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Scribbling in the margins · alexandrawolfe.ca · British English

Hi, I’m Alexandra, a tea drinking, word-obsessed, humanoid, with an over active imagination. When not scribbling on random bits of paper, or doodling in my journal, I capture my thoughts with a butterfly net, stuff them into tiny glass jars with brass lids, and store them on dusty shelves in various

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Last post: Sep 16, 2026
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Last Meals
Sep 16, 2026 · original
This weekend we caught a couple of episodes of a new show on Netflix called: Last Meal , in which the host, Josh Scherer from Mythical Kitchen , interviews a celebrity about their lives whilst enjoying what they would eat for their last meal on Earth. Hence the name of the show. Funnily enough Gabz talked about this over on Mastodon too, writing in his post Last Meal all the delicious things he’d have for his last meal. So of course, I had to follow suit and write about what I would love to eat as my Last Meal. First Course I would start with a soup, Gazpacho to be exact. And not any Gazpacho, my fav was made by the head chef at the Musee des Beaux Arts restaurant here, in Quebec City. It was bursting with flavour and definitely up there in soup heaven. Second Course I’d follow that up with my favourite ham & mushroom pizza ( or, even just a slice ) from the No. 900 which does the best p
I Walk
Sep 15, 2026 · original
I like to walk, and walk a lot. Though maybe not anywhere near like a pro. My walk is about as brisk as an ambulatory dinosaur on a long trek to the feeding grounds. When outside, there are frequent stops, detours, sightseeing, and moments to take photos. There is nothing rushed or vigorous about my outdoor walks. Inside, however, is a different story. This is usually where I do my serious walking because, for seven months of the year, due to something called winter, I'm a caged animal, stuck inside, going stir-crazy, and like any pre-historic sabre-toothed pussy cat, I need an outlet. Mine comes in the form of doing circuits, because the layout of my apartment has provided me with interconnecting rooms. Rooms being a term used loosely to describe partitions dividing up one large room into several smaller spaces . Here, I am in my element doing mindless circuits timed by the meecro-wah-v
On the Bus
Sep 13, 2026 · original
This Saturday I had to take the bus to go run errands and pick up some fresh produce at my favourite shops. When I got to my stop I made to get off the bus but found my way blocked by a determine young woman who wanted to get on the bus. Get on the bus without paying I should point out. At first I was confused and asked her what she thought she was doing. Then, realising exactly what it was she was doing, I put out both arms to block her fraudulent entry to the bus. The look I got could have started world war three. And then … it happened. I was assaulted. In as much she physically shoved me so that I took a step backwards and as I did so, she stepped past me swearing at me. I was more than startled. I was shocked at being pushed and that she actually went so far as to lay hands on me. The whole time this is going on, no one, not one person watching what happened came to my side, spoke u
Let’s Get Creamed
Sep 11, 2026 · original
One of the more fun things about my parents was how each of them solved a particular family argument. One that pops to mind today was the popular argument over whose turn it was to get the cream from the top of the bottle of milk. This is back in the day when the Milkman came at the crack of dawn and delivered—to our house at least—5 bottles of milk each and every morning. And back in the day when, with five of her six kids to feed each and every breakfast, more often than not—because my mother didn't buy boxed cereal till, I think, we'd all but left home—she would make a large, and I mean, large pan of porridge every morning. She made it the good old fashioned Scottish way, with cold water, oats, and salt. Lots of salt as I recall. We'd all race to the breakfast table to get a serving while it was still hot. The bickering was always over whose turn it was to get the cream. We soon learn
Bonjour Hello
Sep 9, 2026 · original
