor would she use their automatic dishwasher, to her husband's great satisfaction.

He more or less ordered her life, and she was, or seemed to be, satisfied enough to acquiesce. He had forbidden her from ever going into the ravine, to walk about there, lest some misfortune be visited upon her. You never know.... She enthusiastically made friendly overtures to people she met, other mothers, when her children began attending school. At first she used to invite people over for coffee in the evening, and that soon came to an abrupt halt.

The children both did well at school. Their mother bored and occasionally irritated her friendly neighbours by continually seeking praise for her children's performance. When anyone complained to her of her son's nasty behaviour she thanked them for their concerns but refused to discipline him. She once confided that she feared, if she spanked him, that he would strike out at her. She felt confident he would outgrow his deplorable behaviour.

They eventually traded in their creaking old car for a family van which she was allowed to drive locally. His lack of confidence in her abilities caused her to fear driving on city highways, ensuring she would stay within the confines of the neighbourhood. He, on the other hand, used public transit to the federal government office where he was an IT specialist and trouble-shooter.

One of his unmarried uncles, who often visited, gifted them with a good upright piano which was proudly placed in their living room. Thereafter, the children's lives were further enriched with piano lessons. Their mother had always arranged for play sessions for her children when they were young and drove them hither and yon. As they grew older, she no longer walked with them to their school bus stop in the morning, reversing the process in the afternoon.

Their daughter, as a pre-teen, conceived a fascination with horses and her parents agreed to weekly riding lessons. Their son was ferried back and forth to soccer league games. As the girl grew older she worked out an arrangement where she would muck out the horse stalls in exchange for free riding lessons, making her parents proud of her enterprising thrift. When they reached their teen years, they would sometimes invite school friends over. A slow succession of various friends who would issue reciprocal invitations. Never repeated.

Their house was broken into one fine summer morning. She had just driven off to the local supermarket, came home a bare hour later to discover the front door wide open. It transpired that the side garage door had been forced, entry gained to the house through the adjoining house door. She felt nauseated, violated, alarmed to note the frightening disarray in her normally spotlessly arranged interior.

Their prized DVDs were taken, along with the player. A few other items, a digital camera. Upstairs, in the master bedroom, bureau drawers were pulled agape, contents spilled out onto the floor. Her jewellery gone. She felt like retching. Ran outside to see her neighbours to the right just setting off for a ravine walk. No, they responded, alarmed at her frantic questioning, they had noticed nothing amiss.

They later replaced the two shattered doors. Had an alarm system installed to forestall any future intrusions. After the passage of a few years the trauma of the break-in became a bad memory she seldom called up. The insurance was useful, and they replaced everything that had been stolen. She still mourned the loss of her jewellery, some of the pieces had been, she said, family heirlooms. Junk, he said morosely.

Their daughter became enthused about theatre arts, was involved in her high school's theatre productions. Their son began to call daily on a much younger boy living across the street, for companionship. The father bought a convertible, a rag-top. Suddenly become enthused about washing the family vehicles - they had rid themselves of the old van, bought a new one - where previously his wife had been tasked with that labour.

He insisted on buying a rotary mower for their property, never bothering to sharpen the blades properly. After he would laboriously mow the lawns on a week-end, she would discreetly haul out the old electric mower on the following Monday to repeat the process. Their lawn was over-run with weeds. Instead of hand-picking them in early spring, she would set to in mid-summer, and just gave up. Solved the problem by liberally sprinkling clover seeds on the lawn.

Her daughter gave up horse-riding. Kept talking about graduating high school to take drama courses at university. The mother happily sewed up a lovely ball gown for her daughter's graduation prom. The two car dealerships from which the new vehicles were purchased went out of business. She was hoping her husband might agree finally to a vacation, a week away somewhere, as a change from the camping excursions to nearby provincial parks he always insisted on.

For his part, he planned to conduct a father-son discussion about the inappropriateness of finding companionship with a boy six years younger than his errant son.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld

The Street - A Composite Sketch (15)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the fifteenth part of the anatomy of The Street.

They were of old Anglo-Irish background, roots established in the country in the late 19th Century with an original influx from the United Kingdom. They bore the evidence of their roots on their blond, stolid visages, proudly. They moved into their excitingly new, well-proportioned and up-to-date-accoutered new house as its original owners on a raw new street.

