Monday, 19 August 2013
Lupin Hill Worry List
1. We don't seem to to be DOING enough about global warming. The birds and animals and insects, the sea levels, the thermometers, the weather are warning us that we must universally get our act together now and we aren't DOING such a great job.
2. We don't know enough about the long term effects of Genetically Modified food.
3. There is such a disparity in the hope for the futures of babies being born into this world.
4. Apathy is destroying democracy.
5. Power is too concentrated.
6. The Maritimes is producing good people who economically are being forced to work elsewhere. Those choosing to remain behind suffer economically and are often mislabelled as unwilling to work. This is economic cleansing.
7. Too many fishermen are losing their lives trying to make a living.
8. Thistles are taking over the hill.
9. Little kids from the wrong families are discriminated against at school.
10. Too many big kids are losing their lives on the roads.
11. The bees are dieing.
12. The bats are dieing.
13. The oceans are dieing.
14. I can't understand how corporations are people.
15. So many elderly are being ignored and forgotten.
!6. My kitchen floor needs painting again.
17. Things are highly overrated.
18. For many it is so difficult to find the time to ....
19. Excellent health care is not universally available.
20. Equal access to justice does not exist.
21. My dog Moses is getting too fat.
22. Newspapers are disappearing.
23. There isn't enough joy going around.
24. There are still too many pot holes on Russia Road.
25. Too much hope is being replaced by bitterness.
26. We don't have enough respect for pure water as a necessity.
27. Some people's rights are more valuable than others.
28. Native people need action not words.
29. Few realize that our wilderness is as valuable as our cities.
30. The jails are too full.
31. Serious mental health issues are not being addressed.
32. Farmers are under appreciated.
33. What is going on with all these drugs?
34. The many understandings that swirl around the concept "enough"are unacknowledged.
Thanks for letting me get this off my ample chest.
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
So Goes Time, So Goes Life
Last week I learned the house I left in central Toronto, twenty years ago, is being demolished. This isn't just any house. This house was built for my great grandfather and was the home where my daughters grew, a solid, large house that reflected the time in which it was built.
The house had always remained in the family, welcoming every generation, my mother and her sister as children, my cousins in their later childhood and teenage years, my grandmother, aunts, uncles and all their pets through time. The house was loved and had many friends.
We celebrated the house with a big backyard party, fireworks and all, the week before I left for this loved place by the sea.
It is funny but the concept of it being no more has a rightness. Everything inevitably comes to an end. It is difficult to see the essence of the old houses in the neighbourhood being renovated into oblivion.
However it was difficult reading
Demolition/Content Sale - Midtown (Yonge and Lawrence)
83 Glengrove Ave W
Hosted this Saturday July 20th 10am-3pm.
Bring Your Own Tools.
The house is now gone. The memories good and bad live on with us. The neighbourhood now houses more and more of the shakers and movers of the city. Their lifestyles require much more of a house than my great grandfather could ever imagined.
I cry for the gardens. There is a picture of my aunt as a child in about 1918 standing under an impressive maple tree. When my children were small they could put their ears against the thick bark to hear the fairy elevators going up and down inside.
It was under this tree I made a wild flower garden. The trilliums came from the farm where my other grandmother grew up, the periwinkle from my Aunt Lilah who loved all things living, the ferns and a lady slipper from the cottage, several umbrella plants from the sides of rural roads and of course some of my mother's infamous Niagara red wiggling worms. I hope they and theirs survive.
The other garden that was important to me was between the old, perfect pink, climbing roses, that through time had made it past the second floor. It was here I planted special flowers to honour special people and special occasions. It was so difficult to say good bye to this garden. I don't think there is a chance, the plants will survive the mighty machines that are now preparing this tiny drop of the ever expanding city for newness. I do hope someone thought to take a shovel to rescue one or two of them.
So goes time. So goes life.
I think it is now time to go out to work in the garden, I dreamed into existence on long winter nights. My mother gave me money, for my fiftieth birthday, to make the dream a reality. This garden brings enough joy.