I can't help myself, when I hear an English accent while I'm out shopping, I automatically orientate towards the person speaking. And, usually, because I make eye contact and smile, get a response. And thus I start either a brief chat with another English speaker, sharing a few moments. On occasion I've even spent an hour or two talking to someone, usually a visitor to our fair City. Like the last couple of days, and again, this morning. I just happened to arrive at my bus stop as a fraught woman came rushing up to me and in French, while waving her phone in my face, telling me the bus would not stop here and that I needed to walk to the next stop and, before I'd even formed a response, she was off walking down the sidewalk. But right behind her, bemused at her antics, were a couple who came up and asked me what she'd said. I began to explain and, one sentence in, the woman interrupted m
Second Chances
Aug 25, 2026 · original
Today is the day I got a second chance when the surgeon—this time last year—removed a foot of colon in order to exorcise a small cancerous growth. I am eternally thankful to be one of the lucky ones. Things could have gone oh so differently if they hadn’t caught this early enough. One year on, I feel more positive and healthy than I have been in the last four years. And, as a result of this surgery, and everything I went through, I now have a future again. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Walking the Walk
Aug 24, 2026 · original
I was reading Craig Mod’s essay, Walking the Length of Manhattan , this morning, which left me wondered about some of the epic walks I’ve done in my life. I haven’t walked the full length of Manhattan but I must have come close while I lived and worked there back in the 80s. Every weekend I walked and walked and walked. I never really did the metro and rarely bother with the bus. Traffic was as silly back then as it is now. So why not walk? It was definitely faster to get from A to B. As a teenager with a couple of friends who, likeminded, love camping and walking, I walked all over the Lake District. No, silly, not all at once. But slowly, over time. I think I did them all, or I should say, we did. Maybe I might not have done so many or finished half the harder walks if not for my two stalwart companions. I think we egged one another on to finish some of the more strenuous and dangerous
Haircuts
Aug 22, 2026 · original
I realised something today while sat in the chair at the hairdressers as Suzanne got out the razor. The fact that, as a child probably from the age of 4 onwards, it wasn’t my mother who took me to the hairdressers to get my hair cut, but my dad. As in, I went with him and my 2 older brothers to the barbers and then, later, all 4 brothers. No mother or older sister in sight. I was always sat with the boys getting my hair cut by a barber, and cut short like my brothers. Right up until I was eleven I went to the barbers and always had short hair rather than the usual long hair most girls had. It wasn’t till after my 11th birthday that I stopped going to get my hair cut. My hair was just left to grow, and grow, and grow. And yes, it did grow. Not because I wanted it to grow. Or I was asked whether I wanted long hair; I didn’t. I had no choice in the matter. Neither as a child or as a teen. M
Silent Sanity
Aug 20, 2026 · original
Today. Today is a day to be quiet. To hold my own. To put the soap box away. To not let something I read online get the better of me. Today is a day for calm reflecting. For contemplation the quiet moments between doing and not doing. Between being and not being. Today is a day to let the shit of people’s online opinions not affect me. I don’t need to respond. I won’t respond. Life is too short to be caught up in online bullshit. Not every opinion needs to be expressed. Not every opinion needs to be shared; especially online. My mother always said: “ If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything .” I shall just quietly sit here, look out the window at passing clouds, and reflect on human nature, and how to improve my own life for the better. Be that with poetry, with song, and with kindness. Always, with kindness. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Morning Rituals
Aug 11, 2026 · original
While the OH’s coffee has them thinking of past coffees, and remembering other times, other places, and conversing with cats about the weather. I find it’s that first cup of tea that sparks my brain into life. Especially if it’s a cool morning then, I sip it outside, in the shade on the balcony, listening to the sparrows in our privacy hedge chirruping at one another. Their frenetic chatter is a constant and I often wonder what it is that they find to talk about, endlessly, as the sun slowly edges its way around our apartment building, bringing glimpses of the day to come. Like this morning, the subtle change from cool through to humid. I brought out the water bottle this morning, filled the bird bath and sat to one side sipping my mint tea. They came, they danced at my feet. Sipped the water and told me it’s going to be another hot one, and offered thanks for the water. At least, in my
