Julie Glaser

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A country girl with city roots, Julie Glaser spends far too much time meandering the old mountain trails on horseback, and not enough time writing. She has worked in the industries of film and live production, and has been published in literary periodicals and anthologies, including Fireweed, Tessera, Bent on Writing, and Feminisms and Womanisms. She is delighted to be published in filling Station.



In March of 1970, my grandparents moved house for the twenty-second time in twenty-five years of marriage. They flipped houses long before flipping houses became an investment strategy for 21st century real estate moguls. A diver in the Royal British Navy, my grandfather Jack learned carpentry as a second trade while at sea. His ship salvaged bombed wrecks and it was here that his love for wood took root and he planed, dovetailed and carved his way through his entire duty to the Queen.

Jack, who lied about his tender age in order to enlist, met my grandmother, Sis, while on leave. Sis stopped schooling at fourteen to work in the family’s gardens. Plying the knowledge of her own grandmother, Agnes Norris, Sis had the gift with plants and was famous for her cherry tomatoes. Jack roomed in Sis’ family’s farmhouse and they married before the war was over.

Jack and Sis moved into their first home together in 1946, a Birmingham council house, and got busy, Jack with his tools and Sis with hers. A ‘For Sale’ sign sprung from their garden before the year was out, and from here they set a pace for renovation and relocation. Soon dissatisfied moving just across the street, village or town, in 1956 with children Mary Beth and John in tow, Jack and Sis moved across the ocean and into home number ten, in Canada.

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