To Everything there is a season

Where to begin? It has been said that bad things happen in threes. If so, perhaps we are finished with death for a while. In September Pat's aunt died. Verna was the last remaining sister of Pat's mom, Rita.  Although very frail for a long time, she was sweet and had her sense of humour right to the end.

In late October we were shocked to learn that our brother- in- law, Gale, had died. He was only 67. Gale was the father of three and husband of Pat's sister Janice. Once again we were in Peterborough to attend his funeral and try to help our nieces, nephew and Pat's mom cope with this huge loss. Gale is mourned not only by our family but by his many patients.

As sad as these deaths have been, it is this third one that has hit us the hardest. Our world simply stopped and shifted dramatically three weeks ago, when Pat's brother, Matthew died unexpectedly while on holiday in California. Matt hated winter, so every year around this time, when the days are so short and dark he would get laid off from his job and head south. He would usually stop in California to visit his cousins before going to Guatemala for a few months. In March or April he'd make his way home, resume work and take up residence again at his cabin in Douro, outside Peterborough. His home was known by many names, most often Windswept Meadows or Shaughnessy Research Labs.

Matt arrived at his cousin Peggy's about noon on November 26th, just before American Thanksgiving.  Once there he soon collapsed and although family and paramedics worked on him, they were unable to save him. It was hypertensive cardiovascular disease. Matt was only sixty but had high blood pressure, high cholesteral and diabetes.

We are comforted by the fact that Matt died with Peggy and her family, in their home, where he was very much loved. Being able to speak with them, as we dealt with his out of country death, has made the whole process more bearable. We will always be grateful to them for the loving care they gave Matt.

Matt was quite a guy; a unique character. Over these past three weeks there have been countless tributes written on Facebook and many heartwarming stories told at his funeral. He has been described as rambunctious, larger than life, a man of many amusing titles. Peterborough Examiner writer Ed Arnold wrote this special tribute.

In the days ahead I will share more about this whole experience. It is like we were in a time bubble for  two weeks and then gradually emerged back into the real world.  I have nothing earth shattering to add to the literature on the subject of life and death. For now I will simply suggest the usual: that we all cherish life, make the most of our days, create good memories and nourish our relationships.

Words of Wisdom from Q

Perhaps I should re-title my blog the CBC fan club? For today I'd like to post a letter which I sent to the radio program Q. I thought it was a particularly good radio day. Too bad I was not near a radio when Jian interviewed Joe Clark. I'll have to listen to that. In my ideal life I will have all kinds of time to sit around and listen to all the great radio I have missed. I suppose I should break down and get an ipod or some such device. Can my small brain learn to operate yet one more electronic gadget?

Anyhow, the letter:

Although I am a huge CBC fan, I must confess that there are some days I think that maybe I’m a bit old  to be listening to some of the items on the radio. After all, many of the musical guests I’ve never even heard of. Yesterday, (Wed. Nov. 20) when I knew I had a big baking/cooking morning ahead of me, I hoped that there were some guests I would really enjoy. I was not disappointed. As is often the case with CBC, even when I am not familiar with the guest, I really enjoy the interview.

Such was the case with Alison Moyet, a U.K. singer. Sorry to say but I had never heard of her. At first I was only half listening but then I became engaged as she spoke of her battles with the music industry and I realized that I was listening to a person of real integrity. As a feminist, who is constantly disappointed with the appearance of young female singers and their young fans, I often feel ancient…like I am not with the program. I felt better yesterday when Moyet too, expressed her concerns when she sees young female singers “more and more undressed.”  “I despair for them.” she said. Moyet hates the examples they set for her daughters.

But it was at the conclusion of the interview, when Moyet was discussing the meaning of her new work, The Minutes, that I really felt like I was listening to a very wise person. She spoke of happiness, our eternal quest. “These glorious times, they only happen in minutes that are suspended in pedestrian years.” She spoke of being in “a great place, middle age, when you are happier to follow your own moral compass.” Although she is a very successful artist, she acknowledged that, ”We are all struggling to find our way.” She is satisfied and feels that “it really is alright that our joy only happens in minutes and we should be grateful for them.” I found those statements to be profound.

Her interview was followed by Torquil Campbell’s rant. Again I was moved by what I heard. He started by declaring this to be a sad time in our country, leaving us all feeling cynical and exhausted. He urged us all to turn away from the cult of celebrity. He advised us to get to know our neighbours, to re acquaint with old friends, to look for our heroes in those around us rather than those in the media. Again, what words of wisdom!

His advice seems to echo The National’s nightly segment, Only in Canada. Kudos to whoever thought that item up. Not only is it interesting to learn of the accomplishments of these Canadians; it’s a chance to celebrate the gifts of people that we usually never hear about. It’s a positive way to end our days.

As usual, thanks CBC. You’re the best!

Toronto's Bully

On the one hand, there is little left to be written about Rob Ford. Hasn't it already been said? On the other hand, I think that he will be written about for years. He is the perfect example for anyone writing about addiction, mental health, bullying, abuse, city governance...just to name a few issues.

I humbly offer a few observations:

Hopefully this whole sorry episode is a wake up call for municipalities across the country to put in place legislation that would provide a mechanism to easily remove a mayor or other elected officials in these circumstances. As Conservative cabinet minister Jason Kenny stated today,"Ford has brought dishonour to elected office." Shouldn't there be a basic code of conduct that elected officials have to follow? Even high schools have codes of conduct these days. If a thirteen year old has to follow certain rules, why not the mayor of Canada's biggest city?

Speaking of thirteen year olds, it is just plain sad that we are all being subjected to such incredibly rude behaviour, especially our youth. This is truly a terrible way to learn the way of grown ups. It was heartening to see the brief interviews done on CBC's the National last week with a few teens. The young kids there, all seemed to recognize that Ford is being totally inappropriate.

However, that was only a very small number of kids. What about Ford's loyal fans? What about the thousands of people across the Greater Toronto Area  ("Ford Nation") who still believe he should be mayor? I was astounded that so many people voted for him in the last election but now I find it downright scary that so many people still think this rude, offensive bully has any place in public life. What do the children and teens in those homes believe?

