Picked it up yesterday!

The province took $625 million in “education tax” from Edmontonians in 2026 and we received $174 million in provincial infrastructure money back. So … no.

We have called a Special Council meeting for next Friday. The public can attend and it will be live streamed.

Look, even if you hate infill, you should be absolutely CHILLED today. This is insane, harmful, & if this government had used the same move for something you love you’d have zero recourse. This wild abuse of power holds sobering realities. And it’s hard to shove the toothpaste back into the tube.

What referendum?

This Alberta provincial government wants to do everyone’s job but their own. Poorly They don’t know what they are doing and don’t care. It’s not good governance they are after, it’s populist politics - which it seems they discard as soon as they wring people out of their money and attention.

And when the memory is filed away again - it has changed. You have changed. A new story has been told. Maybe you’ve healed a little. I went into the woods. I returned with something new. So will you. Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall - F Scott Fitzgerald

I won’t tell you what it was, maybe when I am older and you are an owl. What I will tell you is that memories must be retraced, that pain must be relived, and in new light, maybe in the light of a glancing autumn sun, you will see it in a new way. Not better or worse. Just new.

I wondered what I would find. When would I stop? My feet kept moving, my lungs breathing the sleep that was descending on the land. Then. A memory. I don’t want this memory. As my feet followed the trail, as my heart was pulled and I followed - a memory demanded I retrace it though I resisted

I sat on my heels, arm stretched out, eyes closed the rhythm caressing my palm, the coldness numbing my fingers. A clean crisp breath of air. The trail. A golden corridor with a cathedral dome. I walked. For an hour I followed the pull at my chest.

I followed the padded carpet of golden leaves sighing their last before turning brittle and collapsing into shards then dust. The water lapped little licks along the shoreline. I submerged my hand to feel that cold connection to the vast life it carried.

The silence was everything. The high clouds painted in cryptic strokes carrying a song I didn’t know how to sing. I had that autumn urge of going. Going where? It didn’t matter. Anywhere. The hunting feeling. Not a push. A deep pull, like the heart will leave the body if you don’t follow.

I had been driving, returning from presenting about reading, literacy, and the process of writing. The road was all mine, the sky a message, and when I saw the lake through the blur of trees I had see it closer. I parked and got out, the fallen leaves a soft carpet. It was one of those days.

The sun is bright and the light is pushing through the black branches, obliterating the ones that try to stand in its face, a white disk glowing across the upper right corner. It blends with the sparse brush of high cloud whipping across the heavens, an impossible blue of glacial lake made sky.

Slender birch and trembling aspen frame the Trans Canada Trail along Lesser Slave Lake in Alberta, Canada. The leaves are covering the path, the mostly clear sky is slipping through the trunks and branches - contrasting with the golden crowns of leaves.

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in fall F Scott Fitzgerald

Heather Sweet is awesome

My MLA! Heather has been a great partner in serving our overlapping areas and she has been a tireless advocate for the folks in Edmonton Manning.

The human heart is The size of a Fist Clenched. Indefatigable, and infallible On pain of death. And yet it skips At the most curious Times, To remind us of its finite Beats. And perhaps to attend us To use them both wisely And with abandon. - Darren Markland