By Iris Winston I’ve done my mourning. Although my husband of 57 years is still alive — barely — he is far from the man he was. The kind, considerate gentleman (in both senses) is no more. His great wit and sense of humour have faded into the distance. These days, I can only rarely have any type of meaningful conversation with the...
Now and Then by Iris Winston A loose button remains loose for too long in my house. That’s because sewing of any kind tends to be pushed to the bottom of every to-do list I set up. It’s been that way for a very long time. My difficult relationship with a needle and thread began early. My mother, who was a highly skilled seamstress and...