This morning on CBC radio's Q, Jian Gomeshi interviewed Mariel Hemingway. At one point, when describing her life as a teenager, she stated that she routinely cleaned up her family's dining room after her parents' violent, drunken dinners. She thought little of it at the time. It was simply her reality and she did not realize how far from normal her family life was. Likewise Rob Ford. He has repeatedly said that everyone has problems, that everyone has a few drinks then drives. Last night in the interview with Peter Mansbridge, he talked about blacking out when he was drunk and the way he spoke, "you know, when you black out," it was as if he wanted  Mansbridge to agree, that was the way it was with him too. Drinking, extreme inebriation, has been such a routine part of Ford's life, that he thinks drinking is that big a part of most people's lives. He simply does not recognize that his drinking and many of his other outrageous behaviours are serious problems.

Yesterday's council meeting was unreal. Thank goodness  the local school boards have cancelled school trips to city hall. The yelling was bad enough but the sight of Ford running around the room, totally out of control, going to back up his brother was like watching a really bad reality show. I think of all the anti bullying programs out there and children constantly being told to tell someone in authority if they are being bullied. Here we had a scene straight from a school yard with a bully in charge of the whole place!  

There have been so many negative incidents over the past year and just in the past week, but the saddest sight of all was his poor wife standing beside him at his news conference, with her head hung low. This was not a typical policitial wife, "I'm going to stand by my man"photo, like Hilary Clinton. No, this was someone who had been forced to be there, who could not bring herself to look up, who looked like she wanted to run. If this man says what he says, and does what he does in public, what does he do and say in the privacy of his own home?

For her sake and for all of us, I hope this ends soon.

Birthdays

Today is my son Aaron's birthday! He is the wonderful guy who is responsible for our new verandah that I wrote about in the summer. Of course birthdays are for the birthday people but they are also a day for parents. Lives are changed forever with the birth of a first child.

Aaron might have been born the day before; that's when I was induced. My doctor, a very short man, climbed up onto a little stool and poked me with an instrument that looked like a knitting needle. "There", he pronounced. "That should do the trick. I'm going home now, to start digging a bomb shelter in my back yard." It was the day that Ronald Reagan was elected president of the U.S.

We spent the better part of the morning arguing with one of the nurses about my last name. She declared that there was no way that she could bring a baby to me that did not have the same last name on his bracelet as mine. My identification bracelet was changed three times. At one point, she enquired, "This Knott that you go by...is that your stage name?" Pat confirmed that I was indeed, a Broadway actor.

Later we walked the halls in a circle, trying to encourage labour. Every time we passed the corner room, the woman inside was yelling "Hey!" So every time he heard that, Pat would follow with "Jude." It was a long day.

Of course it all ended in the delivery room with Pat and a team of medical folks. As they all encouraged me to "push, push push", I felt like we were at a football game and I was the only guy on the team.

Yes, that day changes you forever. Happy Birthday Aaron. I love you!

High school reunion

I am sounding like a broken record but, again, sorry for the lack of contact. Real life has a way of getting in the way of my writing life. One recent event was my husband's high school reunion. When such events are organized there are a variety of reactions. Many folks have no desire to see anyone from that period of their lives. Others, such as the organizing committee at St. Pete's in Peterborough, work for a year because it is so important to them. I was so impressed with their effort  that I sent them this letter.

1965  A group of grade nines

Thanks for the Memories

I didn’t attend St. Peters High School. However, on Friday, October 11^th, there I was, along with about a thousand other people, crowding into the current building on Medical Drive as St. Pete’s celebrated its 100^th anniversary. I was there with my husband, Patrick and my mother in law, Rita. Pat attended St Pete’s from 1965 to 1970.

When we arrived from Ottawa on Friday afternoon, Rita expressed misgivings about attending the event. At eighty-eight, she didn’t think she would know many there. We convinced her to come along and it took her all of three seconds to meet someone she knew. I turned around and there she was, hugging an old friend. The entire evening went that way. It was virtually impossible to go more than five feet in the main foyer without her meeting yet another relative, friend or neighbour. Although I did not attend St Pete's, it gave me great pleasure to simply witness her and Pat’s enjoyment of the entire evening. When we told Rita that there was a pub at St. Anne’s parish hall, starting at ten pm, she needed no convincing, so off we went for more socializing.

The sentiment expressed over and over again that weekend was that this reunion at St Peters was simply a wonderful opportunity to visit with people that you might not have seen for a long time and may never see again. While we were in the sixties room, taking in the displays and listening to the great singing, someone looked around at the crowd and remarked that in twenty-five years, most of the people in that room would be dead. Sad but true; life is fleeting. Why not take any chance we have to visit at a celebration, rather than at a funeral home?

I never expected to see anyone from my past at St Pete's. After all, I grew up in Ottawa. What a happy surprise to see Jim and Sharon O. there! Although Pat originally knew them from Peterborough, I remember them as the wonderful couple who befriended us when we lived in Exeter, Ontario in the 70’s.

So, to the organizers who worked for a year to put together this reunion weekend, thank you. The level of organization was very impressive. The parking lot attendants, the current high school student volunteers, the welcoming area, the refreshments, the outstanding displays in the foyer and decade rooms...these all contributed to our enjoyment. Of course the two-sided name tags, complete with graduation dates, were very handy as folks with faulty memories looked first at the face before glancing down to the name tag for confirmation. There were athletic events on Saturday afternoon, a mass in the morning and a dance to finish it all off. I can’t imagine how many hours of work went into such a massive celebration.

The success of such an event can be measured in many ways: by the number of people who had pre-registered by Friday night, by the number of walk in registrations at the door, or by the number of people who attended the various events. In my view the success of the St Pete’s reunion is best measured by the smiles of recognition, the heartfelt hugs, and the long conversations as people reminisced. Perhaps Rita said it best when she pronounced it one of the best events ever held in Peterborough. I’ll always remember the end of the dance and the three of us dancing together, while singing along enthusiastically to  “Wasn’t that a party?!”  Thank you to the organizing committee for the happiness and new memories that you created for so many people.

