Knit Happens
There’s something about the days growing shorter and the return of the inescapable rain that calls me back to knitting. I guess it’s because I’m a looker. Rest assured: I’m
I blame my mother. If Francine hadn’t left the online course catalogue lying about, I’d never have taken the class devoted to writing stories about your children.
It was the perfect course for me.
Life swerved when my husband died. Our two children were still very young and I was determined his premature demise wouldn’t define their lives; he’d expect nothing less.
My primary focus? Ensuring they’d not miss out on experiences he would have introduced them to.
With the three of us soon rocketing between ice rinks, pools, playing fields and local mountains, we enjoyed tight, busy lives. Toss in the fact I’m a quirk magnet, and yes, I had stories galore.
The positive feedback from this online course gave me the confidence to seek out a larger audience. I began writing for an online newspaper and my stories were soon published in community newspapers across Canada, on websites and in various anthologies.
I launched my own blog, Just TypiKel, initially writing about how my two survived being raised by me. However, once I introduced posts about Francine, my often busier-than-me nonagenarian mother, readers clamored to know more about her.
Just TypiKel’s success got Francine nudging me to write a book about the decade we survived working together in her iconic Vancouver Asian antique store.
Never, Never, Hardly Ever was published a few months before Francine passed away at the age of 101.
Cheers, Mom! And thank you. Your online course catalogue changed my life.
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There’s something about the days growing shorter and the return of the inescapable rain that calls me back to knitting. I guess it’s because I’m a looker. Rest assured: I’m

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