Alberta - WOW!

Not so long ago, I found out that  my father, Romeo Girard, was indeed a Romeo. I have a brother I didn't know about and he lives in Alberta. That was the first WOW!  

I had never been to western Canada, but I had always wanted to visit it. Now, I had a great reason to go there, but I needed a companion because I'm not as able bodied as I once was.  My daughter, Nancy, will soon celebrate a milestone birthday so I asked her if she would like to go. She said yes. Hooray!  I began to plan our trip.

My brother is much younger than me and still works full-time so we arranged to meet on a weekend. I did not want to fly on a weekend and I needed to book the days away that would suit my daughter's work schedule so; we flew out to Calgary via West Jet on a Thursday and returned on the following Thursday. We had a rental car and our hotel was near the airport. It turns out that my brother, Lorne, is a man with a warm heart  who gives great hugs and does have some of my father's facial features. There is a lot of history to share as we learn about each other and our families.

While I was planning the trip, I had contacted three fellow writers, two of them were folks I only knew through  my years of posting on Facebook.  The response from all three was amazing. Another WOW! 

My dear friend, Lori Hahnel, offered to drive us to and from Banff, and did. She also joined us for lunch three times. I am very thankful for her friendship, she went not just the extra mile, but many extra miles for us,  and we always had more to say. Her latest novel,  Flicker, is available from University of Calgary Press. It's excellent.

 Lori Roadhouse Haney, who is a poet and educator,  and Ted Haney invited us for supper at their home and delighted Nancy with three Alberta beef choices. They have travelled the world and we especially enjoyed hearing about their years in Burma. Not only did they feed us,  but also,  thanks to Ted's membership in a Scots whisky club, I sampled a lovely smokey one.

Lee Kvern and Paul Rasporich invited us to visit them after our lunch in Okotoks and they offered us fresh pastries from the local French bakery.  Their home is filled with their art it is fascinating to see the contrast in their styles. Both of them are painters, and both write, too. We were given prints of Lee and Paul's work to take home. Lee has another book coming out in 2025. Paul and Lee had a joint art exhibition recently. Paul has a series of how-to-draw videos on YouTube and they are terrific. Look for Art with Raspo    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTZL9k8yKxs   WOW!

One of the highlights of the trip was seeing the mountains in Banff National Park. There were clouds but they simply added to the majesty of the Rockies and made their height and grandeur more evident. While we were there we had lunch in the Vermillion room of the Banff Springs Hotel. If you ever go there, be prepared to spend spend spend, but I would do it again if I could. WOW!

Calgary sprawls over miles and miles - and the road directions can be confusing - Crowfoot Trail South East, North made no sense to us at first but GPS saved us even if we had to loop the loop to find our way, but hey! it's the west and it's a go- big place. I have pictures.

Until next time.

Father's Day Thoughts

 Father's Day Thoughts

My maternal grandfather became my father figure when I was about six years old and he was a wholly admirable substitute. On the other hand, my 'real' father vanished shortly after we, my mother my brother and I, moved in with my mother's parents.  At the time it was a great mystery to me. Why did we have to move and where did he go?  I have a few vivid memories of our life before he left us. 

He had charmed my mother into marrying him. The problem, or at least one of the problems, was that he charmed other young women too. He also enjoyed alcohol and betting on the horses. Unfortunately that meant there was almost no money left over for supporting his wife and two children.  Before long, my grandparents discovered that our living situation was disastrous. Soon after that we moved in with them. 

In the beginning, I believe my mother hoped it would be a short-term situation. She went to work full time. She had graduated from high school but in the late 1940's her low wages didn't enable her to rent a place for herself and her two children.  My brother and I had bedrooms in the basement of my grandparents home. The basement flooded every spring and sometimes in the fall, too.  My mother updated her education and learned bookkeeping skills and we all continued to live with her parents. 

