Fuzzy Bunny was not a bear.

He was a rabbit. He did have hair.

He did not like carrots as much as you'd think.

Oh, sure he liked them, but what he loved, were Winter Apples.

His friend, S, led Fuzzy out to the yard. They came across an apple tree. Not just any apple tree, but a crabapple tree.

"Do you want to try a . . .

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I've blogged about depression, but something always held me back about bipolar disorder. Well, here it goes ...

In my early twenties, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

I went through bouts of mania where, in no particular order, I trashed my townhouse, ran up large debts, got kicked out of bars, had run-ins with police, . . .

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We rang in the new year at the home of Oma and Opa, who are parents of a family friend. Their Dutch hospitality was affectionate, amazing, genuine. Thank you, Oma and Opa! The kids, my wife and I enjoyed every minute.

New Year's at Oma and Opa's

Silver mirrored sun
over familial hearth
reflects a memory;
firewood stacked
. . .

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Smells Like Recess

Ball up in sky
like rocket to moon.
Cartwheel exquisite;
polka dot ball.

If I were a spider
on the wall,
I would crawl
into your arms,
jump over the net,
mixed dirt and sweat
stained cap
smells
like recess—

smells like
love.

Bell rings,
time to leave fun;
back to class,
sit up straight.

You have . . .

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A grey, drab, Tuesday morning. Ottawa awoke to a thin sheet of freezing rain coating the streets. By noon, the temperature had risen, the ice had melted and thousands of fans lined Bank Street for a victory parade to cheer on their football heroes and 2016 Grey Cup champions, the Ottawa Redblacks.

We parked on Fourth Avenue between . . .

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The television’s blue-hued light flickered in the dark. “I hear someone coming,” I whispered to my brother. “Turn off the TV and hide!” The stairs creaked as Dad made his way downstairs to get a drink of water. We hid behind the laundry room door.

“Shh … be quiet or we’ll get in . . .

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