MichaelWood.co

🇨🇦 YEG by birth …🗽is home. ..

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

To a dog, every day is the greatest.

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

One wall was doing all the damage and it had to go .. #renovations #interiordesign

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@fiago7 Save your $. It’s a dump.

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@ClownWorld Imagine not noticing in the first place.

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@BartonFairfax @davidfrum Anything but reality, huh ?

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@BioLifex In other words .. swim?

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@amazingmap Charming

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

Instant classic

[Hoodlum 🇺🇸 @NotHoodlum]

SOULLESS TRAIN from @AMOTHFUL_OF_CHERRIES on IG.

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@peterbakernyt @davidfrum @Graham_Bowley @rpogrebin @derrickbryson Dystopia 101

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@peterbakernyt @davidfrum @adamnagourney I’m sure kid rock can fill the void

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

Smart kid

[Math Files @Math_files]

The math teacher isn't always right

[SAY CHEESE! 👄🧀 @SaycheeseDGTL]

Tonight the Oilers are playing the Predators.
Many sports fans are naming this game the…

“Diddy Bowl” 🏒 🥅

[Fletch17 @RealFletch17]

WOW this hit hard!
Enjoy every minute!
It goes in a blink
🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

My lobbying paid off.

[PBS News @NewsHour]

President Donald Trump signed a New Year's Eve proclamation delaying increased tariffs on upholstered furniture, kitchen cabinets and vanities for a year, citing ongoing trade talks.
https://t.co/Ygw14U53TW

[Saganism @Saganismm]

“My parents died years ago. I was very close to them. I still miss them terribly. I know I always will. I long to believe that their essence, their personalities, what I loved so much about them, are - really and truly - still in existence somewhere. I wouldn't ask very much, just five or ten minutes a year, say, to tell them about their grandchildren, to catch them up on the latest news, to remind them that I love them.

There's a part of me - no matter how childish it sounds - that wonders how they are. "Is everything all right?" I want to ask. The last words I found myself saying to my father, at the moment of his death, were "Take care."

Sometimes I dream that I'm talking to my parents, and suddenly - still immersed in the dreamwork - I'm seized by the overpowering realization that they didn't really die, that it's all been some kind of horrible mistake.

Why, here they are, alive and well, my father making wry jokes, my mother earnestly advising me to wear a muffler because the weather is chilly. When I wake up I go through an abbreviated process of mourning all over again. Plainly, there's something within me that's ready to believe in life after death. And it's not the least bit interested in whether there's any sober evidence for it.

So I don't guffaw at the woman who visits her husband's grave and chats him up every now and then, maybe on the anniversary of his death. It's not hard to understand. And if I have difficulties with the ontological status of who she's talking to, that's all right. That's not what this is about. This is about humans being human.”

― Carl Sagan

[The Onion @TheOnion]

At Least Child Laborer Not Staring At iPad All Day https://t.co/WO4JZcjlgD

[MichaelWood.co @MichaelWoodCo]

@davidfrum ”He’s managed to cover 90% of his head with 30% of his hair”.
- Christopher Hitchens

[The Tennessee Holler @TheTNHoller]

Devastating— “I’m afraid for my parents to leave the house. They treat us like dogs because of the color of our skin. I shouldn’t be scared, I should be focusing on school.”

A 16yo American living in fear of the Trump regime’s ICE goons terrorizing brown people pleads for help.

[The Onion @TheOnion]

Trump Touts Productive Call With Putin About Ballroom Sconces https://t.co/H2JZpGXX1o

[Cian McCarthy @arealmofwonder]

Rest in peace, Patricia Routledge 🙏🏻

In memory of her, I encourage everyone to read these words of hers from February last year.

Whether young or old, you're bound to get something out of it.

*****

"I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.

My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.

At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.

At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.

At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.

At 80, I took up watercolour painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.

Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.

I’m writing this to tell you something simple:

Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.

Let these years ahead be your TREASURE YEARS.

You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.

You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.

With love and gentleness,

Patricia Routledge

*****

Once more, rest in peace. 🤍