I'm sure it was not a friction-less time for my mother or for my grandparents; but any disagreements took place very quietly.  Truly, my grandfather was a quiet man. I can't recall him ever raising his voice but he never needed to. He could make me feel guilty with a look.  My brother and I were told often not to raise our voices and to respect him. He had served in France in World War One and experienced its horrors,  He was not a church-going man, but if I was singing a solo  or performing in a play at the church he would be there. In his quiet way, he was supportive of anything I tried for.   He also taught us, my brother and me how to shoot a rifle. There was a target range in Woodslee and he took us there to practice. He had learned to shoot as a boy because he grew up in a village in rural Ontario and there was a rifle club. He was an excellent shot and had to use that skill during the war but he never mentioned it, or anything else about his war service.

He had a heart attack and died when I was twenty and still living at home. He loved us as a father should. I honour him and I miss him still.

A Tale of Two Symphonies

The Kitchener-Waterloo Symphony was founded in 1944  and The Windsor Symphony began in 1947. It was a time of optimism and beginnings in both cities. It's worth noting that both cities were primarily focused on industry and most inhabitants were working class. Windsor was producing cars for Ford Chrysler and General Motors while Kitchener had a mix of manufacturers. 

Both symphonies had crises at different times. The Windsor Symphony faced a financial crunch from 1987 to 1990, the musician's pay was cut and they went on strike. However;  the orchestra managed to survive. The solo artists it highlights are Canadian and it commissions new works by Canadian composers.

Back in 2006, the board of Kitchener Waterloo Symphony said it would be forced to declare the organization bankrupt; but a successful fundraising campaign generated 2.5 million and saved it temporarily. Unfortunately and inexplicably, the K-W Symphony was declared bankrupt in late September 2023. Orchestra members were given only twenty-four hours notice  that the season was cancelled. The entire symphony board resigned.  Former orchestra members continue to work on fund raising.

I am still gobsmacked at how this could have happened. How has Windsor managed to continue to support its symphony even though the Detroit Symphony, a major U.S. symphony, is only a mile away across the river; but the Kitchener-Waterloo region which is a tech hub and has many wealthy people has allowed the K-W symphony to die? Yes the pandemic had an effect but it had an effect everywhere.

 Perhaps eventually more will be revealed. In the mean time, the campaign by the musicians continues. You can donate here if you wish.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-your-kwsymphony-musicians

My Life is Like a Matinee

These days, getting ready for almost any activity involves some time-consuming preparation at night, and in the morning.  That leaves me with only the afternoon and a little of the early evening to get into any mischief, or to do any necessary but boring chores.  

I'm in my eighth decade now and am still learning to cope with my new status. It's not easy because there are hardly any precedents in my family. No role models, unless I count my former husband but he's English and from the carry-on-come-what may generation. I can't count him and besides that, I relate more to the carry-on while complaining generation.  

Preparing for sleep includes several more steps that it did when I was a sprightly young thing.  I need to set up the coffee maker and make sure there is both water and ground coffee in the appliance. Hot water in the morning just doesn't have the same nearly gonzo effect as coffee. And if I forget to add the water the smell of hot metal on glass isn't delightful. 

All the things I might need in the night have to sit on top of the dresser by my bed. Did I mention drugs? Well, aspirin and acetaminophen have a home there. My cell phone goes up there too just in case, along with water in a sippy cup I try not to knock over. Most importantly, whatever book or magazine I'm reading must be handy and my heating pad needs to warm up the spot where my always-cold feet go. Yes, even if it is ninety degrees Fahrenheit, my nest must be warm. I read until my eyes begin to close. At that point I get up and visit the bathroom once more; then I return to bed and turn the bedside light out.

Naturally, I begin to worry about the state of the world and whether I turned the computer off and what I need to do the next day. After all what is the dark for, except thinking of what one puts off thinking about during the day. Never mind though,  the morning will arrive soon enough. Sometimes it arrives at three a.m. 

Normally, I wake between six and seven a.m.,  partly because I have to pee and partly because various parts of my body have decided to complain. I  sit on the side of the bed and slowly retrieve my slippers and put them on. Yes,  even if it is ninety degrees Fahrenheit, I need them.. The kitchen floor is non-slip but can be cold. I take no chances. I turn on the coffee machine and proceed to the living room to open the curtains and turn on the computer. 