The house had always remained in the family, welcoming every generation, my mother and her sister as children, my cousins in their later childhood and teenage years, my grandmother, aunts, uncles and all their pets through time. The house was loved and had many friends.
We celebrated the house with a big backyard party, fireworks and all, the week before I left for this loved place by the sea.
It is funny but the concept of it being no more has a rightness. Everything inevitably comes to an end. It is difficult to see the essence of the old houses in the neighbourhood being renovated into oblivion.
However it was difficult reading
Demolition/Content Sale - Midtown (Yonge and Lawrence)
83 Glengrove Ave W
Hosted this Saturday July 20th 10am-3pm.
Bring Your Own Tools.
The house is now gone. The memories good and bad live on with us. The neighbourhood now houses more and more of the shakers and movers of the city. Their lifestyles require much more of a house than my great grandfather could ever imagined.
I cry for the gardens. There is a picture of my aunt as a child in about 1918 standing under an impressive maple tree. When my children were small they could put their ears against the thick bark to hear the fairy elevators going up and down inside.
It was under this tree I made a wild flower garden. The trilliums came from the farm where my other grandmother grew up, the periwinkle from my Aunt Lilah who loved all things living, the ferns and a lady slipper from the cottage, several umbrella plants from the sides of rural roads and of course some of my mother's infamous Niagara red wiggling worms. I hope they and theirs survive.
The other garden that was important to me was between the old, perfect pink, climbing roses, that through time had made it past the second floor. It was here I planted special flowers to honour special people and special occasions. It was so difficult to say good bye to this garden. I don't think there is a chance, the plants will survive the mighty machines that are now preparing this tiny drop of the ever expanding city for newness. I do hope someone thought to take a shovel to rescue one or two of them.
So goes time. So goes life.
I think it is now time to go out to work in the garden, I dreamed into existence on long winter nights. My mother gave me money, for my fiftieth birthday, to make the dream a reality. This garden brings enough joy.
Thursday, 25 July 2013
Hot Dogs and Black Olives
My house is now oddly quiet. My grandchildren are once again living their urban lives. We had so much fun together. The transformation of city mice to country mice was almost complete, if only temporarily. The little girls ran out the doors into the space of forever. It makes me so happy to think they are old enough to remember their visits to grandma's house by the sea and take those memories with them.
Happy summer memories warm hearts through long cold days of lifetimes.
My cousins and I thrived in the liberty of childhood summers at the cottage. Those days are gone and the cottages are gone, but the happiness of those summers is with us always.
I said the city mice almost became country mice.
We took part in a special Day that happens annually, the Shoreline Yard Sale. Yard sales take place along miles of rural roads and in the tiny communities that dot a significant stretch by the the Bay of Fundy. Treasures await the eager, excited participants, but for many the food is the draw.
It all begins at breakfast at the Morden Hall. Men fill the community kitchen. They jovially fill the plates of a long line of a hungry bunch who hold out their plates to be filled; fresh fish cakes, homemade baked beans, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and fried ham. The jams and jellies and relishes from the local kitchens wait on the tables. A jar by the door fills with free will offerings.
With full tummies we set out by car in our quest for the best. On this occasion the best seemed to be porcelain collector dolls. It is amazing how much two little girls can buy with their baggies of change that they clutch tightly in their hands.
Before long we find ourselves at the Burlington Hall. Men are setting up for the horse pulls that are about to be held this day, because they were cancelled due to rain on Canada Day. Women are slicing the homemade pies.
My red headed five year old granddaughter decides she wants a hot dog. She goes to the booth to place her order. The hot dog arrives and she chooses ketchup and relish as her condiments. The friendly woman behind the counter asks if there is anything else she needs. She innocently asks for black olives. Her cover is blown. Are you a little girl from a city the lady asks. Those around chuckle. Black olives are not a mountain staple.
We're off to Harbourville Hall for fresh lobster rolls for those who still have room for more and then on to Black Rock Hall where the Jolly Workers are offering strawberry shortcakes with real whipped cream.
The trail continues but we are done, more than pleasantly full and a little bit weary. With little regret, we head home to display the many purchases, as I sit with a fine cup of tea, admiring.
