When December hits

My father’s letters continue to intrigue me.  Today I was looking over a December 23rd letter.  Dad’s job had not worked out, he was on the unemployment roll, and living in Stayner, Ontario.

A few days earlier, he and his brother were both in the same building – the library/museum.  Neither saw each other.  But later on they compared notes. 

“We thought it was a corker that we missed each other.”

I love that word “corker.” 

My father used it often.  Some days, when things happen, I’m waiting to hear my dad mention “that’s a corker.”  If we kids did something unusual, our would pop that word!  Perhaps that’s why I love creativity and innovation. 

Now, isn’t that a corker!

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