"A white sports coat, and a pink carnation"  One of the many displays at the reunion!

Harperland Part 2

Well, it's been quite a day... an all day Harperfest! Things started off this morning on CBC radio with an interview on The Current with Paul Wells. His new book, The Longer I'm Prime Minister Stephen Harper and Canada, looks back from Harper's rise to power up to today. It was an interesting interview. Wells asserted that Harper is the most right wing PM we have had in his lifetime, far to the right of Diefenbaker and Mulroney. He said that Harper is such a control freak he never eats in public in case an awkward photo might be taken. He rehearses his speeches over and over, never taking chances, never giving impromptu remarks. Say what you want about Michael Ignatieff but I remember reading that his campaign speeches were often different and he always took questions. Harper, on the other hand, gave the same campaign speech over and over again.

Later, on Q, Jian Gomeshi interviewed veteran journalist Don Newman about his memoir, Welcome to the Broadcast. Again, a very interesting conversation about all kinds of political figures.

The day has been capped off with Mike Duffy's bombshell speech in the Senate. Now I am not about to start the Mike Duffy fan club but really..... at last..... someone is going to be able to show Harper for the person he really is. According to Duffy, Harper was in on the money deal from the start. Here we have a big name Conservative insider telling us how Harper operates. It is confirmation of exactly what many observers have been saying for a long time.  In Duffy's words, there is "unaccountable power in the PMO." To hear such a  totally blunt speech, as opposed to the usual Conservative  message machine is unbelievable.

Today was the political equivalent of a hockey playoff game, near the end of a series. The day has ended with CBC's The National, complete with At Issue and Rex Murphy. Murphy thinks that now Harper "must haul himself out of his surly cocoon." We'll see.

New Wardrobe Item

"What's that smell?" Pat asked. "That would be the rubbing alcohol," I replied. "Why on earth do you smell like rubbing alcohol?" he persisted. " I need it. It's my latest attempt to make this work."

You see, it all goes back to my new wardrobe item. I'll give you a hint. It has to do with a part of my aging anatomy now being officially declared incompetent.

I know what you're thinking. There are so many parts of me that could be declared incompetent. We could start with my brain that has such difficulty remembering names and book and movie titles. What about other body parts? As anyone who has seen me lately might observe...there's a whole lot of sagging going on.

My feet should have been declared incompetent years ago. Now I only wear footwear that will accomodate my orthotics. Even my eyelashes are duds. I scrub them with baby shampoo to keep the blepharitis (crusty eyelids) at bay. And no, this has nothing to do with my hair. My profile photo shows me with the curls that I had for approximately 45 years. It turns out they were hormonal. They arrived with puberty and left with menopause. Nothing remains the same.

Give up? Well the part of me that has most recently been examined are my legs. While they have looked pretty horrendous for years, I never cared because I can't see the back of my legs. They felt okay so I ignored them. However, they've gradually been getting more sore. Around the time we spent five days straight painting all the verandah spindles, in the extreme heat in July, they really made their prescence known. They were all crampy and achy.

I had an ultrasound done and the official diagnosis came back..."venous incompetence". Basically, the valves in my deep veins are not working. Of course this is not a particularly unusual problem. All kinds of people have bad veins and in my case I should not be surprised. My mother has had serious leg problems for  most of her life. One of the doctors who operated on her legs years ago, pronounced her legs the worst in the city of Ottawa. So really, I am lucky that mine have not bothered me much until now.

I should do more reading about it but basically, two of the common suggestions for treatment are to elevate your legs and to wear compression (support) stockings. So, I got a prescription for the stockings and set out to buy them. I chose a pair but the cashier convinced me to buy the next size up. I took them home, put them on and they promptly fell down. Because she had recommended the size change the salesperson agreed to exchange them.

Compression stockings don't look quite as bad as they used to. Yes, they're kind of shiny but I can live with that. I put on my new stockings and they felt good...tight but good. These are a thigh high model with a wide band at the top. On the outside the band looks lacey but on the inside it has a rubber backing. The idea is that the rubber just sticks to the top of your leg.

Well, they did stick and stay up there at first. But after a couple of days I decided I should wash them. Ever since that I have had trouble keeping them up. They start off fine but once I have walked around the house a bit there they are, down at my ankles.

So, I spoke to the salesperson who advised me to wet the rubber band before I put on the stockings. That worked for about 15 minutes. Next I was advised to clean off the rubber band with rubbing alcohol every time I put them on. That would clean off all my dead skin cells and help them to stick better. I cleaned off the offending skin cells but again, down they went. 

And so, later today I am going back to the store. Apparently the last resort is to buy a roll on glue stick, which you apply to your legs before you put on the stockings. 

Maybe this is the real reason that people my age retire. It takes so much time to get ready to get out the door. By the time do your back exercises so you can get out of bed, scrub your crusty eyelids, put your orthotics in the right shoes, put in your hearing aid, glue on your stockings, and cream up your wrinkly skin, it's almost lunch time!

A Happier Note - Culture Days in Ottawa

If you were in Ottawa in 1969 you may recognize this. It's not often we get to see it. Happily, last weekend, Culture Days were celebrated in many cities and towns across Canada. As part of Ottawa's celebration, the National Arts Centre was home to several events.

That lovely collection of colours is a section of the curtain in the NAC's main venue, Southam Hall. I remember seeing it when the Arts Centre opened in 1969 but have rarely seen it since. They simply don't use it much. Most of the time it hangs unseen, way up high above the stage.

For a half hour last Sunday it was lowered and members of the public were invited to see it. Then it disappeared again, so that people could participate in a variety of activities, one being backstage tours. 

It was fun to stand on that stage and see Southam Hall from the other side.

We enjoyed speaking to a carpenter in the props area and viewed some of the dressing rooms, which are pretty ordinary.

