Homebodies - I lost a year!

By Rita Friesen

It has happened before, and it has happened again. I lost a year. The first time I lost track of time I locked my father into being 45. He stayed there, for me, three years. And then I caught on, and caught up. It didn’t seem a big deal. Forty-five is the mid-forties. Mid can be anywhere between 42 and 47.  His physical features didn’t change much in that era and neither did his school pictures! He was teaching in the time when a suit and tie was the norm. He must have had a favourite tie, it appeared in several consecutive photos. Ageless and timeless. 

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Not so silent E - Losing doesn't build character, it reveals it.

By Eoin Devereux

The Neepawa Banner

Losing sucks…I know that’s not exactly a Woodward and Bernstein type news exclusive I’m starting this column with here. I may as well throw in some other obvious statements such as water is wet and puppies are adorable, but stick with me on this. While there are exceptions to every rule, for the most part, losing is not something we as a species often enjoy. It’s even harder to deal with when you know the person, or in this case, team deserved better.

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My perspective - Not much in the middle

Kate Jackman-Atkinson

The Neepawa Banner

Over the years, we have seen the size of the Canadian farm increase.  Through necessity or opportunity, the unmistakable trend has been towards fewer, larger farms.  But will it stay that way forever?

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Right in the Centre - Lots of preparation and anticipation

By Ken Waddell

The Neepawa Banner

The provincial NDP are working on a leadership campaign and preparing for the next Manitoba election. The federal political parties are preparing for an election, even sooner, slated for October 2015. Farmers are preparing budgets and gathering all kinds of inputs for the 2015 crop. Municipal councils are preparing budgets.

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Homebodies - The hats I wear...

Rita Friesen

At a two day meeting I attended, we were challenged to consider all the hats we wear. Not the kind of hat you don to keep your ears warm, but the roles we fill in our living. There are some hats that I have outgrown. I am no longer a daughter, for my parents are deceased. I am a sister. I don’t get to wear the wife hat any more either, but I am a mother and grandmother. I am carefully choosing any other hats I pick.

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