 I fetch my mug of coffee and begin my day by checking my email. Then I check the news sites, my local TV station news, the CBC news and then the Guardian news. after that, I look on Facebook to see if any of my friends have posted there.  I now know that the world continues to be in an unholy mess. It's therefore time for me to do The Guardian crossword and the Globe and Mail crossword. That reassures me that some parts of me, and the world still function. I do some more internet browsing.

Suddenly, it's 10:30 a.m. and I'm still in my pyjamas. If I'm going to get anything done, I need to shower and dress. Showering means having my walker on hand and being extremely careful entering and exiting the tub. Unfortunately my bones are older than the rest of me. They aged without my permission, and I am not best pleased.  My skin didn't ask my permission to get as dry as the Sahara dessert either. So, my next task involves slathering it with a vitamin E cream. I have no idea if it is helping but it does increase the amount of laundry I have. Once I'm dressed I check my email accounts again and respond to any that need answers, then it's time for lunch.

After that, it's prime time for me - between one p.m. and four p.m. I might be at my peak performance time. I could work on my current project, or I could do some cleaning, or I could contact friends, or I could continue reading.  But, oh the couch looks alluring and it may be time for a nap before supper. Not every day needs a matinee performance.

Til the next adventure.

 Aging Gratefully During a Pandemic

 

I do not age gracefully. Even as a youngster I wasn’t physically graceful. I am; however, grateful for some of my circumstances during the COVID 19 pandemic.  I live alone so I’m accustomed to enjoying my own company, although sometimes do I get on my own nerves. When I was tired after my third COVID 19 vaccination, I went to bed without setting up my coffee maker. The next morning, after I managed to make coffee while in my pre-caffeinated state, I decided to be thankful that the machine is only moderately difficult to fill and only a few grains of coffee landed on the kitchen floor.

            Eating is one of my favourite occupations. I miss dining in restaurants with friends, even though we didn’t meet very often. I’ve become best buddies with my refrigerator and its small freezer compartment. Sometimes, I just open the door to see if by some miracle there’s anything new inside. At last, I understand why my grandsons would open the family’s fridge door and stand gazing at its contents. I’m truly grateful form my fridge and for enough money to fill it.

I’m thankful also for refrigerated grocery delivery trucks.  These days, I order my food stuffs online and have them delivered. Of course, that requires making a list ahead of time. It also requires knowing where I put the list, or failing that, starting a second list.  I can get some non-grocery items from the same source and that helps too, if I remember what I need.

Going out to a real store is a major adventure and I don’t do it often. In fact, by the time all this is over, entire neighbourhoods may have changed before I see them again. And, I have no idea what has happened at the local shopping malls. I haven’t been to one in two years. There may be new stores, or fewer stores, or zombies might be roaming the corridors. I’d be grateful not to see them.

Staying inside so much has led me to modified voyeurism. From my windows, I see the corner where the school bus stops to pick up local children. I notice how many of them are waiting in the morning. One day, the youngest one with the pink boots is missing. I wonder if the child is okay. When she appears the next day, I’m happy to see her grubbing in the snow bank.

Because I am inside so much, I’m often online, probably too often. On the one hand, I’ve learned more about many frivolous things.  For example, I now know what women wore under their dresses in the Victorian era. On the other hand, I’ve learned a bit more about Canadian and world history. That’s a bonus, I think.

When I’m free to wander places at will, I’m not sure how far I’ll go. Due to the pandemic, I’ve come to truly appreciate my home as my haven and I’m grateful to be in it.  I hope all your homes are safe places.

The Making of Waves - Stories from the Magic Filing Cabinet.

Many writers save all the versions of their work and the feedback on it that they receive from various sources such as critique groups, writers in residence, friends, and sometimes beta readers. I store printed copies of some  work in a small filing cabinet next to my desktop computer. In there, it's out of sight but perhaps not out of my mind. 

When the pandemic continued and we headed toward the second year of staying put, life  slowed down for me. I still miss my Viking and my involvement with the Rockway Entertainers chorus but  there was time to do more than to write the occasional haiku and On-The-Buses note for my Facebook page.  If I could find the energy, the objectivity and the stamina I might be able to put some of my short stories together as a collection. I chose eleven from my filing cabinet stash.

