Good evening. I am pre-writing this newsletter on Friday night on account that I am travelling early Saturday morning, which is normally the time that I reserve for this newsletter. Now I could have been brave and risked writing issue while travelling in the VIA rail car that is

Good morning. It is the Labour Day long weekend. It will look like our household is at rest but I like to think of it more as that we are just all caught in a moment not unlike when a ball thrown up in the air and appears to pause

Good morning. Last night, I didn't sleep well. I woke up a million times for a million different reasons. One of those reasons was being startled by the sound of rain on the roof. I can't remember how its been since I've heard the

Good morning. My husband is volunteering his time at the soccer fields. My children are up, having breakfast in the kitchen and talking about the latest Spiderman movie. My cat is insisting that she has not had enough scritches. I have booked a noon-hour pilates class in order to

Good morning. The cats have been fed and scratched (more about that later) and the kids are still sleeping. The oppressive heat and smoke have lifted from where I live and the weather feels like a blessing. I don't have many plans for the weekend except for playing

Good morning. My husband is at Ford Field and all the children and cats in the house are sleeping. For today's soundtrack, I've opted to listen to some joyful house music that was broadcast last night across the airways of Windsor and Detroit. There is going

Good morning. I am sitting at my desk in the study. When I arranged my coffee mug and all my secondary screens around my laptop (my phone, an ipad playing BBC Sounds, a TRML e-ink display currently displaying writing advice that begins, "Find a subject you care about

Good morning. I'm at my desk in the study, my body fairly well-rested but still heavy from the last two weeks in which I resumed cycling to work. Friends, I bought an e-bike (pedal-assist with no throttle if that is important to you) and it

Good morning. I'm at my desk in the study as my husband moves through the house to open all the windows in preparation for the unseasonable drop in temperatures for today. He will be heading to the Ford Test Track shortly to help run the fields of the

Good morning. For the last ten years, I have started my Saturday morning of the Victoria Day long weekend by writing this newsletter. Ten years! Some of you have been with this newsletter from the start (🙏🏽) and you know how much more wordy I've become since

Good morning. I did myself no favours by telling you all that the next newsletter after my vacation would be today. I am, indeed, home from vacation but I had forgotten that travelling to the West Coast of Canada for ten days would mean that I would still be on

Good morning. The cats are basking in sunbeams and I'm sitting at my desk that I will shortly give up to my son once he is awake and ready to study for his next exam, unless he opts to go straight to the library to avoid the distractions

Good morning. There is the lightest layer of snow gathered at the edges of the rooftops (and the solar panels) that I can see from my kitchen window. On Monday it is forecast to be 20°C but on Thursday it will be as cold as it is today.

Good morning. I have already adjusted to daylight savings time. I woke up this morning at the time that I would normally rise so as to get to work. Everyone else in the house is still sleeping, including the cats who like to have a nap immediately after their breakfast.

Good morning. I'm stretched out on the sofa with a laptop prepped with a couple dozen open tabs that I will have the pleasure of closing, one by one, over the next two or three hours as I write this to you. I can already see blue skies

Good morning. I'm writing at my desk, surrounded by a trio of beverages: a coffee, water in a sticker covered YETI bottle, and a small thermos carrying the extras of a smoothie that I made yesterday. I'm moving slowly on account that I'm just

<p><br />Good morning. I am writing today&apos;s newsletter from my bed on about 5 hours sleep on account of a very late VIA train. I&apos;ve returned for a short trip to Toronto where I attended the <a href="https://olasuperconference.ca/?ref=uofwinds.com" rel="noreferrer">Ontario Library Association&apos;s annual conference</a>. The conference theme was</p>

Good morning. I'm sitting on the sofa, gingerly using my laptop to write you _Good Morning_ , as for the past two weeks, I have been nursing an aggravated upper back. Spoiler for the movie _Wicked_ in the next paragraph. [Click here to skip] My shoulder pain is slowly

Good morning. I have had a very good winter break. My calm has only been ruptured by the daily ritual my family haven taken up of watching one of the noisy and ridiculous nine Star Wars movies together. * * * ## The Gift: Imagination and the Erotic Life of Property I was compelled

Good morning. Today's issue is being written from the reading chair because the writing desk is covered with hundreds of puzzle pieces. Because I took the better part of a week off work at the beginning of the month, I find myself uncharacteristically prepared for the necessary rituals

Good morning. I slept in. This rarely happens. My son, who did not sleep in, is on campus writing his first exam of his second year of engineering. My husband is watching English soccer while the cat beside him is looking out of the window. Outside, there is a thin