Happy summer memories warm hearts through long cold days of lifetimes.
My cousins and I thrived in the liberty of childhood summers at the cottage. Those days are gone and the cottages are gone, but the happiness of those summers is with us always.
I said the city mice almost became country mice.
We took part in a special Day that happens annually, the Shoreline Yard Sale. Yard sales take place along miles of rural roads and in the tiny communities that dot a significant stretch by the the Bay of Fundy. Treasures await the eager, excited participants, but for many the food is the draw.
It all begins at breakfast at the Morden Hall. Men fill the community kitchen. They jovially fill the plates of a long line of a hungry bunch who hold out their plates to be filled; fresh fish cakes, homemade baked beans, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and fried ham. The jams and jellies and relishes from the local kitchens wait on the tables. A jar by the door fills with free will offerings.
With full tummies we set out by car in our quest for the best. On this occasion the best seemed to be porcelain collector dolls. It is amazing how much two little girls can buy with their baggies of change that they clutch tightly in their hands.
Before long we find ourselves at the Burlington Hall. Men are setting up for the horse pulls that are about to be held this day, because they were cancelled due to rain on Canada Day. Women are slicing the homemade pies.
My red headed five year old granddaughter decides she wants a hot dog. She goes to the booth to place her order. The hot dog arrives and she chooses ketchup and relish as her condiments. The friendly woman behind the counter asks if there is anything else she needs. She innocently asks for black olives. Her cover is blown. Are you a little girl from a city the lady asks. Those around chuckle. Black olives are not a mountain staple.
We're off to Harbourville Hall for fresh lobster rolls for those who still have room for more and then on to Black Rock Hall where the Jolly Workers are offering strawberry shortcakes with real whipped cream.
The trail continues but we are done, more than pleasantly full and a little bit weary. With little regret, we head home to display the many purchases, as I sit with a fine cup of tea, admiring.
Wednesday, 17 July 2013
Ingredients for a Successful Visit to Grandmas
INGREDIENTS FOR A SUCCESSFUL VISIT TO GRANDMAS
1. an aunt and uncle full of fun.
a red headed toddler full of mischief
a faraway aunt who is up for adventures,
specilizing in Frenchies.
and her two little ladies with endless energy
grandma's cousin who can't quite believe all that is going on around him
grandma's cousin who can't quite believe all that is going on around him
friends and neighbours, big and small who love
to play
2. a tiny white fluffy active puppy and a great big aging beauty
3. a big pink front porch with two hammocks and a wicker rocking chair
4. a sunny deck with a gate that closes
5. an ocean
6. a bundle buggy to roll around the youngest cousin when he is willing.
7. a fort in the bushes
8. a car to explore
9. a large inflateable pool.
10. an ancient round sprinkler
11. a box of bandaids
12. endless changes of clothes
13. mud flats
14. a long clothesline
15. beach fire and marshmallows
16. lobsters
17. enough libations but not too much
18. never ending snacking
19. a children's picnic at the hall -egg races, three legged races...
20. gross slug, amazing moth, smelly lobster shells
21. toys from other times
22. bubbles, water balloons, water guns.
23. somewhat controlled chaos
tbc
4. a sunny deck with a gate that closes
5. an ocean
6. a bundle buggy to roll around the youngest cousin when he is willing.
7. a fort in the bushes
8. a car to explore
9. a large inflateable pool.
10. an ancient round sprinkler
11. a box of bandaids
12. endless changes of clothes
13. mud flats
14. a long clothesline
15. beach fire and marshmallows
16. lobsters
17. enough libations but not too much
18. never ending snacking
19. a children's picnic at the hall -egg races, three legged races...
20. gross slug, amazing moth, smelly lobster shells
21. toys from other times
22. bubbles, water balloons, water guns.
23. somewhat controlled chaos
tbc
Sunday, 28 April 2013
The Joys of Spring Cleaning
Yes, there is joy in spring cleaning. I am presently taking a wee break from the joy, to record this fleeting insight.
