Notice of Copyright consists of these parts:

Epub edition is copyright 2015 Published by Tablo.  All rights reserved.

 No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Text copyright 2006 by Catherine M. Harris
Photographs, sketches, images, paintings copyright 2006 by Catherine M. Harris

With the exception of:

• The photo of the author in the last poem and the back cover  is copyright 2006 by James R. Wellington;

• The Poem “To Grampa” was dictated to the author by her 3 year old daughter, copyright 1995 Erin C. Davies.

The illustrations here are all done by the author.  Some are full fledged paintings, some are sketches, still others are things done in Photoshop using photos or are simply photos taken by the author.  There isn't a comprehensive list because really, if there is an image you wish to purchase for some reason, please contact the author.  It's enough that they're all done by her. 

Paperback edition was published by Lulu.com in 2015, ISBN 978-1-329-39426-1

Hardcover edition was published by Lulu.com in 2009, ISBN 978-0-557-05442-8

Original 5x8 paperback edition was published in 2006 by CafePress Inc (no longer in print), ISBN 0-9780894-05.

Well here it is.  My first published book.  Knowing that there are many who will not take this as a serious publication unless it is blessed by academia, me with a dozen degrees listed after my name and published by a known publishing house after being courted and accepted by a known agent, it would be tempting to say, “Who cares?”  But you know what?  I do. 

So here's the thing.  I love the fact you are reading this.  I am even happier if in some small way I have touched you, or made you think, or caused a smile or a tear to sneak onto your face.  This is all the more special because this book isn't in front of you on book stands, it was out in the ether waiting. So first and foremost, this book is dedicated to you the reader who was kind enough to take a chance and read this.

Beyond that, this is dedicated to Jim who, as a life long writer himself knows what it's like to be tortured by words no one will likely ever read, and still he puts them to paper.  He'll read what I write when asked and a plus, Virgo eyes make for good editing.

It is also and especially dedicated to my children who understand that mommy isn't perfect, hasn't got enough time or money or whatever to be all that they want but still love me anyway.  And to my mother, who also loves me anyway:  her not very perfect daughter.

This is to the friends who thought it was really neat I did this when others said why in the heck would you want to?  They may not have understood the drive, but they liked that I did it anyway. This is to the people who have published my work:  Talk of The Town, The Toronto Star, The Mississauga Library, StoryTeller Magazine, among others.  Thanks.  I mean it.

This is also to my grade 7 English teacher who swore that I should and would write books and told me to just keep writing.  And to Hal Lawrence, an excellent short story editing course teacher and wonderful writer who liked my story of the sea enough to write me back to say he still remembered it when I congratulated him on winning an award.  That meant a lot to a very young writer.

This is very much in memory of my aunt Lorna D. Young who, while she firmly believed academia was the way to go was really happy when I got published anyway.  I miss her. 

And, to my dad who was a dear friend who loved my stories and my songs and paintings; these were all things he loved to do, but didn't quite have desire as I do to put them out there but we loved to talk about it.  Dad, I miss you most of all. 

To Russell, a good writer himself who was lost in economics and official papers and who, when he died, left the world without publishing those wonderful stories he wrote.  I know because I typed some of them for him, and I really wish I had kept a copy.

And lastly, this is to the small voice that keeps me up late at night and haunts me until the words are put to paper.  Every writer has such a voice, and whatever you want to call it, muse, a gift, a curse, none of this would be possible without that mysterious something every writer is born with.  Bless it and all of us.

Thanks for buying this book.