Pique'n Yer Interest

I'm no fair-weather hockey fan. I'll watch a good tilt no matter who is playing. That's why each spring, I greedily look forward to an almost nightly consumption of Stanley Cup Playoff games.

Even these days, it isn't often that an art gallery puts together an exhibition with the input of "civilians.

Last Thursday, a visibly shaken Douglas de Grood, a 30-year veteran of Calgary's police force, stood before a room full of reporters in the wake of the worst mass killing in the city's history.

For most nostalgic hockey fans in this country, the end of Hockey Night in Canada as we know it pulls at the heartstrings.

Near the end of March, 2013, with the cattails lying flat and brown in forlorn mats, a handful of folks huddled on a boardwalk that zigzags into Cootes Paradise Marsh and trained their spotting scopes on the bald eagle nest crowning a sturdy white pi

BC Culture Days is six months away, but the province-wide festival of the arts and creative professions is already looking for participants. Early registration has opened for the festival, which runs this year from Sept. 26 to 28.

It's no secret that the most direct way to a journalist's heart is through the stomach. We're a simple folk, we reporters, and we enjoy our simple pleasures, which consist mostly of free food.

We were somewhere near the Weinerstrasse on the edge of Luzern when the bats appeared. It was pitch black and 5 a.m. so maybe bats weren't unusual.

I moved to the Manhattan of Squamish last week. And when I write week, I mean it. It took seven days in a kind of slow-mo nightmare that reminded me of the existence of my biceps and made my feet hurt. A lot.

One of my favourite side effects of the Winter Olympics is that it's the one time that Canadians are more unapologetically patriotic than any other.