Besides the tours there were also free concerts.

These brass players from the NAC orchestra put on a fun show.

Coincidentally, there was another unique event  last Sunday afternoon that was not connected to Culture Days. Heritage Ottawa is an organization that offers guided walks through various Ottawa neighbourhoods. Last Sunday's was downtown, at a couple of parks that we'd never been to. Do you recognize this one?

Give up? Those three photos were taken on the roof of the Rideau Centre! The guided walk was on the rooftop gardens of the Rideau Centre and the National Arts Centre. I certainly did not know that there are three hundred trees growing on top of the shopping centre along with two kilometeres of walking paths. So much for thinking that green roofs are a relatively new idea! (The Rideau Centre opened in 1983.)

From the vantage point of the Rideau Centre garden, tour leader David Jeans pointed out various heriatge buildings. 

The best known of those were the Chateau Laurier and the former train station, now known as the government conference centre.

We then crossed over the Canal 

and onto the gardens of the NAC. While these are not nearly as large as those on top of the Rideau Centre, it was still great to realize that they are there and open for the public to enjoy. 

David Jeans pointed out that the NAC rooftop affords wonderful vantage points for viewing the Canada Day fireworks so we'll try to remember that next July. We finished our afternoon feeling pretty darn lucky to be living here.

Living in Harperland Part 1

Originally I thought I would start a separate blog about our pal Stephen Harper and that blog would start at the time of the next federal election. However, I simply cannot wait that long. Almost daily I come across something in the paper, radio, TV or internet about how our lives are being affected by this government.  So, if you are, by any chance, a Harper fan, then you'll want to skip my upcoming Living In Harperland items. Eventually I'd also like to start another series...about life in Ottawa. There's bound to be a lot of overlap in those two series.

It's hard to know where to begin. Let's start with the enemies of the government list which came out this summer, at the time of the swearing in of the new cabinet members....a heads up for them, of who to avoid‎. Now of course I have not seen the complete list but just for the record..Mr. Harper....if my name is not on that list, it was an omission. Sign me up. There are all kinds of articles about this list. Here's Andrew Coyne's.

You know when you listen to news reports they often will say something like, "Meanwhile Ottawa says"....or "while the provinces say ...Ottawa says...." For folks not living in Ottawa, you might get the superficial impression that the reference to Ottawa refers to the citizens of Ottawa. That is ...we might all be pals of the current government. It reminds me of driving to Saskatchewan when Trudeau was the PM. We were at a gas station in a small prairie town and the attendant (yes, back in the days when there was service at all gas stations) asked us where we were from. When we told him Ottawa, he got all riled up and told us exactly what we could do with Mr. Trudeau! Anyhow, just for the record, in the last federal election, in the 7 Ottawa area ridings there were 2 Liberals and 4 Conservatives elected. I live in Ottawa Centre which elected an NDP member. Ottawa Centre reflect my own personal brand. I've always been an ABC voter..Anyone But Conservative. Ottawa Centre goes back and forth between the Liberals and New Democrats.

Since summer has just ended and with it, the season for watching Mosaika..that's what I will start with. There have long been summer evening shows on Parliament Hill. They used to be called Sound and Light shows. I enjoyed them but they were nothing compared to the Mosaika show which started in 2010. It uses the Parliament buildings as a screen with amazing visual effects. It's about a half hour long and entertaining for folks of all ages.  We have seen it every year since it started and all of our out of town visitors have enjoyed it.

So last month we took friends to see it and I was really looking forward to seeing it again. While I enjoyed it,  I wasn't as enthusiastic this time. The next day I spoke to my niece about it and she asked, "Mary Ellen, is it true... what my friend told me? that Mosaika has been Harperized?"

That hit the nail on the head...it has indeed been Harperized. (There is almost nothing in Ottawa that has been left untouched by this man.) What struck me as I watched it was the increase in military history. Of course the war of 1812 was given prominent mention. Besides the increased time with reminders of military glory I couldn't help but notice the Prime Ministers who were recognized and not recognized. If you were a Conservative you had a lot better chance at airtime than your Liberal counterparts.  I'm not sure how to check out the script but from my sometimes faulty memory.... John Deifenbaker is prominenently quoted...."the right honourable John Diefenbaker" intro, then his voice giving a part of  a speech, while Lester Pearson, winner of the Nobel Peach Prize and our flag guy, is not. Also lacking almost any mention is a certain Pierre Trudeau.

 The increase in military content was discussed in another piece in The Citizen.

“This year we’re aligning ourselves more with some of the milestones and celebrations in Canadian history,” said NCC spokeswoman Denise LeBlanc, noting the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812 and the 60th anniversary of the end of the Korean War. “Those choices were made by the NCC, of course in consultation with our partners. We went to our board of directors in April and brought that proposal to them.”

The program content would have been reviewed by the office of Foreign Affairs Minister John Baird, the federal minister responsible for the NCC, the ministry of Canadian Heritage, and the Prime Minister’s Office, she said.

“It has a very high level of government awareness,” said LeBlanc. “It’s a very visible program on Parliament Hill on one of the most iconic buildings in the country, so it’s reviewed at a high level.” That has been the case all along, she says. 

Yup...Harperized for sure! Mosaika finished its run on September 7th but it will be back next year. If you're in Ottawa next summer you really should see it. In spite of the new political slant, it's still worth seeing!

Still here !

My sincere apologies. It's been a long time since I have written. I won't bore you with mundane details but suffice it to say that I have been a busy grandma and daughter in law. Many folks worry that if they retire they will be bored but so far, I am constantly busy. Our grandson's first birthday was the highlight of the past month for sure.

As for the blog, well, I simply got discouraged. At one point I checked back and realized that many of my links were not working...how embarrassing. Happily, I visited Brendan last night and he has patiently re-taught me that skill. I think I have managed to restore all the links. So, I'm back!

train travel

I love travelling by train! Yesterday I travelled from Ottawa to Toronto and decided to treat myself and spend the extra $25.00 to take the train instead of a bus. What a difference! I love the seat and legroom, the opportunity to get up and walk around, the sound of the whistle and the scenery.