 I hadn't reread the stories in a long time. I had always found it difficult to accept criticism of my writing, especially when it was blunt. However, when I began to rewrite them, I was less hampered by previous impressions and critiques, and more able to refine them.  Two dear friends, Lori Hahnel and Dee Miller helped me with editing and proofreading.

I chose to self-publish the stories partly because of the time factor. Small presses can take eons to decide on whether to publish a writer's work. They have a hard time surviving in these Amazon dominant days. 

After some research I chose  www.volumesdirect.com the publishing division of M & T Printing, a local company. You can find Waves in the fiction section.

 

                                                     Blog Revival Time

It's been an age since I posted here. Of course lots has happened to all of us. The only writing I did was posting comments, On the Bus pieces, musings and haikus on Facebook. However, this autumn, the short stories that lived in my filing cabinet finally shouted loud enough that I had to take them out, and rework them.

Thanks to the help of friends they will be ready to publish early in the new year. I will write more about the collection when the launch is closer. In the meantime, I hope everyone stays safe and well. 

I'm Not a Pillar or a Cornerstone. Maybe I'm a Small Brick

When my dear partner died, I vowed not to rush into anything new until I felt ready. Lately, I've been considering what my future options might be now that I am alone, again. It's not that I lack choices. I have many, perhaps too many. There are writing projects waiting. My apartment could use some redecorating. The sheet music files our choir uses need my attention. There are a lot of 'volunteer opportunities' available for someone like me - an older woman who is not currently a care-giver, is spouse-less, and has no dependent relatives. I am a VIP (visitor in the parish) for members of the church I attend, but I hesitate to add more 'opportunities'.

I suspect I'm not designed to be a pillar of the church, or a pillar or cornerstone in the community. I know and respect the people who are. I don't know what they are made of, but it is something above and beyond my mortal capacity. A lot of pillars are women. Women who care for dying family members at home never get mentioned; but they are family cornerstones. Women who make 300 pies and sandwiches routinely for church or community events and who turn out week after week to do the work that keeps churches and charities running are pillars. Women who chair committees in their spare time between caring for aging parents, and ferrying teens and adult children without cars to appointments are cornerstones.

The girls of my generation, the baby-buster generation born slightly before and during World War II, had as role models the young women and mothers  who cared for family and community. They worked, if they needed to, or wanted to; and, if they were married, if their husbands agreed to it. In addition, they volunteered for many of the duties that keep society working as a matter of course. Also, because there was no other option, they looked after aged family members who needed care at home.  A number of these role models are still around, or have left us very recently.  Were they made of stronger material? Probably not. They did what they were sure they had to do. However;  it worries me when a pillar falls ill, or dies.

A slightly older woman friend, who is also a member of the baby-buster generation and who is very active in her church and community spoke to me recently about her desire to slow down and guilt she feels about that possibility. Who will do it, if I don't? That's the unasked question.  I don't have a glib answer.

Younger women today have a lot to do, and there are a zillion expectations placed on them. Have a fulfilling career!  Have a perfect family! Have a perfect life! Don't forget to look fabulous, always! No wonder being a pillar doesn't fit in. But,  maybe just doing one thing, adding one small brick and doing it consistently will be all that can be offered to the community and/or the church.  Maybe if enough of us do that one thing, and continue to do it the small bricks will keep the building standing.

One August Afternoon in Kitchener - A Photo Essay

There is beauty in my neighbourhood in every season. These photos were all taken on August 5th, 2015, in the Civic Centre area of Kitchener, Ontario.

The Church of the Good Shepherd (Swedenborgian) is known locally for marrying many folk who
might not have the opportunity to wed in other churches.  This building was finished in 1935. The first Swedenborgian church in Kitchener, then known as Berlin, was built in 1833.
 

 

The Kitchener Fire Fighters' Memorial in Civic Centre Park. The internationally known sculptor is Timothy Schmaltz (www.TimSchmaltz.com).
 

