isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

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about

Isobel Cunningham has published short fiction and poetry. Her book, Northern Compass is available on Amazon. She was born in Wales but Montreal is her adopted home. She speaks French, Modern Greek ( it’s a fun story) and a little Spanish…oh, English too, of course. She welcomes comments on her blog and looks forward to chatting with you over cyber-space.

Author: isobel cunningham

  • Nobody told the Bees

      It will snow in two days time but yesterday my crocuses were invaded by bees.  They even tried to get up into an innocent snowdrop. Can you see the three bees in the picture? They’re quite small and I wonder if they are Mason Bees.  Now I’m showing off that I know about different…

  • Remembering

        I’ve been throwing out things and taking things to the Savation  Army to recycle.  I had my handyman come and put up some new bookshelves so that some books that I love could have pride of place.  I have a set of Dickens that my grandfather bought in an estate sale.  I never…

  • Decluttering, not as easy as it sounds

      Spring cleaning…turfing things out…getting rid of junk….the Spring impulse!  I’ m game!  I have no problem filling boxes with strange items of clothing.  What on earth made me buy that!? Some of my mother’s things are harder to let go of.  I still have the elegant ensemble in which she attended her eldest granddaughter’s…

  • Tantalizing

      Yesterday the branches and twigs were covered with light snow and with an icy coating glistening in the noon sun.My grandchildren come to have lunch with me on Wednesday.  As we were walking back to school after the lunch break, I drew their attention to the sun shining on the bushes bearing their bright…

  • Poetry Day?

    But isn’t every day poetry day? “I had a little pony, his name was Dapple Grey” “Mistress Mary, quite contrary” “I had a little nut tree and nothing would it grow…. nothing but rhymes, poems, rhythm in my head, in my heart as I walk along, stride along. ” And He walks with me, and…

  • A Promise

      It has only been a few days since I left sunshine, painted walls, brilliant bougainvillia.  I returned to a grey city.  The sky has been constantly overcast.  The sidewalks are gritty with pebbles, littered with old papers and plastic bags.  People are still wearing boots and black coats. My car battery was flat.  I…

  • At Last

      I really am under a Montreal sky.  Many many Mexican nights with cold stars, socks worn to bed, fireworks, lonely moments but dreams of Freida too.  A little swing on by home just for one day, an unexpected weekend in New York and now, home at last! I went to New York to hold…

  • San Miguel Tuesday Market

      Every week ordinary Mexicans and ordinary Gringos go to the huge market that is set up above the town. I always marvel at how this vast emporium is put up and taken down all in one day.  Want an axe handle, a Barbie,, sexy underwear, second-hand clothing, fresh,and,tasty fruits and vegetables?  Get on that…

  • On the Town Square

      In this town they call the town square the “jardin” and we say ” hardine”. It’s an interesting place.  People come and sit on the infernally uncomfortable benches and talk to each other.  Vendors sell hats, balloons, beads or scarves.  There are a couple of shoe-shine men.  In San Miguel, you need never feel…

  • Aztec Dancing

    This will be short as I have been standing in the  square for hours…not the 12 hours the dancers have been dancing, but still.  Such drumming, costumes. Such a mixture of Christianity and indigenous customs.  More tomorrow, I promise!