CJOB pulls plug on Hal Anderson, two others

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: On our last day at a beach rental cabin the kids and I were packing up later than the rules asked for, when a familiar car pulled in next door. It was my ex-husband with his new woman and her kids.

My children yelled out, “Look Mom, it’s Daddy! He came to the lake to see us!” and ran over to him for hugs. His girlfriend had the cabin keys dangling, nodded at me, and went inside quickly.

I said to my former husband, “Fancy meeting you here! Come on kids, we’re going home now.” My ex said, “Oh, settle down. Give me a few minutes with my kids, will you?”

So, I finished packing and locked the cabin door, and waited for the kids for 30 minutes in our car. Then I started to cry. It just came gushing out and I couldn’t control it. Finally, my ex brought the children back out. He could see I’d been crying and said in disgust, “Get over it, princess. I have!”

RCMP are seeking the public’s help to identify a person of interest after an all-terrain vehicle and other belongings were stolen from a cottage in southern Manitoba.

The theft happened near near Provincial Road 440 in the Rural Municipality of Louise, about 150 kilometres southwest of Winnipeg, on Aug. 11.

Police said surveillance video showed a man walking onto the property at about 2:30 p.m. while covering his face and holding power tools.

A grinder was used to open a locked shipping container, where a 1982 Honda ATC200 all-terrain vehicle, a Honda EU2000i generator and a Stihl FS90 trimmer were among the items stolen, RCMP said. One of two Spypoint trail cameras was also reported stolen.

Old-fashioned news

I scrolled through the comment section of the online news story, my eyes darting through differing opinions until I landed on one that caught my attention. I felt my shoulders tense and my breath quicken as I read the fiery thoughts of a stranger.

Surely, there must be a better way to read the news?

I thought back to the ’90s. Every morning, my mother would open the front door to retrieve the Winnipeg Free Press. I would jump at the Arts section until I found the comics and giggle while I ate my cereal. My parents absorbed the news while getting ready for their day, and eventually the newspaper found its way to the top of the paper pile in the garage. The next morning, the cycle would repeat itself.

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