 

The Waterloo County Gaol  Garden is small but delightful and has a fountain. The stone walls are remnants of the original jail which was built in 1852.
 

 

Tall natural grasses in front of  the Region of Waterloo headquarters are part of the Naturescape Demonstarion Garden.

 

A flowered path along the side of St. Andrew's Presbyterian church leads to the contemplative space in the next photo
 

 

 

 

Tree-lined streets graceful homes,and shaded gardens.

 

 

 

 

The Hibner Park fountain is also a compass. It was built in 1939 and replaced an earlier fountain which had occupied the same site circa 1897.

 

Dogs, rabbits, a fox or two, and local people all enjoy this small semi-wild patch of land in the heart of the Civic Centre neighbourhood.

 

These photos help to explain my fondness for my adopted city. I've lived here for eleven years and hope to enjoy my surroundings for many more years.

 

Thoughts About Canadian Veterans - Why I'm Bothered

Be forewarned; this is a rant.

I haven't posted here in a long time. During my blogging break, my friend, The Bear, died. There was a fair bit to do after that, including sorting through more of his personal papers. He had been just a little too young to enlist in World War II, but his older brothers had both served in the Canadian forces. One was killed overseas and one returned. The Bear said his mother's grief for the lost one never abated. I was thinking about them again this morning, and about all our  Canadian Veterans*, especially after hearing the latest federal budget news.

Before I talk about my budget concerns, I'd like to say: I wish our military could only be used for peace-keeping. In an ideal world, we wouldn't need to have a military; but that is not the world we live in. Like many Canadians, I have military connections. My grandfather was a World War I Veteran, my former husband is a World War II Veteran. For many years, I  worked with  Veterans at Sunnybrook Medical Sciences Centre and later, I worked for them in various social service capacities.

I care.

When I see Veterans being patronized by the Minister of Veterans' Affairs Canada - I see red, and it's not the red of the maple leaf. And I turn red - with shame. We have enough money to keep all the Veterans' Affairs offices open - in fact, we have enough money to add more offices. It could be done, but it won't be done while the Harpercons are in office. Of course online services should be increased, but they are not accessible to all Veterans. Of course there should be more trained professionals to work with the men and women who suffer from severe physical and mental stress due to previous combat or peace-keeping traumas.  But, that is not enough support. A lump-sum payment based on what Veterans refer to as the "meat chart" for body part injuries is also not enough support. The long-term costs of caring are not always predictable. What happens when the lump sum is used up? Go ahead and guess. We have homeless Veterans. We have Veterans who commit suicide. We have dead Veterans whose families do not have enough money to bury them. The federal government has added some money to the Last Post fund to help the families of indigent dead Veterans (a needs test must be passed).  Gee, I'm proud. But - what about the living Veterans?

Don't the men and women who served in the Canadian Armed Forces deserve better services and lasting first-quality care? The only ethical answer to that question is - yes.

* I have capitalized Veterans throughout this piece as a mark of respect. 

My Windsor Visit: Going Back in order to Go Ahead

I went to Windsor on Via rail on February 4th and returned on the 12th. It might not sound like the best time for a visit, but it was. The train cooperated and even the weather cooperated. My decision to go was partly based on the half-price train fare and a reasonably priced hotel room, but mostly it was a need that's been nagging me for quite some time.

When I walked down the main drag of my home town, I discovered that Lazare's furs has closed and Shanfields Meyers, home of every china pattern and tschotske known to mankind, is in the process of closing. Several bars and restaurants have died and left untidy remnants. Cheque cashing stores with tacky neon signs have proliferated. But, I know that Windsor has dealt with boom and bust cycles for decades. Although my first view was distressing, I soon discovered a lot of hopeful signals and hopeful people during my short stay.

I frequently asked people how the city was doing and everyone I spoke to had a positive attitude.  Some were only slightly positive but still, feeling like that in February must mean something good.

I visited the Art Gallery twice, once to see the exhibitions and once to attend three presentations about migrants. It's a lovely space  and has areas where you can sit and look out over the river when you need a break from taking in the art. And, right behind the gallery a new aquatic centre is being built. 

