Storytelling. Fact and fiction. One word at a time.
The Bar Willow offers a unique dining experience a few times a year. It's called Dining in the Dark. You may have heard of it. If you haven't it's exactly what the title says. You eat in the D A R K. Like I-can't-see my-hand-in-front-of-my-face dark. Cool? Yeah, man. Totally. Arriving I made a reservation.... Continue Reading →
Creative Sask celebrated 10 years in our province supporting and advocating for the arts. The multi-arts event was wonderful. Music, literature, visual arts, film, interactive arts, and theatre were represented. The location was so beautifully decorated. The food was delicious. And the vibe reminded me of the parties that were thrown by the theatre students... Continue Reading →
Sunday night I drove back from the lake with my window down. I don't often do this. It's noisy. I can't hear the radio. My hair blows around. It's annoying. But, for whatever reason, as I drove through the quiet village streets of the lake towards the highway I didn't roll up my window---and I... Continue Reading →
I woke up and did the thing I shouldn't do. I went right to my phone to look for something I was hoping for. The thing I wanted didn't happen for me. My immediate thought was 'Maybe next time.' That was a pretty optimistic shift in how I perceived the moment. Huh. My optimism hitched... Continue Reading →
Although this post is titled The Collegial Discussion, it was mostly about me listening and not discussing at all. The visitor I recently had an educational assistant in one of the most diverse classes of my day. It's full of neurodivergent children, children with cognitive complexities, and some English as an additional language students---some of... Continue Reading →
This blog post is the precursor to the two very late posts I intended to post on time. But I didn't. I am not saying any of this from a place of complacency. I always intend to write at least one post a week but sometimes life happens. This is not the first time I... Continue Reading →
Having written my memoir really gets me thinking about everyone else's story. No one is ordinary. And even if they are---it's in that day-to-day that stories are built, that the remarkable occurs. In the hall at work, I stopped to watch a teacher assemble a bulletin board. Another teacher stopped and another one---a small professional... Continue Reading →
Angie Counios 