I’ve always had a very polarizing relationship with death. Not quite fearful, not quite accepting, but more of an odd impasse where neither is welcomed nor shunned. 
In truth, the whole idea of death and all that it entails makes me rather uncomfortable, in that awkward foot-in-mouth sort of way.

Somebody in some cubicle in a federal government department had the whacko idea of building a fence on Signal Hill and blocking the view of part of the St. John’s Harbour. 
Who knows what lies in the hearts of government’s minions at all levels? Perhaps it was meant to drive

My mom used to use the lovely expression “too foolish to talk about”. Sometimes in the middle of expressing opinions about what radio commentator John Nesbitt used to call “the passing parade” something jumps out at me that needs to be referenced as more than a difference of opinion.  Something