The waterfront is a place to walk, even in the winter, if the weather is good. There are no condos or hotels on the water side of Riverside Drive. There is a long uninterrupted stretch of parkland. I could hear the chimes of the carillon on Belle Island.

The casino and its hotel are highly visible from all parts of the downtown and I was in and out of the place about four times. It was not as busy as I had expected it to be even on the day when Tony Bennett would perform in the evening.  There are legal casinos in Michigan now and that change has caused more Americans to gamble, and probably gambol at home. Detroit's population has also dropped to about 750,000. I didn't make any bets or play any of the machines. That doesn't appeal to me but what people look like and do when they are betting interests me. Some folk assume some seriously weird position.

My dining experiences were quite varied. During my visit I was able to have lunch with my sister-in-law at Rino's Kitchen. It was good and not too expensive. I also tried the cafe at the casino and wouldn't recommend it. The Keg was much better and was part of the treat-myself deal. MacDonald's was next to the hotel. The Tunnel BBQ is still near the tunnel exit and the interior is exactly as it was.  They really should fix the floor behind the cake counter.

I had to visit the main library and it is quite near the hotel. When I walked in I could see a strange machine in separate area at the front of the building. At first I thought the library had rented the space to a business but that was not the case.  The Windsor Public Library has an Espresso book machine. Yes! The machine that prints and binds paperback books.  No one is allowed to jump up and down and shout hooray in the library but I almost did. 

My grandfather's letters (from The Great War) have been whispering to me from inside my piano bench. I explained  my idea to the library staff in charge of the machine and she said it is exactly the kind of book they hope the machine will be used for.  So now I have a non-fiction project. Maybe that also explains why my fiction brain has refused to cooperate no matter how I have tried.  I need to do this first, and then see what happens.

Until the next time.

The Roast Beast and Quilts - Christmas Memories

Once upon a time but not that long ago, when my daughter was a child we enjoyed Christmas Day dinners with my mother. The table would be set with her rose-patterned Royal Albert bone china, cornflower crystal glasses and Rogers Brothers silverware. The meal was almost always roast 'beast' (eye of round) with mashed potatoes, mom's famous gravy, another vegetable or two or three, a salad that was mostly iceberg lettuce and strawberries with heavy cream to finish the feast. Of course cookies and chocolates and nuts were consumed, before and after the main event. We ate dinner sometime between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. and then the gifts were opened. 

Because my mom's Christmas tree was small, artificial, and sat atop her cedar chest, she usually stashed any presents that wouldn't fit under the tree on the floor in a white laundry basket. Each year, there would be a quilt for me, one for my brother, and in later years, quilts for my daughter too. I miss my mother, always, but her quilts still comfort me. They represent the spirit of the holidays -  loving care.

Our holiday traditions have changed over the years, but we still enjoy the simple pleasures of sharing food, time together small gifts and loving care for one another.

May your holidays be joyful and your new year be happy and healthful.

What Is Around The Corner?

We are born with the urge  to learn, to explore, and to wonder. What is around the corner, what is under the bed, what is next in our lives? And -  if we are readers - what's next in the book?

Often I want more when I hear a  snippet of conversation; but, I never hear the outcome unless I make up my own version.  What other people may see and how they might interpret what they see is also a fascination.  Yesterday, I received a  payment from a writer I'm working with. She had given me a cheque and later decided she would make two payments at once, so she brought cash. I met her in my building's lobby. She gave me an envelope and I gave her the folded cheque.  If anyone was watching us (there's a lobby camera) our actions would be open to various interpretations.  We looked innocent but not all drug dealers look dangerous.

As for books, some are page turners but the ones I enjoy the most  pull me forward because I want to know more about the characters and not just their actions, but their thoughts.  When I read a certain type of mystery, I can skim through the gory parts looking for clues. When I read an Alice Munro story, I savour every word. When I read Anne Lamott, I cry then I laugh, sometimes over the course of three pages. It's her utter honesty that is so magnificent.

What's next in my life?  Surgery in a few days.  Afterward I'll be sticking close to home for a while. Maybe conversation will lead to a story.

What is around the corner for you?