Good morning. I am stretched out on the sofa in the study. My son has slept through the early morning Chelsea FC game. My daughter and husband will be leaving shortly to prepare and help run an indoor soccer league held in some domed building near Dominion Golf Club. Outside,

Good morning. I took a few moments to tidy up the study before I sat down to write. This was necessary as my cat jumped on the table and this small violence caused my full coffee mug to spill over. There's not much outside light that has made

Good morning. I am writing this without a coffee beside me because there are an assorted array of teenagers sleeping in the living room and I don't want them to wake them up to the whirl of our coffee grinder. Not yet. My husband in the study with

Good morning. I'm stretched out on the sofa with a cat sitting on my legs and so my just out of reach coffee is going to be just a little cooler than I would like when I finally get to it. It is the long weekend on account

Good morning. I'm in my IKEA wing-back chair, feeling sore (but not-injured!) from the previous day's adventure: being part of a Faculty v Students soccer game. It promises to be a gloriously sunny Autumn day, although the forecast suggests that it will be unseasonably hot. There

Good morning. I am in the study, writing from the sofa with a coffee beside me. Thanks to the magic of a newly acquired subscription to a VPN service, I am catching up on episodes of Night Tracks from BBC 3. While I expect my son to wake up shortly

Good morning. I am properly poised at the writing desk, trying to focus on the words in front of me, despite the temptation to join my family who are watching Chelsea FC in the TV room. I am also trying to resist refreshing Bluesky for a whisper of news from

Good morning. I'm writing this from the study. I am the only one at home and awake. It is the last weekend that requires my husband and daughter to be on the soccer fields within Windsor's Ford Test Track. My son will still be working for

Good morning. I have written another summertime edition of this newsletter – which means I wrote most of this the night before because we're going away this long weekend to see family as soon as everyone is sufficiently awake and packed. Last weekend, we drove to Stratford to

Good morning. I'm writing this from my grey wingback STRANDMON in the study. It's probably not good for my back to sit for too long in this chair, but it is my favourite place to write. To prevent injury, I get up from time to time

Good morning... although I feel like I should confess that I wrote most of today's newsletter last night after dinner, so good evening as well. I broke from my regular writing practice to make sure I could make an early morning yoga class happening this morning, that some

UofWinds 415 is on vacation. Back next week

Good morning. Today is a day filled with No Kings protests across the border. While I will be tempted to glean how these events unfold from my social media feeds, I'm going to try to _not_ to do that. Instead, I'll probably work on a little

Good morning. I am not the only one up early this morn, as half my family now spends their Saturday mornings at the Ford Test Track to coach and manage house league soccer until the end of August. For us, TV soccer ends today and real-life soccer has begun. Last

Good morning. I'm sitting at my desk in the office and repeatedly removing my beloved cat who is repeatedly positioning herself in front of my keyboard. Since I've been back from away, she has been keeping close to me and in her sights. I had a

Good evening. I'm writing this on a Thursday night because I will be traveling on Saturday morning as part of a two week vacation. I will pack my bags tomorrow. I will pack my words tonight. * * * ## How Do We Write Now Over the past two weeks, I seem

Good morning. I'm at my parent's house for the Easter long weekend. It was warm last night so we opened the windows. This morning, I was awakened by the dawn chorus. The return of birdsong and the return of spring brings me a wave of relief.

Good evening. I'm pre-writing this fortnightly Saturday morning newsletter on Friday night on account that I've committed the next day to be at the We Robot Conference 2025. I am listening and learning and I am taking notes. This week will be a shorter version of

Good morning. I am trying to start today's newsletter from the desk in the study but my cat demands tribute first. She's learned not to walk on my keyboard but she pretty much goes everywhere else on the table. Now that she is no longer directly

Good morning. I have to admit, I've been struggling with the deciding of what to share in this fortnight's issue as there is a tremendous amount of uncertainty and upheaval in this moment that we are in. Each week has been a decade. I have decided

Good morning. I'm writing this newsletter, properly for a change, at a desk and in my chair. I can almost type comfortably here with my coffee at hand, but there is the matter of _the other cat_(the one who never bothers me when I write on the

Good morning. I'm sitting on the sofa trying to type this fortnight's newsletter in spite of an insistent cat who is nudging my hand off the keyboard. It is not the worst intrusion in this moment. My original intention was going to have this issue of

Good morning. I'm stretched out on the sofa under several blankets in the study. The cats have found the warmest corners of the house elsewhere. As I write this, I am pruning my absurd number of playlists in my YouTube Music account. On today's agenda is