Pique'n Yer Interest

I want to introduce you to two heroes of mine. Jeanne Sarson and Linda MacDonald are two community health nurses in Truro, N.S. Twenty-three years ago, they came to the aid of a woman who called their private practice helpline late one night.

You know how when you were just a snot-nosed kid and you thought your jamoke of a teacher never noticed you conspicuously passing love notes to your hopeless crush in math class? Yeah, hate to break it to you, but he knew the whole time.

Alex and I were on the road for nine days before we had our first big meltdown. We were drunk in an Austin, Texas theatre, waiting for Amy Schumer to take the stage and sitting in the wrong seats.

Given the headline and its Mariah Carey reference, coupled with the recent passing of Valentine's Day, you could certainly expect this column to be something mushy, possibly gross and definitely containing too much information. Nah.

Having been away from Whistler since November, I've missed most of a winter (a first).

I have a dear friend who is kicking herself right now. She received an email claiming to be from the Canada Revenue Agency (CRA) last week, telling her she had a tax refund owed to her from 2014 and asking for detailed personal information.

Maybe you've heard; Canada is finally cool. It only took 150 some-odd years, about as many soaring Celine Dion power ballads and the ongoing (and hilarious) butchering of the word "about," but we did it, y'all.

When I saw the extreme cold warnings posted for my home province of Saskatchewan over the weekend (-46 in Estevan with the windchill — no joke) the first thing I did was check the forecast for Whistler.

Some corners of the Whistler web have launched some criticism that our annual Best of Whistler feature is nothing more than a popularity contest. Well, truthfully, since the entry gaining the most votes wins, that's accurate.

Spend time in developing countries and you know: daily life confronts the more acute problems of humanity.