Summer is Waving a Hot Goodbye

The Canadian National Exhibition opened last week. That's always a signal that summer is on her way out of town and out of country too. But before she goes, we'll get another blast of hot and sultry.

While that's happening, my family  is enjoying the Great Canadian Outdoors, eastern style. Frank, my eldest grandson, is camping on the lake near Port Burwell and Sam, my younger grandson, is on a five day river raft expedition down the Dumaine River in Quebec.   My daughter and I  enjoyed a campfire in  her back yard on Wednesday evening. I won't name the location in case the fire pit bylaw enforcers, whoever they are, find out about this nefarious activity.

Also, the Viking and I were able to escape from the city on the weekend. It was a perfect day for driving through the countryside.  On our return journey, we stopped in Stratford and strolled down the main street stepping into several shops along the way. I had to go into the bookstore of course. How could anyone not go into a book store called The Book Vault?  I was delighted when I found three books I couldn't resist. The Story of Yiddish by Neal Karlen, The Highly Selective dictionary for the Extraordinarily Literate, by Eugene Ehrlich, 

           [pssst I don't claim to be extraordinarily literate - perhaps the dictionary will help.]

and Colombo's All-Time Great Canadian Quotations, by John Robert Columbo.    All those books for $15.72, harmonized sales tax included. Obviously they did not sell at their original prices.

I had not read any poetry in quite a while but then on a brief visit to the library, Impact: the Titanic poems, by Billeh Nickerson jumped into my hand.  Powerful, moving, and yet spare, his poems capture the people, the ship, and  the sinking.  I had to read slowly with many breaks between the poems in order to appreciate all of them. 

At the moment, I have a paying assignment and it is a challenge.  There are certain hazards to proofreading and editing erotica.  You can guess what they may be.

Until the  next time.

Mysterious Stuff, or Why Does Anyone Believe These Things?

There are days, many days,  when I can't understand Americans. There are also days when I can't understand my fellow Canadians.
Because Super Tuesday is very close, let me first talk about the American mysteries.  To date, there are  only four GOP candidates for the presidency of the U.S.A. who may have a shot at winning.  Why would a person with any sense of how the real world operates want to vote for any of them? 

If any one of the four is chosen to run or, worse yet, if any one of them actually becomes the president, the average American will suffer.  Corporations will gain even more power than the overwhelming amount they have now. The rich will inevitably grow fatter and the poor, well they can just shuffle off into further obscurity and eventually the type of poverty the third world knows well.  The poor and uninsured needn't look for  pregnancy contraception, or for choice afterward and that is only the beginning. They have been told over and over again that all government roles are bad and  low, low, lower, lowest taxes and smaller government (hah!)  will benefit everyone. 

Why do they believe the lie that all taxes are evil? And, where do they think the money to support  services provided by the government will come from? 
Why are so many people persuaded that the government should get out of the business of providing any social programs? 

Americans are generous, but charities can't be expected to deal with every social problem. Will there be a return to the Victorian concept of work houses?
Why do Americans, and Canadians too, believe that anyone can advise them on what the stock market will do? No one knows, let me repeat that, no one knows. Most trading is done by advanced computer programs. Numbers are god in that game.

The Canadian federal government is currently CRAP   (Conservative Reform Alliance Party).
And because they are c r a p, they are bringing in legislation that has already proved to be a) useless, or b) harmful, or c) both.  A couple of examples: super prisons, mandatory sentences. 

Why did even a minority of Canadians believe electing Harper would be a good idea?

Why do some Canadians believe that further belt tightening will somehow stimulate the economy and that we will all benefit from the trickle down effect of lower corporate taxes? 

That has been proven to be wicked nonsense.

Maybe we have fallen down the tunnel into wonderland.

Till next time.

My Liebster Blog Award

My blog was honoured with a Liebster blog award given by my friend, Susan Barclay.  There's a lovely little heart logo. However; incompetent as I am, I"m unable to transfer the pretty thing to the top of this page. After hours of effort, and various attempts to deal with the new Google E blogger format and to find out how to edit saved drafts, you can find the symbol at the bottom of this post   Anyway, this is award is for interesting blogs with  under 500 followers . Now that I've received it, I'm asked to nominate five other blogs including the blog of the person who named my blog.