 Farmer's fields, small towns and backyards are a big improvement over the boring 401 with all its truck traffic.  Happily my trip yesterday was also totally on schedule.

I only wish that the federal government was putting more emphasis, planning and dollars into train travel. While yesterday's train  made good time, it is a turtle compared to the ones we travelled on in Germany and Holland last year. Canadian trains aren't even in the same game as their European counterparts. In Canada we continue to tear up track instead of laying more down. I wonder when and if ever, train travel in Canada will get the cash infusion it deserves.

Education

Well, I'm feeling lazy today. It's the first day of school and as a retired teacher I feel lucky. I have time to attend to family and house jobs without the stress of schoolwork crowding my thoughts. My day started off well. Jian Gomeshi's opening  essay on CBC radio Q was called Unbottling our water. Amen Jian! 
Because I am in a lazy mood I will cheat and post a piece that I wrote a while back. This one appeared in the Ottawa Citizen  on September 6, 2011. They called it Education is a long road. This time around I'd like to dedicate it to my darling grandson who just went to daycare for the very first time. The journey commences!

.....................

It’s the first month of school and for the first time in twenty seven years, we do not have a child in school. In 1984 we put our first born on a school bus.  Up until this past spring, we have had kids in school ever since. Two years after him, his sister followed him to St Mary’s School in Brampton. Their little brother  joined his siblings at Elmdale Public School, in 1989, after our move to Ottawa.

When you enrol your little one in kindergarten, you don’t envision the long road ahead for them and you. You concentrate on this year’s teacher and classmates. When you attend that first parent /teacher meeting, you don’t realize that this is the first, of possibly 14 such meetings, 18 if you go again in the second semesters of high school.  That’s just the night you meet the teachers. We’re not even talking about parent /teacher interview nights – probably about 84 for us. It’s probably a good idea not to think about the big numbers – just take it a year at a time.

We don’t regret spending any of that time and energy going to those meetings, helping with homework, going on class trips, or volunteering in the classroom. Is there any better way to be involved in your child’s life than to become a partner in their education? We were always eager to meet the people with whom our children were spending their days. Although the news was not always positive, we appreciated the frank feedback that we received on interview nights.

There have been bumps and detours over the years, but the “kids” have emerged from the process as a teacher/small business owner, a social worker and a translator.  We know that we are very fortunate that our children were blessed with the ability to succeed in school and that they were motivated to work diligently to achieve their goals - lucky us!

It has often been said that it takes a village to raise a child; we had such a village. Our extended families have provided care, interest and enthusiasm from the very start. Our neighbours have been patient with ball hockey and other games that spilled onto their properties. These neighbours were friendly customers when our children were delivering newspapers or selling Girl Guide cookies. They served in countless volunteer roles:  making ice at the local rink, serving on school committees and acting as Cub leaders, Brownie leaders, or Sunday School teachers. Every adult that a child meets has an impact on a youngster, whether it is the compassionate doctors who have served our needs or the instructors who guided them through tennis, swim, music and other lessons.

But it was at school where they spent the bulk of their time away from home. Kids are affected by everyone on staff, whether it is a welcoming secretary in the office, a friendly caretaker or a compassionate guidance counsellor.   

Of course their teachers played a major role in their formation. To all those who  taught  our children- at St. Mary’s,  Elmdale, Connaught, or Fisher Park elementary schools, Nepean or Canterbury High Schools, the University of Guelph, SUNY at Potsdam, Queen’s, Carleton or Ottawa U  – a sincere thank you. We are very grateful for your diligence and encouragement. Thank you for your patience with us. Like all parents, we have made our fair share of mistakes over the years.

School has changed tremendously since that fall of 1984. Laptops, Smart Boards and the internet were not a part of classrooms then. However, in spite of all the technological advances, today’s students mostly require caring adults in their lives; they need actively involved parents, attentive and informed teachers, and an encouraging community.

When our children were babies, I naively thought that parenting was about a twenty year job. Of course I now realize that it’s a lifelong vocation; we will be parents for the rest of our lives. However, this school portion of our journey is over.  Many thanks to our supportive community. Good luck to those just starting out.

You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar

Perhaps it is because I started off my comments in a positive manner,  that The Ottawa Citizen printed my letter to the editor today....another chance to vent about the infill housing issue in Ottawa. I must remember to use this strategy more often.

Dear Editor

A big thank you to Anita Murray for her article in Saturday's Homes Section, (Aug. 24) titled Uncovering a Jewel. This piece describes how interior designer Ulya Jensen and renovator Noel McGinnity revamped a heritage house in Sandy Hill. "We talked about what we should preserve, what is popular now and what's going to show some of the history and the age of the actual building." One photo shows a contemporary kitchen with the home's original oak pocket doors.

It was a pleasure to read that people have recognized the value in one of Ottawa's older homes. Years from now, this city will wake up and realize that we have thrown away so many of these gems..houses with unique features, with character and charm. In many neighbourhoods, these older homes are being replaced with boring, box-like structures. These doubles  are cheap to erect and bring the city twice the taxes so, in the name of intensification, the older gems are being dumped into landfill.  If Ms. Jensen and Mr. McGinnity are looking for projects, please run right over to my Kitchissippi neighbourhood.

On the day of Ms. Murray's piece, I attended an estate sale in a lovely home that will be demolished this week. For a home that was built in the twenties, it has many outstanding features. Besides the loss of these houses I am concerned with the environmental sin of dumping perfectly good materials into landfill. Why should we bother to sort our plastic, paper, and compost if developers are allowed to deposit priceless wood trim and doors, glass, brick etc. into the dump?

I Have a Dream

Today is the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s I Have a Dream speech in Washington. All the media coverage has got me thinking about my visit to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. I have been working on a book...a family travel memoir. Today I will post parts of the chapter titled Motherhood and Mayhem in Memphis, along with a few photos.