Had chosen their lot carefully, to back onto the cherished notion of the ravine. Although in the 23 years they lived there so far, they never thought to venture into it. Even when, years later, they brought a golden retriever they named Sam into their home. Not exactly, come to think of it, into their home. Sam had his very nice doghouse in the backyard and that is where he remained, but for the infrequent walks he was taken on, around the neighbourhood.

Not even when his elderly father, unable any longer to live on his own, moved in with them, and himself looked about for things to do to make himself useful, was Sam taken out for walks. Instead the elderly man, uncertain on his pins, would be seen in the winter, shovel in hand, chipping away at the accumulated ice at the end of their driveway. Or taking solitary walks in the neighbourhood. The resemblance between father and son was striking. The son and daughter-in-law were glad to look after his elderly father.

They were both outgoing, relaxed and comfortable with themselves and the world outside their shared domesticity. As is natural for a young couple settled into their own home, financially assured with well-paid jobs, they planned a family. She took maternal leave several times from her emerging upward-trajectory federal government position with its discreetly determined new affirmative-action plan to bring more women into officer-class positions.

He worked in general construction, on contract, through contacts in the trade, himself a veritable Jack of all trades, although his preference was always with concrete work. Still, he imagined himself adept at anything, from drywall installation to flooring, and never lacked for remunerative contracts. He had a good reputation, was valued because of his reliability, more than for the quality of the execution of the work he was tasked with. When something needed to be done, look no further.

His industry stopped there, was not extended to normal wear and tear in the upkeep over the years, of their home. Although he was often given casual contracts right on the street, by those of his neighbours who wanted their driveways patched, a stone patio installed, or new kitchen cupboards to replace the old, or a hardwood floor put down. Those, that is, who wanted to get these things done on the cheap, who paid him under the table so he wouldn't have to declare added income.

They got the workmanship they deserved. Even so, he was not faulted for anything. For not accomplishing really professional work, because he never claimed to be a professional floor installer, or stonemason. Not his problem, after all, if people came to him because they wanted the work done, but were unwilling to pay the going professional rate. They came to him for a less expensive alternative, and that's what he gave them; a fair enough exchange.

They had two children, a girl and a boy. Exuberant and polite children who, as they grew, played with other children on the street. And upon whom somewhat less parental discipline was imposed than for others, by their nonetheless doting parents. The entire family was somewhat less conventional in their social outlook and values than what might be considered the norm. Without intending to, they occasionally stood social convention on its head.

As, for example, when in high school the son, not academically inclined, took with alacrity to establishing a line of business of his own. And as a result he was busy and fulfilled. The neighbours swiftly concluded what brought to the neighbourhood a fairly steady succession of brief house calls, particularly as their own high-schoolers casually informed their parents that he was dealing drugs. Nothing serious; mostly pot.

Before long, vehicles other than the two owned by the family - a half-ton pickup for the father, a bright-red BMW for the mother - were noted to be permanently present in the double driveway. (In fact, one of the few upgrades the father brought to his property was a widening of the driveway. Clumsily executed, put passably utilitarian.) Over the years the vehicles and their owners changed as the live-in 'friends' of their son and daughter reflected changing partners.

Some of the neighbours privately abhorred these unorthodox and illicit activities, but none conveyed their opinions to the family, and a polite facade of friendliness was maintained, only remotely strained. Though the neighbourhood peers of the boy and the girl no longer maintained a pretense of casual friendships. Where other young people their age were planning university and college attendance, these two went their own way. They did not lack friends of their own, just not from the street.

The property became progressively more run-down. The roof finally replaced only when it became impossible to ignore the loss of its functional integrity as a result of inconvenient leaks. Poor old neglected Sam died. The girl brought home a miniature pug and Sam's doghouse was discarded, left out for trash pick-up. The pug was babied, its comfortable role as a house dog not exempting it from acquiring an irritable temperament that amused the family no end, annoyed the neighbours with its incessant snarling and barking hostility.

Eventually as the husband-and-father grew older he got fed up with the rough and tumble of working on construction sites and looked for alternate employment. Finding it at a home for seniors long established in the community. With them he took a permanent job as a janitor-handyman. He was respected, his wide-ranging capabilities valued by the administrators of the seniors home and he basked in the appreciation of his hybrid fix-it talents.

She had been steadily promoted, moved forward in the junior ranks of government bureaucracy and eventually made it to departmental director. Her husband considered her perfection incarnate, inordinately proud of her achievements. Older now, their physical conformations taking on a stoutness, hers became reflected in the over-ripe excess of forbidden fruit.