Usually in "before" and "after" pictures of all sorts, I opt for the "before". In spring cleaning, I have an opportunity of fully appreciating the "after". Keep in mind, that for many, my "after" would be a nightmare of "before". Wood heat, big dog with big paws, muddy driveway, outside footwear inside lead, to put it bluntly, inside dirt.
It is not that I don't give the floors a quick brush or mop every so often, but thorough, frequent scrubbing does not seem to have secured a place on my life path. I strive to make the housekeeping category "almost ok".
I sometimes joke, in the muddiest times of the year, that I am considering going into Shurgain, to buy some seeds to plant on my kitchen floor. They say humour has roots in reality.
It is not just the the floors whose deeper cleanliness is hidden beneath a substantial patina of living. I really try to quickly dust when I begin to be tempted to leave messages in the furniture dust.
The frig is done. The kitchen chairs are washed.
Just this morning, I tried a cleaning tip, I saw this week on the computer- how to effectively clean your chandelier. Yes, I have a chandelier. It is not in the dining room, as I chose not to have a dining room, because I wanted to eat and entertain in my big friendly kitchen.
My chandelier is a wonder, I picked up at a garage sale, on my way to visit a daughter at university, years and years ago. Blue and pink and purple and crystal clusters of grapes with their delicate green glass leaves, hang from the piece. Candlelike low wattage bulbs glow in place. What a wonderful delight for my bedroom ceiling, as it accents the nature inspired life on the wallpaper.
The reality is to clean such an item is a big deal.
But not this time. This time I took my recently purchased hairdryer, with an extension cord, with me as stepped with aplomb up onto the bed. With the thing on high, I blasted the delicate cobwebs and the accompanying dust clots throughout the room. The results were miraculous. As I write the sunshine coming in the bedroom is having a whee of a time dancing light up onto the ceiling.
The plants that fill my bedroom window demanded immediate attention. Their delicate selves did not appreciate the leavings from the chandelier. Knowing the needs of living things have priority, they were soon whisked and spritzed. I went on to tackle the rest of the room, with rare abandon with the exception of the slatted clothes and of course the less than perfect floor. They await another burst to spurt from a happy homemaker.
I must go now as I promised myself I would finish scrubbing the living room floor before, I go out into the sunshine. A neighbour just called to tell me to come to visit, as her little next door neighbours' cat had just had five wee kittens on her soft kitchen chair.
I think I'll take a little fish as a gift to the new mum. The floor can wait.
Usually in "before" and "after" pictures of all sorts, I opt for the "before". In spring cleaning, I have an opportunity of fully appreciating the "after". Keep in mind, that for many, my "after" would be a nightmare of "before". Wood heat, big dog with big paws, muddy driveway, outside footwear inside lead, to put it bluntly, inside dirt.
It is not that I don't give the floors a quick brush or mop every so often, but thorough, frequent scrubbing does not seem to have secured a place on my life path. I strive to make the housekeeping category "almost ok".
I sometimes joke, in the muddiest times of the year, that I am considering going into Shurgain, to buy some seeds to plant on my kitchen floor. They say humour has roots in reality.
It is not just the the floors whose deeper cleanliness is hidden beneath a substantial patina of living. I really try to quickly dust when I begin to be tempted to leave messages in the furniture dust.
The frig is done. The kitchen chairs are washed.
Just this morning, I tried a cleaning tip, I saw this week on the computer- how to effectively clean your chandelier. Yes, I have a chandelier. It is not in the dining room, as I chose not to have a dining room, because I wanted to eat and entertain in my big friendly kitchen.
My chandelier is a wonder, I picked up at a garage sale, on my way to visit a daughter at university, years and years ago. Blue and pink and purple and crystal clusters of grapes with their delicate green glass leaves, hang from the piece. Candlelike low wattage bulbs glow in place. What a wonderful delight for my bedroom ceiling, as it accents the nature inspired life on the wallpaper.
The reality is to clean such an item is a big deal.