Who knows where parenthood will lead us? At one point in the spring of 2007, I found myself sitting alone on a plane heading for Memphis, Tennessee. I was on my way to visit my twenty-five year old daughter, who was living in Memphis for three months while she trained as a social work intern at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

From the safety of our home in Ottawa she had arranged to rent an apartment in a secure building, close to the hospital. However, upon arrival in Memphis, she discovered that the “secure” building wasn’t always locked, she was the only occupant of the top floor, and locals advised her that the short walk from her building to the hospital was very dangerous.  During her first weekend, there were seven murders in the downtown core. The four years she had spent living in the Queen’s University “student ghetto” had not prepared her for the perils of living in downtown Memphis. In Kingston, she and the five women she had shared a house with, had never bothered to lock their door! After her first three weeks in Memphis, she still sounded downright scared, so I arranged a visit.

..........

It was worry that brought me to Memphis. For the first time in my life, I arrived alone in a strange city, rented a car, and drove in the dark, without a phone, towards an unfamiliar downtown. Like a riled mother bear, I was ready to do anything to protect my daughter.  With my arrival safely accomplished, we both relaxed and put the reason for the visit on the back burner.  I did the usual things that we all do when visiting our university-age children – I took her out for dinners and we went grocery shopping.

This weekend was the first time that we had been together, just the two of us, as tourists. Memphis offered many attractions that we both enjoyed, among them Graceland and the National Civil Rights Museum. Although Elvis Presley and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. were icons of my youth and not hers, she too was both entertained and moved by the displays in both places.

Memphis is a city of contrasts, with its reputation of being both the Mecca of American music and yet one of its most dangerous cities. A walk along Main St. on that sunny Saturday, gave us another example of the duality that is Memphis. While trolley cars and horse drawn carriages ferried tourists along this thoroughfare, we were otherwise alone, with no other pedestrians. It seemed as if we were walking through a ghost town, with its abundance of boarded up storefronts.

At one point, we turned a corner and it seemed as if I was walking into a history book. There, at the bottom of a grassy hill, was the Lorraine Motel; the scene of that famous balcony photo; the site of Dr. King’s assassination. 

The National Civil Rights Museum’s architects have kept the motel as the facade of the museum, complete with a couple of old, white Cadillacs parked in front. 

The displays and exhibits chronicle the significant milestones of the civil rights struggle. The climax of the tour comes when you find yourself in a hallway, with a vantage point into both Dr. King’s hotel room and the famous balcony. 

From there, you proceed across the street to the former rooming house, where the shots originated. 

This too is now part of this powerful museum, a continuation of Dr. King’s legacy. We left there, profoundly moved by what we had experienced.

Pride Week in Ottawa

I don't usually pay too much attention to Pride Week activities. This year however, it was brought to our attention at our church's Sunday mass. The homily, the songs and the intentions all emphasized the theme of inclusion.

What I have not written about yet is the fact that I am a Roman Catholic. There are days when it is difficult to feel  much pride about that because of the many scandals in the media. However I think it is safe to say that many of us remain Catholic, not because of Vatican dictates but because we have found a local parish that really does follow and encourage the central teachings of Christ...the lessons of compassion, inclusion, love, mercy and generosity. For us, St Joseph Catholic Church in downtown Ottawa is such a parish. St. Joes, with its Women's Centre and Supper Table is a special place.

Anyhow this Sunday the homily, or reflection on the readings, was given by a young woman who reflected on her experiences as a lesbian and how she had overcome her feelings of guilt and shame. In her moving message she spoke about our diversity and unity. It's not often that you hear clapping in mass, after a homily, but that's what happened. It was the visiting priest who started the clapping.

Perhaps she was encouraged by our new pope's recent message, who am I to judge? More about him in a future post.

As we walked to the car, I wondered what my elderly mother-in-law thought about it all. After all she is no spring chicken. When asked about her age, she likes to say that she's "a pair of eights." As we left the parking lot she piped up, "Well, I never thought I would hear that in a Catholic Church." There was a pause and then she added, "and it's about time." Amen.

Never Judge a Camper by His/Her Vehicle

Sandbanks..what a beach! I was lucky enough to spend 3 days at Sandbanks Provincial Park last week.

The truth is that although I love being there, I was dreading the prep work that goes into camping. Whether you go for a night or a week, you still have to bring the same basic equipment for sleeping and cooking. (While we were away, our son found my typed camping supply list  on our kitchen counter. He sent out a text and pronounced it "nerd alert". For me such a list is my sanity.) At any rate, once all the equipment  was stuffed into the car and we were on our way, I was looking forward to our stay, and the opportunity to sleep outside and swim in that glorious water.

Now our old tent, well I could have set that up by myself in five minutes. Unfortunately a few years ago, a strong wind rolled it down a hill and into a lake. This is our third year with this new one but putting up a complicated tent once a year is not often enough to make any serious imprint on my aging brain cells. It feels like the first time very year. It must have taken the two of us a half hour to erect the tent. Pat kept saying,"You've got to laugh" but I didn't find it funny.

After all that exertion of mind and body we decided to swim. What a luxury...to be able to walk for a mere five minutes and be at that magnificent beach...all that sand, the sun shining on the water and the wind creating wild crazy waves.To jump in the water and swim at 6 pm....it made up for the packing and setting up the tent.

What I enjoy, and don't enjoy, about camping is the shared experience, the sense of our common humanity. We are all here for the same reasons: the beach, the waves and the chance to spend time outdoors with family and friends. That's about where the common characteristics finish though. All kinds of people have all kinds of ways to experience camping.

I made my way over to the "flushies", the "comfort station", the bathroom we would be sharing with hundreds of others. I noted the new sinks and taps with appreciation. I was also pleased to see a new toilet seat in one of the stalls (why not both?) but was perplexed by the sign posted over the toilet. "Please do not flush toilet with your feet." I was thinking about that as I walked back to the campsite, wondering how and why a person would flush with their feet.

We've had better campsites other years. This time we were on a road where the sites were close together, offering very little privacy or shade. Our next door neighbours had a huge trailer plus a gigantic tent. There were about 8 people milling about.