He was her slave. Her response was fondly accepting; they were demonstrative in their affection with one another, extended to their children. Who could do no wrong. They were, in essence, people content with their lives and their lifestyles. Well adjusted members of society, in their lights. Happy together as a tight, emotionally-balanced nuclear group. A successfully intact family. Who could fault them?

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld

The Street - A Composite Sketch (14)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the fourteenth part of the anatomy of The Street.

Purchased by a military family, the office corps, a young Japanese-Canadian couple. Seldom seen outside the confines of their new home. The two-story-high windows of the great room swiftly draped for privacy and beauty by costly and elegant draperies, while others still went without, long afterward. Two children, just as swiftly, it somehow seemed also materialized, one after another. A very private affair.

Parents both small of stature, dark-haired, nicely proportioned, white-white teeth, lovely smiles and gracious acknowledgements, but no small talk, thank you very much. They tended to appear most comfortable with other members of the armed services, some of whom, representing a hierarchy, also lived on the street. He appeared neat and dapper, on his way to National Defence Headquarters, uniformed - and on his return home.

His wife was devoted to her job on the home front; their children always immaculate, changed into new, clean outfits to greet their father on his return home from the office. As a family, however, they were frequently not 'home'. They had many postings abroad. And rented out their home to other military families in transit. A succession of such families used the house until, finally, the owners returned.

Moved back into their house. Which was, by then, badly in need of updating, refurbishment. They had it painted inside and out. The roof replaced. The kitchen updated with new cupboards, tile floor, kitchen backsplash, and new appliances. Had a few windows replaced, their upkeep had been neglected, not painted when they should have been, resulting in rot.

The children now considerably older, attending middle school. They were never seen with the other children on the street. Nor were children from their school seen to come around. The company they received on occasion were military colleagues and their families. And then, they put their house up for sale. Another posting on the horizon. This time to Western Canada, where they were likely to stay awhile, and where they planned to buy another home.

The house sold speedily. Another young couple, quite young. Actually another young couple right from the area, whose extended family lived nearby. He was broad, tall and stocky with a bluff, good-natured manner. His wife large too, and extremely attractive. She was the ambitious one, the mover-and-shaker in the family. He acceded to her good judgement, and her stern admonitions.

He worked at a local car dealership, in their leasing and used-car section. He knew cars, was a natural salesman, smooth and assured on the job. Unlike his at-home persona. He left the self-assurance at the dealership, didn't dare exhibit it at home. They had an infant girl, and soon she was carrying another, a little boy, it transpired. Their mother was nothing if not enterprising and ultra capable.

Aside from looking after her own, she cared for other peoples' children, offering after-school care for elementary school children in the neighbourhood, until their parents picked them up after working hours. But it was her scrapbooking enterprise, demonstrating techniques to other young mothers, buying scrapbook "memories" products in bulk as a manufacturer-representative, where she earned most of her money.

Every few weeks she would host an open house for her clients. The street would be packed with family vans. Inside their house the social-contact clique with a scrapbooking context would discuss, display, enquire, instruct and take orders. All the supplies ordered would be accessible at the next scheduled event. The young mothers looked forward happily to these events as inspirational social occasions.

Her husband, working flexible hours, would be tasked with looking after the children while she expertly led her scrapbooking teaching sessions. She was recognized by the company as an excellent sales recruit, given encouragement and recognition by being sent off for product-enhancing sessions to update her techniques, to be introduced to new products.

Occasionally just to join other successful scrapbooking entrepreneurs on week-end holidays, all expenses paid as rewards for energy and enterprise. Another, third child came along, another girl. She coped extremely well as a busy young mother of three, with her lucrative business on the side. Her husband might have felt harried, left for week-ends with their brood, but he was a dedicated husband and father.

He loved his family, doted on their children. Respected his wife enormously, for her strength of character, capabilities and enterprising spirit. Always deferred to her. She held the family purse strings. Kept their accounts, made up their budget, paid the bills. She allotted him a weekly stipend. He seldom had much money to spend on himself. And that was just fine with him.

He adored his tight little family, never chafed at the familial constraints on his time and energy. Because of the business he was in they never had vehicular expenses. He was given a company car, a family van, and there was always a second, smaller car at his disposal courtesy of the leasing and used-car business. Whatever was in inventory could be used, until it was eventually sold.

