There’s an air of familiarity to the Hawkesbury Room, located on the downstairs level of the Maritime Inn on Reeves Street, as we head into the final six hours of St. Patrick’s Day 2017. It’s partly because I’ve been here...
That whole optimism thing is a big pile of nonsense. Remember what I wrote about last week? You know how I was going to ignore the critics’ warnings about Iron Fist thing and watch it anyway? Yeah well, I was...
The recent disagreement within a local School Options Committee (SOC) shows the inherent limitations of the private-public partnership (P3) model which financed school construction in the 1990s. The SOC examining the future of five schools in the Town of Antigonish...
I often wonder why all secondary roads from 50-plus years ago were never paved during this time span? And why roads that were paved some 30-plus years ago were never upgraded or resurfaced to safety standards? The secondary roads only...
Imagine the main street of Arichat in 1935. Currently, at the intersection of Conney’s (Delaney) Lane and the main road stand a former store and the old municipal building. In 1935 the store was that of “Little” Joe Samson, and...
Cecile Boudrot, daughter of Louis Boudrot and Barbe Fougere, was married at around 1780 to Simon Forest. At her husband’s death she became a tavern keeper at Arichat. She was grandmother to MLA Honore Martell and Rev. Guillaume Marin LeBlanc...
The world is divided into two types of people: those who awaken before sunrise, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and those who stay up late at night. One group will never understand the other, and getting such contrasting biological clocks to...
Please take this column as my own version of a self-help exercise. Apparently, envisioning something helps a person achieve whatever that something happens to be, and I am trying to be less of a miserable git. Yeah, I know, without...

My notebooks

This week, if you can bear with me, I’m talking about some of the notebooks I have on my desk here at the newspaper office. Even in the digital age, having a fresh supply of paper to scrawl down details...
I stood on the old wharf below Babin’s Hill and waited for the setting sun to produce the image that I thought might take place. I wasn’t disappointed. There were just enough clouds to hide the sun at the horizon...
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