ol' man whatever

Folks, playtime is over; the serious business of winter has begun. Windy and cold, fat flakes tumbling and staying on the ground. Now my bird-feeder comes into its own, hosting a great flurry all day. I don't know how those tiny birds keep warm during these bitter months, but at least the ones around here can find something to eat.

I went to One of a Kind for the first time on the weekend, to troll through the overwhelming assortment of crafts, but mostly to visit an old friend with a booth there. About 15 years ago, when I went back onstage to do a show in Vancouver, Wendy van Riesen was brought in as a replacement for an actress who'd gone off to do a movie. Wendy and I had several long scenes together, and as we worked, I remembered what the theatre is really about - sharing, expressing, giving. She gave that to me with her passionate honesty and generosity. When the former actress came back again into her role, I had changed so much on stage that we could hardly work together. She wanted laughs. I wanted truth.

Wendy too eventually left the stage and created a company called Dahlia Drive. She creates one of a kind dresses out of slips - old slips, black and pink and white, that she hand-paints and cuts and shapes. They're lovely and unique, like Wendy herself. We had a grand reunion. Check out her website www.dahliadrive.com.

This week, too, a parade of successful students came to visit: Laurel Croza's gorgeous book "I Know Here" is on quite a few Top Ten lists, and the fiendishly energetic Louise Binder came by with the first half of her memoir that we've been working on for nearly two years. On Saturday night, I went as every year to the tree lighting at Riverdale Farm - a gathering of neighbours to sing carols with the Cabbagetown Community Choir, and then to gasp when someone illuminates the lights on the big pine as we sing "Oh Christmas Tree." And cocoa.

It's looking mighty Christmassy out there right now. Time to put my head under the pillows, and hide.