They enjoyed very good relations with neighbours. Friendly, not quite distant, but busy-busy, engaged and involved. That attitude had to be respected. Everything revolved around their children. The oldest girl hadn't taken kindly to the appearance of rivals for her parents' attention. She was imperious and demanding, resentful of sharing attention.

Her younger siblings had more relaxed, pacific temperaments, sunny personalities. The oldest child sharply intelligent, like her mother. The other two docile and a little slow, like their complacent, comfortable father.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld

The Street - A Composite Sketch (13)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the Thirteenth part of the anatomy of The Street.

When they moved into their new house their girls were babies. Only years later would their son be born. They were both, the parents, rarities in these parts in an otherwise-transient population. Actually from the area, descended away back in time from immigrants escaping the potato famine in Ireland. Settlers of the land of the Ottawa Valley with their faith and their hard labour.

He had been hired, directly from university, with his Bachelor of Science degree, to work for the Canada Revenue Agency, Customs and Excise. He liked the work, its discipline, and the collegiality of the department personnel, and performed well. She stayed home, a young mother, raising her young brood. Extended family lived nearby. They were comfortable on the street, in their house.

When their son was born, their family was complete; two girls, one boy. The man of the house was always solicitous of the woman of the house, his wife. She was pretty, good-natured, a relaxed and competent mother. Not much of a cook, pity to tell, and even worse at housekeeping. but there are more important attributes to living a good life, after all.

He was moderately tall, well-built, an oddly unsymmetrical face, and walked like an old cowhand, legs splayed, comically bow-legged. His locomotion was informed by that fact. Nice enough fellow though, getting beyond the smug satisfaction. She, on the other hand had a subdued, quiet personality, a perfect foil for his.

As they grew older the girls, a bare ten months apart, grew prettier and more unlike one another. One tall, athletic, with dark blond hair, the other small, dark and lithe, with long, straight black hair. Hard to tell whom each resembled. Difficult to choose which of the girls was more admirably endowed.

As for the little boy, he was his father's son. A still, solitary child who loved playing outside by himself, cheerfully independent. As he grew older, the other boys on the street, all older than he, inducted him into their street hockey play and he never looked back. When he was halfway through elementary school and his sisters in high school, their mother returned to the paid workforce.

She took a clerical position with Health Canada. Their house was more slovenly kept than ever, but none of them were bothered by that. The exterior was always well maintained. And the father did double-duty, increasingly cooking their evening meals. Fast food was a popular solution also, more than occasionally. None of them appeared to suffer for it.

By the time the boy entered high school, girls began flocking to him, following him. One girl or another from his classes would walk home with him, to his parents' wry amusement. His sisters had their own admirers, albeit not quite so numerous. The older girl was interested in becoming a physical education instructor, the younger a physical therapist.

And with their parents' encouragement, adjusted their academic agenda accordingly. All three children did well at school, the boy somewhat less so than his sisters. Something that sat oddly with their parents, but in the end accepted as the way their inherited endowment of intelligence marked them. They were A-grade students, he remained mired in B-minus.

Their father had acquired the requisite number of working years to qualify for early retirement. Thought about it for a year, then took the plunge. After which, still young at 58, decided to do contract work with his former department, at a lower grade level, which bored him dreadfully. After a year of that, gave in to complete retirement.

Began to attend college cooking courses. Took a greater interest in the family cottage. Started to think of doing upgrades to the house. A gold-plated retirement plan is very enabling. And his wife, not yet ready to stop work herself, continued to earn a salary of her own. That too is personally empowering.

The family decided to take up horse-riding, as a shared recreational interest. All but the father did well with their lessons. He fell, broke a leg, was in a cast, then crutches for months. End of the horse experiment. None of the children in any hurry to become independent, get married, move out, their father has taken on the role their mother never quite managed.

Fussing over their schedules, cooking for them, doing the food shopping, even the occasional clean-up in the house. The family owns two older-model vehicles, one of which the girls drive, sometimes their brother. The mother uses efficient public transit to work, just as her husband had used to, common to public servants in the area.

They're a happy, well-adjusted family. caring deeply for one another. Always have gotten on well with their neighbours; well respected and respecting others. More introverted, still, than extroverted. Although they seldom discuss it, they have on occasion mentioned they would not put on sackcloth if their neighbours on either side moved, however.