But not this time. This time I took my recently purchased hairdryer, with an extension cord, with me as stepped with aplomb up onto the bed. With the thing on high, I blasted the delicate cobwebs and the accompanying dust clots throughout the room. The results were miraculous. As I write the sunshine coming in the bedroom is having a whee of a time dancing light up onto the ceiling.
The plants that fill my bedroom window demanded immediate attention. Their delicate selves did not appreciate the leavings from the chandelier. Knowing the needs of living things have priority, they were soon whisked and spritzed. I went on to tackle the rest of the room, with rare abandon with the exception of the slatted clothes and of course the less than perfect floor. They await another burst to spurt from a happy homemaker.
I must go now as I promised myself I would finish scrubbing the living room floor before, I go out into the sunshine. A neighbour just called to tell me to come to visit, as her little next door neighbours' cat had just had five wee kittens on her soft kitchen chair.
I think I'll take a little fish as a gift to the new mum. The floor can wait.
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
I'm choosing the Microcosm
It is a beautiful, bright sunny day. I'm planning on concentrating on life around me. There is so much out there beyond my understanding.
1. The sage plant in my bedroom has beautiful, tiny blue flowers.
2. I actually pruned many bushes before they began to spread forth.
3. At a local Hall, I learned so much about leather back turtles from a local professor and
fishing people.
4. Spring plants- Coltsfoot, crocus, pussy willows, cilia - so far.
5. The little boys are running down to play on the shore.
6. A little boy fishes for trout in the brook.
7. The old dogs lie out in the sun.
8. The red lumps on the rhubarb plants are emerging.
9. The first spring peeper has made a call.
10. Gardening gloves replace mittens.
11. there are times when it is ok to let the fire go out.
12. Jackets replace snow wear.
13. Some people have had their snow tires changed.
14. I wake up to bird songs.
15.A local farmer is sugaring off.
16.Running shoes replace boots.
17. It is time to bring out the chairs on the front porch.
18. The wild leeks are making their appearance.
19. The hot dogs for shore suppers are in the frig.
20. The choir is preparing for Spring Concerts.
21. Relatives are making arrangements for summer visits.
22. Clotheslines are a flutter.
23.There is enough light for the children to play outside after supper.
24. The soccer teams are forming.
25. The last snow from the mighty drifts have almost disappeared.
26.Pens for chickens are being prepared.
27.Open seed catalogues rest on kitchen tables.
28. It is not all that long until lobster season.
29. The cottagers are returning.
30. People from town are checking out the bay.
31. I no longer have to wrap myself up in a comforter, to sit in the television room.
32.The crows are jovial.
33. The willows glow yellow.
34.the birches and maples glow pink.
35. I am thinking of finishing the painting in the kitchen.
35. Composts are once again a common topic of conversation.
36. The red wigglers are free n the garden.
37.The snow shovel is in the barn.
38.Outdoor rinks have disappeared and the NHL soldiers on.
39.The sun is setting farther and farther up the bay.
40.The Gaspereau are surging up some rivers.
41.The farmers are busy in the orchards.
42.The small and big rock falls continue.
tbc
1. The sage plant in my bedroom has beautiful, tiny blue flowers.
2. I actually pruned many bushes before they began to spread forth.
3. At a local Hall, I learned so much about leather back turtles from a local professor and
fishing people.
4. Spring plants- Coltsfoot, crocus, pussy willows, cilia - so far.
5. The little boys are running down to play on the shore.
6. A little boy fishes for trout in the brook.
7. The old dogs lie out in the sun.
8. The red lumps on the rhubarb plants are emerging.
9. The first spring peeper has made a call.
10. Gardening gloves replace mittens.
11. there are times when it is ok to let the fire go out.
12. Jackets replace snow wear.
13. Some people have had their snow tires changed.
14. I wake up to bird songs.
15.A local farmer is sugaring off.
16.Running shoes replace boots.
17. It is time to bring out the chairs on the front porch.
18. The wild leeks are making their appearance.
19. The hot dogs for shore suppers are in the frig.
20. The choir is preparing for Spring Concerts.
21. Relatives are making arrangements for summer visits.
22. Clotheslines are a flutter.
23.There is enough light for the children to play outside after supper.
