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Countdown to Mother's Day: Crow

Welcome back to our countdown to Mother’s Day! We’re sharing mom-themed excerpts and offering 20% off our special mom-themed collection with discount code MOM20 until May 10th. We can deliver that perfect gift, direct to her door.

Don’t forget, we’re offering free shipping on orders over $25 in Canada until the end of June!

Today, we’re looking at this great excerpt from Crow. Crow’s mama has a big heart and great sense of humour. Let’s take a look . . .


“Christ Almighty, child, I didn’t mean for you to walk! Get in.” Mama huffs out the window of Bessie, her beat-up maroon 1995 Toyota Corolla as she rolls up alongside me. I’d been traipsing down the dirt roadside for a mere seven minutes. Five more, and I’d be there. It seems silly to get in the car. But I do it anyway. I plunk my arse down in the front passenger seat and promptly start to argue with her.

“Ma, it’s not far.”

“I don’t give a flying fiddler’s fart if it’s within pissing distance. You’re in your friggin’ pyjamas, no bra on, your hair’s a rat’s nest, and you’re . . .”

Silence.

“Ma, I’m fine.”

She cocks her eyebrow to an angle that says, Liar. Then she slams on the brakes.

“Fine? Fine. Get out then. Just don’t come cryin’ to me when Peggy goes telling everyone and their dog that you were down at The Wharf this morning dressed like a streel.”

“Please. I’ve got better things to cry about.”

“Suit yourself. I’ve got to go lend Flossie Baker a hand. She hurt her hip again. I’ll pick you up at nine thirty-five on the nose for that doctor’s appointment. Here. Hot tea in that there cup thing of yours.”

“Thanks, Ma. Loves ya,” I half snort as I grab the travel mug from the console and get out of the car.

“Damn right you do!” I hear out the window as she wheels around and drives off.


About Crow: When Stacey Fortune is diagnosed with three highly unpredictable — and inoperable — brain tumours, she abandons the crumbling glamour of her life in Toronto for her mother Effie's scruffy trailer in rural Cape Breton. Back home, she's known as Crow, and everybody suspects that her family is cursed.

Amy Spurway was born and raised on Cape Breton, where, at the age of 11, she landed her first writing and performing gigs with CBC Radio. She has worked as a communications consultant, editor, speechwriter, and performer. Her writing has appeared in Today's Parent, the Toronto StarBabble, and Elephant Journal. She lives in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.

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