The constantly-barking dogs with their neurotic temperaments on the left annoy them no end, as does the rather unorthodox arrangements of that family's solution to a degraded marriage. And to the right, the traffic resulting from the neighbour's resourceful drug-dealing son rather upsets their notion of neighbourly propriety.

Hard to believe there was ever a time when the youngsters of each family played together, attended the same school, went out trick-or-treating together on the street. The adults rarely speak to one another, now.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld

The Street - A Composite Sketch (12)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the twelvth part of the anatomy of The Street.

They had already lived in Canada for over a decade, before they bought their house. They'd sold a previously-owned house on a nearby street. Not a single-detached; a much smaller house. With one very young child and another soon to be born, they wanted a larger property on a quieter street. So the couple, Sikhs from India's Punjab, moved into the brand new house on a brand new street, excited and happy at the opportunity.

They had a lot of family living nearby, as well; brothers, sisters, uncles, nephews and nieces on both sides. Though his brother wore a turban, he did not, just a neat beard. And though her sister continued to affect saris, she preferred pant-suits. Their children were quintessentially Indian children. Doe-eyed, large black pupils, gleaming coarse black hair, lovely oval faces, brilliant-enamelled smiles and flawlessly olive-toned complexions.

He appeared much older than his wife. His hair a cap of grey, so too his beard, fully grey verging on white, soon to turn stark white. Her hair was a rich, deep black, her facial features delicately symmetrical, smile shy. Nothing shy about him, however. He was a complete and natural extrovert, outgoing and verbose, an opinion on everything and eager to hear anyone else's opinions.

He worked for the Dustbane Group as a skilled machinist. Back home in India his family had owned a local textile plant. They specialized in ornate draperies. He had, in fact, expertly sewed all the beautiful draperies that now hung in their new house. And there were many windows in that new house; the great room had double-story windows.

They attended Sikh events at their gurdwara, and were a comfortable part of the Sikh community, but they also integrated fully into the Canadian social compact. New to gardening, they accepted offers from neighbours for perennial cuttings when lilies, bellflowers, hostas and hydrangeas were separated in the autumn.

Their young son's beauty captured the admiration of other young mothers on the street. Their children melded effortlessly into street life and the schools they attended locally. With the other children on the street, they went out at Hallowe'en. The lithely graceful, lovely girl had her companions among the other girls; the boy played hockey and soccer.

The parents twice returned to India with their children, for family affairs and to ensure their children knew their heritage, accepted those values. As the girl grew to maturity she looked for male companionship from among those in the expatriate Indian community. When she married, it was a traditional affair, lush and lavish, colourful and infused with community spirit; exotic by Canadian standards.

Their son, dark and physically slight, gained skills in the competitive sports he loved and his parents encouraged him. Hockey resulted in a series of injuries that put him out of commission for long recuperative periods, and soccer did the same. Finally, puzzling bouts of nausea, heavy heart palpitations and dizziness defied diagnosis, until it was put down to high stress. Serious enough that he had to sign off sports.

During the time the children were growing, thriving, completing their education, their father, given to black, dark moods of depression began to exhibit troubling symptoms that left him breathless, bereft of energy. He finally went on short-term work leave. When he returned to work after a protracted recuperative period he was irritable and his usual sensitivity to perceived slights propelled him into bitter arguments with his supervisor.

He was advised by his union representative to make peace with the supervisor, but his stubborn, argumentative streak held him back. He lost his permanent employment. Then he began to work part-time at a local hardware and home-supply store. Still relatively young and reasonably fit, he was expected to haul awkward and heavy items. Eventually the work sapped his energy.

His right shoulder suffered a torn ligament that would not heal and caused him great discomfort. An operation solved nothing. He was no longer employable at physical tasks, all that he was capable of. During the day, as an early retiree, he passed time with other retired neighbours, cleaned house, prepared meals to alleviate his wife's working day. His obliging son did the physical work around the house; lawn mowing, snow shovelling.

Their daughter who had gone off to work in Toronto, and who had met her future husband there, now lived in that city. She and her husband frequently made the drive back home to visit with her family. They were establishing themselves in Toronto. She had a well paid position with an advertising agency, and her husband was completing his medical studies as an anaesthetist.

The wife worried constantly about her husband's dark moods. The neighbours saw only a kind, cheerful and companionable neighbour.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld

The Street - A Composite Sketch (11)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the eleventh part of the anatomy of The Street.

