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When I first began studying Canadian history back in the 1970s, Donald Creighton, the old curmudgeon of Canadian historiography, was past his prime. He was already being criticized for being anti-Quebec, deaf to Aboriginal issues, blind to the social history that had moved to centre stage.

All of which was true. Yet when I first...

One of the best reasons I know of to get out of bed every morning is the expectation that Sadie Stein might have posted one of her delightful reports at The Paris Review blog.

Yesterday Ms Stein revealed herself to be the only other person besides myself (OK, I'm exaggerating) to use the term quasquicentennial in a sentence. Next time you are at a dinner party, tell everyone to turn their cellphones off and ask if anyone knows...

The generosity of family allows me to spend time regularly on Savary Island, a small piece of paradise adrift in the Salish Sea. 

For Christmas this year I acquired a camera, the first I have owned since I toured Europe in 1966 with a little Kodak Instamatic. I have recently been conducting forays on foot into the history of Vancouver and I've felt the urge to record what I see.

Here are some results of the convergence of these two enthusiasms -- Savary Island and photography...

Many years ago I lived in an apartment with Babe Rainbow. When I moved out and then got married, the Babe took a different path but she turned up recently and once again adorns the walls of my office.

Babe Rainbow is one of a series of "fictitious lady wrestlers" imagined in 1968 by the British artist Peter Blake. Blake is still going strong, as...