Lately I'm not very good about guessing peoples ages. I mean, if I go to an emergency department in a hospital, all the doctors look about fifteen. So, in my cursory assessment,  our bikini clad neighbours looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. "Great", I thought. "It's going to be noisy."

 Over the years we've had a variety of camping neighbours. Often it's been a quiet, peaceful time..nothing but the sounds of the waves and wind, the cracking of campfires, crickets and.... the sound of our own kids fighting. Occasionally we've had the misfortune to be near yahoos... the guys who are there just to drink and party....the kind who don't care how drunk they get and how many people they disturb. Provincial parks have rules of course, but it isn't always easy to reach a park ranger in the wee hours. Camping is like being part of a gigantic sleepover, only you don't know any of the other guests. You just hope you end up beside some considerate folks.

Anyhow we started prepping dinner, a very simple affair. It was getting cooler so we went into the tent to change into pants. Now the only flat area on our site was right beside the road so there we were. The flaps were up on the windows so we couldn't  see what had arrived but all of a sudden it sounded like a truck was about to drive into our tent. If we were at home in the city I might have thought it was a garbage truck or a furniture delivery. Whatever it was, it was incredibly loud and revving its motor right outside our tent.

When we looked out we saw this.

Now there were 3 vehicles at our neighbours. To me that was the clincher: all those teens and now a huge noisy truck with young guys piling out of it. We were in for a long noisy night.

But you know what? I was wrong. There was actually a set of responsible parents on that site. Although there were 16 people there for dinner and a bonfire after that, they were not noisy...just a friendly group of family and friends having a good time. Some of them drifted off to their own sites and those who remained were totally reasonable. I wonder if I would have been convinced we'd have a noisy night if that truck had been a Ford Focus? Of course it was wrong of me to pre-judge them.

And, as I scribbled this out the next day, I was interrupted by our neighbour on the other side,  who came over to talk to us. Stupid me! It turns out that I had accidentally left our parking lights on in the car. Glen, a mechanic from Toronto, had noticed the lights on and was concerned that we were going to run the battery down. He offered to give us a boost if needed. He returned a few hours later, to make sure the car was alright.

That's camping for you, yet another confirmation of ...We're all in this together.

Painting spindles

Okay, so I wasn't really fishing. Sorry for misleading you....and for my absence. I have not been fishing for many years. As a kid I enjoyed it. We used to fish with my cousins when we rented cottages at Constance Bay. It was a fun way to spend time: yacking in the rowboat, being away from our parents, catching endless perch and sometimes for excitement, a huge catfish. We also fished when we visited our grandmother in Saskatchewan. She and her husband Joe would take us to fish off a bridge not far from their place in Weyburn. Then we'd go down into their basement where Joe taught us how to clean our catch.

While I have not been fishing this summer, we have enjoyed some time at a cottage with our daughter, her husband and adorable baby. It was a welcome change of scene from the porch building. Actually a neighbour has informed us that if the structure goes right across the front of your house, it is not called a porch, but a verandah so...it's a verandah.

 For a long time people were calling it a deck. With it's sides completely open and a roof overhead it looked like a covered deck. While sitting on it, we felt like we were on a stage. Now, with the railings and spindles in place, it finally resembles what we had envisioned...an old fashioned verandah. This particular verandah has a lot of spindles...128, in case you're wondering. We had originally thought that we would paint the verandah once the structure was complete but the young man who is building the verandah had a different idea. Alex strongly suggested that we paint as he built. That is, we have been painting like crazy to keep up with him. In the end we know he was right. Painting all the pieces separately, on tables, is a lot easier than painting while either stretched up high on a ladder or scrunched down on our knees on the floor.

The climax of the painting frenzy occured right in the middle of the heat wave. We had to paint all the spindles and the top and bottom railings before Alex assembled them and attached them to the verandah. It wasn't just a matter of painting. For each piece we gave it a quick sanding, then spot primed the knots with a shellac based primer, then primed the entire piece. After that we added two coats of paint.

Why we painted the first 100 spindles with a brush I do not know. That was a serious mistake. In case you ever have to paint 128 spindles...go buy yourself a very small roller. It is well worth the $5.00 ! A brush does an okay job but it does streak and it often dribbles on the edge that you are not working on. Then you've got to go back and catch the dribble before it hardens.With a roller there are no streaks, no dribbles and it is 10 times faster. It kills me to think that we put in many extra hours in that exreme heat because of that mistake. Oh well, I'll put that in the chapter...."lessons learned while building the verandah."

Gone Fishin'

So Long, Farewell...

Well the Pond House has disappeared. Earlier in the month I wrote that the city, in its wisdom, had granted permission for the new owner to demolish it and build a double on the site.

Last weekend I heard that the city had issued the demolition permit. I meant to go over there first thing Monday morning but got busy with our porch building project and didn't go by that corner until 1 pm. Too late...it was gone. It is such a weird feeling to look at a site where a building stood (in this case for 85 years) and suddenly it is empty. Even when you expect it to happen, it still takes your breath away. In the end, I'm glad I was not there to witness the actual destruction. That would have been too sad.

One note of consolation however: last night I was talking to a neighbour and learned that he had bought the front door of the house. Another neighbour went in and was able to take a lot of the trim that he will use to fix up his own place. So, all was not lost. Hopefully someone took the three stained glass windows.

I thought our ward of Kitchissippi had it bad with infill housing but I must admit it is worse downtown in my sister in law's Sandy Hill neighbourhood. There, developers are erecting huge box-like structures and filling them with 15 to 20 bedrooms and a few bathrooms. Being close to Ottawa U makes this kind of obscene profit ($12000.00 a month from students' rent) too tempting  for greedy developers to pass up.

The long time residents in the area are horrified by what the city is allowing in their community. It makes my neighbourhood's concerns seem like nothing.

Summer!!