So, here are some blogs that I find interesting. --

Susan Barclay's blog, Honey from the Hive is here :

http://www.notesfrominisfree.blogspot.com/

Jan Markley's blog is always worth reading and frequently her sense of humour shines through.  She writes youug adult fiction.  Her titles to date:  Dead Frog on the Porch, and Dead Bird Through The Cat Door. 

http://www.janmarkley.blogspot.com/

The Falcata Times blog features news, book  reviews, and interviews with writers of Sci-Fi Fantasy, Historical, YA, Horror, Crime and other genre fiction.

http://falcatatimes.blogspot.com/

Darcie Friesen Hossack, the author of Mennonites Don't Dance, also has blog about food, Nice Fat Gurdie is charming and informative.

http://nicefatgurdie.wordpress.com/


My dear friend, Lori Hahnel, the author of Love Minus Zero, a novel, and Nothing Sacred, a short story collection, blogs about her news and views here at Tales From Behind the Calgary Hotel.


http://lorihahnel.blogspot.com/






Until next time, or whenever I sort out how to deal with this new format.  Cheers!

Harper to Cut Social Programs. Is Austerity the Answer? Not Bloomin' Likely

Once again, seniors are being touted as the villains in the political story. If this was a murder mystery plot, I'd say it was way too trite. I have news for the Conservatives (and the Republicans). Older people are very unlikely to quietly agree to anything that diminishes government benefits. The ruling party would do well to remember that a larger proportion of seniors vote than any other segment of the population.


Are Canadian seniors doing well financially? Between the 1990's and the 2000's the rate of poverty among seniors rose according to the Conference Board of Canada and, it continues to rise. Older single women form the largest group of poor seniors. We should not find that acceptable. At the same time, many work places are eliminating defined benefit pension plans and opting for defined contribution plans, or in many cases no pension plan at all. Oh happiness for companies, but not for their employees.

I hear someone muttering, you need to save and put money in RRSP's. I reply, it's good to remember that not everyone makes a wage that provides them with enough money left over to save significant amounts and furthermore, one crisis; for example, being out of work for more than a few months can wipe out the savings of a low-wage earner in less than a trice.

So is the answer to work longer and retire later? That may be a part of the answer. However; it is not easy to find work if you lose your job when you are over 50, or even worse, between 60 and 65. If you do find work, it will likely pay less and be less reliable. We have not yet reached the point where there are way too many jobs and too few people to fill them (except for a few trades and occupations). That is one among many reasons for maintaining and enhancing the Guaranteed Income Supplement for low income seniors. By the way, low income seniors are consumers too. We buy things, not as many things as before but we do spend and that also puts money into the economy. That brings me to my next question.

What is the role of the federal government? If Mr. Harper has his way, the primary role always will be to support business the most. Damn the torpedoes (and the environmentalists too) and full speed ahead says Captain Queeg. Social programs and health care are drag on the economy and cost too much. We will cut costs by slashing in those areas first. Look, look, we have oil and gas, and water too. Don't worry we'll get rid of pesky regulations. And we'll cut costs. Forget Toys are Us - that was last year when we wanted planes and military toys. Our new slogan will be Austerity is Us. Plus, low low low corporate tax rates and lots of business loans.

If the austerity budget cuts are deep and sharp, is that the right thing to do now? I think that as the world works it's way into another major recession/depression, more austerity is not the answer. Governments that can spend, should spend major amounts on infrastructure . (Note that Mr. Harper has repeatedly said that we are in better shape than other first world countries) This would increase employment and boost the economy. When times improve, and they would, then governments can pay down debt.

A footnote of sorts. Once upon a time, actually, it wasn't all that long ago, many Canadians worried about Western Alienation. We kept hearing, The West wants in. Well, news flash, Eastern Alienation is rising and my Canada which does include Quebec, is not in favour of an American style government - for the rich, by the rich. The social contract is at the heart of Canadian identity. At least I think it is.

What do you think?