There wasn't a confessional the first time around. It happened at school, so we simply went, trembling, into a small, well-lit room and "confessed" our crimes and desires to the parish priest. The whole affair was oppressive and abusive. Priests, not boys, should be shamed, ashamed, and begging for forgiveness.
Spring is my favourite season. The first round of Stanley Cup Playoffs means good hockey every night. It's warming up and turning green. Canadians are at their best in the spring, as we emerge, en masse, to greet the sun and each other and talk about the long awaited spring.
We were all saddened by the recent loss of cousin David. David was only 53, but doomed by cancer. David and his wife, Lorna, recently hosted a family get together at their great, groovy, old house. Despite chemo, David was his typical self: interesting, funny, and kind. Happy trails, David.
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