Self Belief
Aug 10, 2026 · original
I think I have this weird sense of self belief [see: I Can Do This ] in part because I’m a middle child. A forgotten child. I’m sure not all middle children feel the same, or even grow up the same. But with four brothers and a much older sister, I was, for the most part, the forgotten one who lived in a world of her own. I was a dreamer wandering a fantastical landscape of my own imagination where I could be both a super hero one minute, and a whale the next. No wonder I never heard my mother half the time when she called my name. I was Ultra Man fighting a monster from the depths of the ocean, or Superman brandishing my x-ray vision to see inside a building, or Wonder Woman battling some bad guy with my shield, sword, and lariat of truth. I wandered through fields of dandelions thinking they were fairy artillery, chasing butterflies who were secretly ridden by pixies being dive-bombed b
Another Time
Aug 9, 2026 · original
I would live in a rambling, rose covered cottage on the edge of a forgotten English village, lost in the mists of time, that only a descendent of the ancient Queen Mab might find if they knew how to call the boat to cross the river, where Avalon is still bathed in a Golden light that lingers as the sun sets in the west of a place bordering between here and there. A place that smells of violets and honey, where spring waters run fresh and clear, and apple trees buzz with activity and pale pink blossom covers verdant grass, next to poppies that gently sway to the rhythm of a wind who whispers long forgotten secrets. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
I can do This
Aug 7, 2026 · original
I’ve never really held back from jumping in at the deep end, with both feet, not worrying whether in fact I can swim or not. I created my own self-belief long ago. Something I think I learnt from a very early age; maybe 3-4 years old? Preschool, one bright sunny afternoon, poolside, I took a huge flying leap towards some random guy in the pool my sister was dating who, arms open ready to catch me, turned at the very second I flew over his shoulders, whereupon I landed in the water with a rather loud splash. Far from drowning, I found myself laughing happily as I doggy paddled toward the side of the pool as if I’d been doing this forever. Only to climb out and scream at the man to catch me. And that’s how I learnt to swim. Not a moments thought or hesitation, I didn’t know any better. No one had chided me, or warned me not jump in the pool if I couldn’t swim. I just assumed as everyone el
Water Baby
Aug 5, 2026 · original
I talked yesterday briefly about how I love clouds, adore them really. There’s something dreamlike and peaceful, well, at the best of times. There’s also another element I was born to: water. I’m a Pisces and natural born water baby. Sometimes I think I’m part mermaid I love the water that much. But, just like changeable clouds, I have a healthy respect for water, especially the sea. Like cloud and water in general, the sea is a living entity. Alive in a way all elemental forces are. Not sentient, but still, you almost feel like they’re aware. Dangers aside, this hasn’t stopped me jumping in any large ( and sometimes, small ) bodies of water throughout my life. Quite often this has been spontaneous, accompanied with or without the proper attire, sometimes swimming in nothing more than my birthday suit. But not, I must add, in mixed company. I’m not that much of an exhibitionist. Though t
Zombie Cults
Jun 8, 2026 · original
Truly, it’s quite frightening when you stop to think about it, organised religions are nothing short of zombie cults . Nearly everyone of them promotes and pushes the premise of us all being resurrected at some future point, to the greater glory of the whatever god (small g) it is they’re pushing. They’re resurrecting what, exactly? Our dead rotting and mouldering bodies? Turning us into zombies in the process? Is our future to be our rotting bloated corpses sitting out in the open in all weathers? What? Sorry, I can’t hear you in the back … no? What’s the alternative, that our eternal souls are left lingering in our graves (just make sure you don’t burn, as what the hell is that going to do to our souls? Released like so much over heated gas become one large fart?) Sorry, I digress. So where was I? Oh, yes, lingering souls … is that what ghosts are? What? We’re supposed to go to heaven
Striking a Chord
May 22, 2026 · original