24. The soccer teams are forming.
25. The last snow from the mighty drifts have almost disappeared.
26.Pens for chickens are being prepared.
27.Open seed catalogues rest on kitchen tables.
28. It is not all that long until lobster season.
29. The cottagers are returning.
30. People from town are checking out the bay.
31. I no longer have to wrap myself up in a comforter, to sit in the television room.
32.The crows are jovial.
33. The willows glow yellow.
34.the birches and maples glow pink.
35. I am thinking of finishing the painting in the kitchen.
35. Composts are once again a common topic of conversation.
36. The red wigglers are free n the garden.
37.The snow shovel is in the barn.
38.Outdoor rinks have disappeared and the NHL soldiers on.
39.The sun is setting farther and farther up the bay.
40.The Gaspereau are surging up some rivers.
41.The farmers are busy in the orchards.
42.The small and big rock falls continue.
tbc
Monday, 15 April 2013
discombobulate verb
Definition of discombobulate verb
[ with object] humorous, chiefly North American disconcert or confuse (someone):(as adjective discombobulated) he is looking a little pained and discombobulate.
I am discombobulated.
This weekend I heard the term "monetizing compassion" in a television political discussion. Apparently this is an emerging term.
What the hell!
I can't understand why low paid jobs are being sent offshore, while many here in the East Coast are desperately looking for work.
I can't understand why Canadian International Development has to be tied to our economic good as children continue to needlessly die of Aids in Africa.
I can't understand why the process of accepting refugees to our country is a less and less welcoming process.
I can't understand why we have difficulty recognizing the First Peoples' rights, because those rights are at odds with with our financial benefit.
I can't understand why we and our companies can irrevocably maim the good earth, without thought for those who will follow us.
I can't understand why it is necessary for more and more people to sleep on the street.
why so many desperate mothers do their food shopping at the Dollar Store.
why some families can't afford to wash their clothes.
why there can be such a chasm between those with so much and those
with little.
To be honest I'll never understand.
Monetizing compassion is an impossibility.
I am discombobulated. (not humourous)
Let's ALL pull together.
I am discombobulated.
This weekend I heard the term "monetizing compassion" in a television political discussion. Apparently this is an emerging term.
- Monetization is the process of converting or establishing something into legal tender. It usually refers to the coining of currency or the printing of banknotes by central banks. Things such as gold, diamonds and emeralds generally do have intrinsic value based on their rarity or quality and thus provide a premium not associated with fiat currency unless that currency is "promissory": That is the currency promises to deliver a given amount of a recognized commodity of a universally (globally) agreed to rarity and value, providing the currency with the foundation of legitimacy or value. Though rarely the case with paper currency, even intrinsically relatively worthless items or commodities can be made into money, so long as they are difficult to make or acquire. Monetization may also refer to exchanging securities for currency, selling a possession, charging for something that used to be free or making money on goods or services that were previously unprofitable.
- Compassion is the understanding or empathy for the suffering of others. It is regarded as a fundamental part of human love, and a cornerstone of greater social interconnection and humanism —foundational to the highest principles in philosophy, society, and personhood.
What the hell!
Where are we going?
I can't understand why low paid jobs are being sent offshore, while many here in the East Coast are desperately looking for work.
I can't understand why Canadian International Development has to be tied to our economic good as children continue to needlessly die of Aids in Africa.
I can't understand why the process of accepting refugees to our country is a less and less welcoming process.
I can't understand why we have difficulty recognizing the First Peoples' rights, because those rights are at odds with with our financial benefit.
I can't understand why we and our companies can irrevocably maim the good earth, without thought for those who will follow us.
I can't understand why it is necessary for more and more people to sleep on the street.
why so many desperate mothers do their food shopping at the Dollar Store.
why some families can't afford to wash their clothes.
why there can be such a chasm between those with so much and those
with little.
To be honest I'll never understand.
Monetizing compassion is an impossibility.
I am discombobulated. (not humourous)
Let's ALL pull together.
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