Deborah McNevin

Grey Matters columnist Deborah McNevin is a relatively long-time Yukoner and a relatively new senior, part of the writers’ collective for this column.

The author's bounty from her great-grandmother

New Adventures, Old Heirlooms

About eight or nine years ago, my dad’s cousin’s widow called out of the blue to berate me (in her high-toned British accent) because I didn’t let her know about my mom’s passing. I didn’t want to explain that I didn’t even know this relative was still alive or that she was still in touch …

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grippers and cutter

Grey Matters: Grip and gripes

I’m coming to grips with how bad my grip is. Some things that have gotten better with time, my ability to tolerate my arthritis has not.

Old Boler, older bones

The Boler trailer was built in Manitoba around 1973. It’s not as old as my old bones, for sure, but there are a number of similarities.

Of time and tech

I thought that as I aged, and if my eyesight couldn’t be fixed by cataract surgery, it would be good to be able to do more things by voice and by ear.

Old dog, new tricks

Hercule Poirot, the famous Belgian detective of Agatha Christie’s novels, said “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” I was a bit surprised recently, to find that I can indeed learn new things even when I feel like an old dog. When I retired, the little grey cells were feeling stagnant (I’d love to …

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Vision quest

I started to develop cataracts. With all the other eye problems, surgery was the best option. I adjusted to enduring more decline in my eyesight until my spot in line came up, but thanks to a cancellation I got to have the surgery done in both eyes this past month. 

Online connections

In the old days–good or otherwise–interpersonal connections were via letter or phone or face-to-face. Now there are any number of interactions that can take place online and can lead to connections with real people. For example, Facebook, where you can use your trigger finger to like what you see. You may get a momentary buzz of …

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Bridge too far

It began innocently enough. At a gathering shortly after I stopped working, I overheard a friend mentioning that another friend had said she was going to learn bridge in order to have something to do in the nursing home.

Youth is a gift; age is an art

The phrase I want to use as a mantra is “Age is an art.” It’s part of the saying, “Youth is a gift, age is an art,” printed on a button that I gave my grandmother many years ago.

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