Music has and will always been a huge part of my life. It’s been with me from such an early age, helping me escape (like books) into another world, where I could be myself. Away from others and, at times, with others. From huge venues with tens of thousands to small hall concerts in intimate settings that made the music all the more powerful and moving. I’ve enjoyed it all. From nobodies starting out, to big name groups like Pink Floyd and Abba, to Emerson, Lake and Palmer, to the Rolling Stones before they were mega rock stars. Through the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s, I’ve transitioned, changed and grown, along with my choice of music. But have never lost the love for all music be it classical, opera, or middle of the road pop to heavy death metal. I’ve listened to it all and found something that has touched me at every level, whatever the source. Be it the actual melodies, or lack thereof, t
A Bird in the Bush
May 14, 2026 · original
It’s cool, it’s overcast and showers are forecast for throughout the day. I took my early morning brew out on the balcony to listen to the sparrows chatter, watched two squirrels fighting over who owns the privacy hedge, and didn’t have the heart to tell them: neither of them do. That it’s the dominion of the sparrows. Their number has grown extensively in the time me and mine have been living in the apartment. And not least because I put fat balls out for them during the winter, along with seed, and make sure there’s always fresh water for them. It’s not allowed. It’s in the apartment least: do not feed the wildlife. But, until they serve papers on me, I’m not about to stop. This for me is a joy, a pleasure, one that comes with its own small rewards, even if I might find myself in trouble one day. I’d fight tooth and nail that I can put out on my balcony anything I want, as long as it d
Bucket Lists
May 13, 2026 · original
Way back when I was a kid, and travelling to exotic and not so exotic places, I had dreams of travelling on my own, as an adult, and seeing some of the last remaining wonders of the world. I made a bucket list of places I wanted to visit long before there was even such a thing as bucket lists. Sadly, a lot of those places which I have yet to visit, are no longer safe places to go, or even all that desirable given how time and man (in his infinite stupidity) has marched on. Places like, Ulan Bator ( Ulaan Baator , meaning Red Hero), in central Mongolia. The fabled centre of a continent that inspired my childhood imagination of war lords and warriors on horseback roaming the wild plains. It was still on my list up until a few years ago and then, after reading a National Geographic article on what had become of the once beautiful, wild, and pristine area, my heart broke into a thousand tiny
Beyond the Veil
Apr 13, 2026 · original
It’s raining. A soft drizzle. Gentle in its insistence. Coming straight down. It’s been raining since the wee small hours. I awoke at around 1:30 am this morning to hear its soft plink plink against the window. There was something rhythmic in its random symphony. So subtle it lulled me quietly back to sleep only to wake me again later, at around 5:30 ish . I think it was lonely, wanted conversation. It had been quietly calling to anyone who would listen, ‘ hey there, hey there, hey there …’ I spent a few more minutes listening but again, it lulled me back to sleep. A wonderful, dream-free sleep. And now? Sitting here, once again, it’s mesmerising me, gently lulling me to drift off into a tumble of random thoughts thinking of the ethereal world just beyond ours. Of fairies and gnomes, pixies and sprites. The curtain of rain a thin gossamer divide between two worlds that, if I look hard en
Spider Spider
Mar 26, 2026 · original
“Incy wincy spider crawled across the wall Incy wincy spider doesn’t care at all As incy wincy spider know I won’t squash him Or squish him with a tissue and throw him in the bin.” Despite being terrified of spiders as a child — and for good reason, living abroad meant we were in contact with monsters that grew to a seemingly unnatural size — as an adult, I have become more tolerant and even, dare I say it, almost best friends with one particular variety of spider. The dashing and rather well named Zebra Spider. This tiny little fellow is a voracious hunter whose territory is large and all encompassing. They patrol day and night all over the floor, walls, and yes, ceiling, looking for pray and, I am reliably informed, will eat just about anything that moves. Thankfully, that doesn’t include me or mine, otherwise … well, it would be all out war. I got over my fear of spiders years ago, no

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