From Newfoundland, she bright and cheery, he slightly reserved in a shy, not standoffish way, until he found his social comfort level, balanced with familiarity in time. Drawn to this place, and their new home, by the emerging high-tech environment, and he an enterprising IT entrepreneur. As an experienced nurse, she found quick employment in a local hospital.

Two very young children, a girl seldom seen out of doors, and her younger brother, always out of doors. Shy children, but well-adjusted and politely socialized. They got on well with the other young children on the street, attended the same schools, did well academically, were involved in sports and little leagues; hockey for him, volleyball for her, as they grew older.

The parents enjoyed having friends over. enjoyed even more visits from family come off the Rock to "away" to see how their errant two made out outside of the place they all held most dear. Old nth-generation Irish, they were. Loved their good cheer, their blarney humour, their sports, their drink and their fare.

Before the children were out of elementary school they pleaded long and hard and the family consequently adopted a Nova Scotia duck troller. Red hair, just as she had, red nose, like his own, mind of its own, a reflection of them both. The children who had pledged so earnestly they would care for the barking beast were soon disenchanted with its faded novelty.

Walks were seldom, few and far between, though the ravine and its trails were so close. Beckoning to the dog, but not its owners. The dog broke away from its tie-out on the front lawn occasionally to take itself for recreational runs there in the ravine, irking them no end, as they had then to venture into the ravine to call it out.

Finally, when the first of what was to become three bouts of breast cancer struck her, the family, harried with concern, gave up the dog to someone willing and eager to take it, to the relief of all concerned. Her ongoing ordeal unleashed the dragon in her. Those serial onslaughts of the misery of battling cancer, and her professional knowledge enabled her to muster a level of courage and strength she hardly was aware she possessed.

Surgery, chemotherapy, weight loss, weight gain, appetite vanished, physical distress, mental disorientation, all summarily dismissed. Even as her hopes sank each time the cancer returned to rage its inchoate madness throughout her body, she informed her fearful family time and again they would not lose her, she would not leave them.

Hair loss, misery, nausea and dizziness were symptoms she slighted, intent on destroying the malediction within her before it could destroy her. And she prevailed. Her husband, encouraging her overtly, smiling, genial as ever, privately braced himself for the worst possible outcome, even as he boasted that his wife had triple the strength, endurance and courage he was capable of.

Their children became subdued, moody, even when with their friends, lapsing into normal life enjoyment for young people, would suddenly stop, eyes momentarily vacant, wondering could they laugh again so readily if they lost their mother. But they did not, though the chasm between normalcy and despair was not so soon forgotten. Even as they moved on, relief restoring the blase assurance of the young.

They, the children, branched into early adulthood, then achieved independent security of self. The son, off to university down east, to Mount Allison University, to become a geologist. The daughter to marry, have her own home, not far from her parents. And they acquired another branch of extended family, finding much in common with the new in-laws.

The mother left nursing, established a new career as a pharmaceutical salesperson. Began to travel widely with her job. Her work interfered with her time for participating in breast cancer survivors' dragon-boat races. Her team had been highly successful, winning often. Even travelling as far as Singapore and Hong Kong, Arizona and Vancouver, to compete.

She had changed in many ways. An already gregarious personality, she had become even more outgoing, fearful of nothing. Her once luxuriant hair never did grow back completely. Thin patches of red-blond hair covered her scalp, but she expressed no interest whatever in wearing a wig. That wasn't her. She laughed blithely, called it a small price.

Her husband resigned himself to her constant travel, for recreation-competition and for her work. She was good at what she did. Her enthusiasm was infectious. She was amply rewarded by the pharmaceutical firm she represented by a series of promotions. Her husband took pride in everything she did. He would return from work, do domestic things around the house, keeping it in good order for her return.

Her proudly informed anyone who cared that her earning power had long since eclipsed his. Thanks to what she brought home, they paid off their mortgage, bought new vehicles, went on pricey vacations and ate out often. He was lonely from time to time, but when she was home he appreciated her all the more. They threw wild and wonderful parties for their friends; Grey cup, birthdays, Canada Day.

They finally decided to buy another property. A summer cottage in the Quebec highlands, not far from where their daughter's parents-in-law had theirs, near Mount Ste.Marie. And they were mad for life at the cottage. Began a new life-style there. They have now two homes, together, where their hearts are, replacing their beloved Newfoundland.