Dan Needles
Author and playwright Dan Needles is a recipient of the Leacock Medal for Humour and the Order of Canada. He lives on a small farm in Nottawa.
Science Projects
If you’ve ever wondered why they have height, width and weight restrictions on science projects at your school, it’s because of cousin Eddie’s corn dryer.
Grounding Exercises
I discovered at an early age that people who work outside with their hands tend to be more grounded than the rest of the population.
Dr. Purvis’s 12 Steps to Getting Horse-Free
“Nothing lives longer than a horse with a health problem!” says the vet as he purrs out the lane in his limited edition Land Rover.
Hard Work for Hard Water
Will it last through the family reunion this weekend? Should I have it tested? How do I explain delicately to the guests that long showers are not an option?
Snow Before Morning
All Lorne had to do was sit in a rocking chair with a Bible on his lap as scenes from his life unfolded around him.
A Writer’s Retreat
There was a lot of crumpled paper on the floor, the theme music would falter, and you could see this was all pretty difficult for him.
The Postman
I shared a party line with Kenny for 20 years. It was a forerunner to the Internet chat room and I found it essential for staying abreast of current affairs.
A Favourite Duck
Ferdinand followed Duke around all day, trying to chase cats with him and bark when visitors arrived.
A Hymn to the Small Hall
The community hall is one of the very last places where we are allowed to get together and make something out of nothing, just for the fun of it.
When Birds Go Bad
“Don’t worry. You didn’t kill him. It takes at least a two-by four to kill a rooster.”
The Patter of Little Feet
Looking after babies, even baby rabbits, is one of the best fertility treatments you can take.
This Old House
There is one stubborn neuron in this neighbourhood’s collective brain that will not die and it makes people refer to my house as The Old Currie Place.
A Country Practice
Apart from the little tufts of dental floss sticking out of her head, she looked pretty good.
The Year of the Grape
My son came home one weekend early last spring and asked, “Why don’t you plant some grapevines here on the farm, Dad?”