At last..the best season of all! Although our current sultry weather is exhausting, it's a whole lot more fun than slipping on ice and shivering as you wait for the bus. We've had a busy week, with a quick trip to Toronto and Peterborough. How easy it is now to take our little grandson out in his stroller, without having to force him into a snowsuit. Our first day of summer, June 21st, started off the season well. The night before, we had stayed overnight with Avery while his parents enjoyed a night on their own, at a  downtown hotel. Thankfully Avery slept through the night ...that meant our day started at 5:20. After all, it was the longest day of the year!

After his morning meal, walk and nap, we packed him into the stroller and headed downtown on the subway. Even taking the subway is a joyfilled experience when you are accompanied by a smiling baby. He loved the motion of the train and the attention of all those around him. Alighting at Union Station, we were confronted by a massive construction zone. If you are arriving by train there, in the next while, be prepared for the fact that there is no way for anyone to meet you by car..Front Street is completely torn up, for blocks.

The reason for our little jaunt was a swim at the hotel pool. It was definitely worth the trip. The Intercontinental has the best indoor pool we have ever seen...and we had it all to ourselves! Avery kept us entertained with his kicking and splashing.

Our first day of summer also included outdoor lunch at St. Lawrence Market and a backyard barbecue. All in all, a great way to celebrate the longest day of the year. It made me think of a day so many years ago, when we lived in Exeter, Ontario.

Back then I was teaching at the local elementary school and desparate for a movie to show my students. I needed some entertainment to keep them quietly occupied as we spent our last days together in our portable classroom....a hot, tin box behind the tiny school. In those days you could order NFB films through your local public library....those huge reels which you showed on your school's projector. On June 21st 1978, I called up the librarian and explained that I had an after school meeting and didn't think I would be able to make it in to pick up my films before her closing time of 4:30 pm.

If I was in a city that would have been the end of the conversation. I would have had to pick up the films the next day. But I was in a very small town, with a very friendly librarian, Elizabeth Schroeder. She replied instantly, "Don't worry about that. I'll keep the library open until you get here. After all, it's the longest day of the year."

It's funny... the events that stick in your mind and those that disappear. All these years later I remember her friendliness and generosity. So here's to summer and making the most of our long sunny days.

You Can't Always Get What you Want

The Rolling Stones told us that a long time ago and of course they were right. Back in April, I wrote about Bob Rae, hoping that if Trudeau wins the next election, that he will surround himself with political veterans like Bob Rae. Alas, we now know that won't happen. Today Rae announced his retirement from political life. There was an interview on As It happens and probably many more. He goes on my short list of great prime ministers we never had...too bad for all of us.

On another note, my apologies for my technical mistakes. I see that I have lost the two photos in my offering from this morning. The good news is that we will be seeing our daughter this weekend and I will enlist her assistance. Thank goodness for children to keep parents in the loop!

The greatest thing about Canada !

I love CBC radio and television! Sunday's shows reminded me of this basic fact of my life....again. On the early morning show I heard that there was to be a public memorial for Max Ferguson and I was so wishing that I was in Toronto for that. On Monday night on As it Happens they played a brief clip from that celebration...Michael Enright's remarks. I can only hope that the entire event will soon be available to listen to, in its entirety.

Max Ferguson was brilliant..and so darn funny. He is the guy who got me hooked on CBC.
Back in university days, my Dad bought a 2nd car so I could drive to Carleton. Yes, I was spoiled....I should have been taking the bus ....oh well. I don't know why but at home the radio dial was turned to a commercial station while the car radio was on CBC. When I got my license and the priviledge of driving the family car, I became familiar with CBC radio. It was not love at first sight. When I turned on the car, I instantly changed to a commercial station so I could listen to the Beatles or Herman's Hermits or whoever was playing. Gradually I stopped doing that and started listening to the CBC programs. Before long I was hooked. When I had afternoon classes, I remember so many days of laughing like crazy as I drove along, listening to the brilliant, political craziness of Max Fergusen as he lampooned the politicians of the day. I was late to a lot of classes because I simply could not make myself leave the car until his show was finished. I love good comedy but it is not easy to find today. Rick Mercer is one guy who reminds me of Max...both guys being politically savvy, intelligent and funny as hell. I also enjoy Steve Patterson's The Debaters.

Over the years I have enjoyed so much great entertainment, education, life lessons...all from CBC radio. It was my great good fortune to be at home with the kids during the Peter Gzowski years...what a country wide community he created. In the afternoon there was Vicki Gabereau with frequent guest..the hilarious Bill Richardson. I could go one at great length about so many truly outstanding CBC radio and television programs that I have enjoyed, ever since I started driving, but I won't.

What I will say is that CBC is not as great as it once was. How could it be? Their funding has been eroding steadily for many years now. There are numerous reasons to despise, to loathe the Harper government but their gutting of the CBC ranks way up high on my list. Thank goodness there are organizations that are leading the fight to bring this to our attention and to attempt to fight the current plans.

The following is a quote from a recent letter from Friends of Canadian Broadcasting‎.   I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it with my own eyes... The Harper Conservatives have released the policy resolutions that will be considered when delegates to the Conservative Party convention meet in Calgary later this month.  Among the proposals are policies that would ultimately kill CBC funding altogether, converting CBC into a beggar broadcaster and eliminating services Canadians depend on.

Lead Now (leadnow.ca) is another organization, devoted to preserving  Canadian democracy.Here is a part of their current letter.....  That’s why the Harper Conservatives buried a CBC takeover clause in the back pages of the latest Omnibus Budget Bill. The clause will compromise the CBC’s independence by giving the government unprecedented power over the jobs of CBC’s editors and journalists. Last week, Conservative MPs used their majority to pass the Omnibus Budget Bill, Bill C-60, but thanks to the 200,000 Canadians who spread the word about the takeover clause online, we’re ready to fight back and free the CBC from political interference. The horror of a majority government lead by a single minded person like Stephen Harper is that our country is being drastically changed in oh so many ways. Maybe, just maybe, if we support these organizations, we can bring attention to the importance of preserving the CBC, for us.... for all Canadians.