When I'm not writing books with Sandy, I can usually be found on a film set, where life is anything but dull. I've hung off the side of Toronto's CN tower, faced down a Grizzly bear, danced with Gregory Hines, and shared a beer with Ireland's Lord Guinness.
In 2003, Panavision Canada recognized my camera skills with the coveted Woody Award. It's an honor. Really.
And to think I almost became a cop. Fortunately for the citizens of Toronto, I flunked the psychological profile. Then, there was my brief stint as a bank manager, but I don't want to dwell on that.
Better to dwell on the restaurant job where I met the man who became my husband. I was the bartender; he was the busboy. It's still a perfect match: I get to call the "shots" and he cleans up after me. More importantly, he cleans up after our schnauzer, whom we affectionately describe as a four-bagger (Note: Dog-owners, you know what I'm talking about here).
I am a tea granny and a home dècor magazine junkie. I play the piano, although I don't own one. I own two guitars, although I don't play them. I sing to my dog, wear fleece even in summer, and never miss an episode of Coronation Street.
I could go on, but my tea is cold. And let's face it, you probably stopped reading after I mentioned the Woody Award.
“Thanks to Scoop, I've learned a lot about how the male mind works, and as a result I've been having nightmares for months.”