I heard that the caucasions in North America will be in the minority by 2036. Judging by the way caucasions are treated by minorities now, I'm expecting little will change. I honestly feel, in general, that I'm shown greater respect by so-called minorities than by other caucasions.
My sister and I met for coffee today at the local mall and had a nice conversation with an immigrant family. I say "immigrant" with some uncertainty because their English was perfect so it could better be assumed they were born here. I tried to judge their ancestry and think they might have been Indian or something close. They were beautiful people, in appearance and friendliness.
Their daughter spoke easily with us and told us how she's only 4 years old right now but she will grow taller and older in time. Her little brother (1 year old) looked slightly fearful of us at first but soon began to trust our smiles and soft voices.
My sister and I talk to anyone. If they're friendly it doesn't matter what color, race, or sex they are. If they appear to be foreigners it's even more interesting because we can learn a little something from them. If they're cold, then we just leave them alone.
I've always wanted to take a college or university course on religion so that I can better understand the mindset of our latest immigrants. I suppose that Moslems, for one, have been in Canada for ages but I'm only recently becoming aware of them because their numbers are growing. Having no religion of my own, I still believe that religion rules the world. It certainly is the cause of most of the turmoil on earth.
The little family we spoke to today opened my eyes just a bit more. They were in the food court of the mall but had brought their own food from home. They appeared to be well dressed and well educated, but they were different in that they were doing something very unusual...but sensible. They were all eating from plastic containers and the food smelled incredible. We asked what it was and was told "lemon rice", and then the lady told us how to make it. How nice.
I looked around me at all the overweight people (me included) who were munching on overpriced fast food we'd purchased at the concessions and then I looked at this lovely little family sitting there eating their own healthy food and wondered idly who were the idiots and who were the smart ones.
Instead of laughing at strange new customs and habits, we could learn a lot if we judge them with an open mind. I'm not going to be taking my own food with me to the food court any time soon but I really do admire this family for doing their own thing.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Character Shows Early
I've raised three daughters and had a hand in raising eight grandchildren. It's been my experience that the character of the child becomes apparent very early in life.
Last night we had a little dinner party at my eldest daughter's house and the conversation slipped around to some of the antics of our younger family members. I told a story that impressed me greatly when it happened and was powerful enough in it's content to still fill me with awe.
Years ago I took care of three grandchildren a few times a week and one of our favorite outings was to a park where there was a large wading pool. The children were quite young at that time with the youngest, a girl, being only 1 1/2 and her brothers were just 3 and 4 years old. Tyson was the oldest and had distinguished himself from birth as a happy, contented, and responsible little boy.
This day we were at the park and the children were playing in the pool as Gramma watched diligently. Aeron was such a tiny little thing and I worried about the rambunctious antics of the older and larger children in the pool because they could have hurt her by just knocking her over.
I remember her tiny little self standing on the rim of the pool as two much older boys jostled each other in play near her. I watched carefully, not wanting to move in unnecessarily, but not wanting them to get too close to her. As I was about to step in and safeguard Aeron, her brother, Tyson, who had also been watching carefully, stepped up and inbetween his little sister and the larger boys. He said nothing but simply placed his little 4 year old body between his sister and what he thought could be danger. My heart melted.
Today, Tyson is a grown man in this third year of university. He has strong character and determination, just like when he was a little boy.
Last night we had a little dinner party at my eldest daughter's house and the conversation slipped around to some of the antics of our younger family members. I told a story that impressed me greatly when it happened and was powerful enough in it's content to still fill me with awe.
Years ago I took care of three grandchildren a few times a week and one of our favorite outings was to a park where there was a large wading pool. The children were quite young at that time with the youngest, a girl, being only 1 1/2 and her brothers were just 3 and 4 years old. Tyson was the oldest and had distinguished himself from birth as a happy, contented, and responsible little boy.
This day we were at the park and the children were playing in the pool as Gramma watched diligently. Aeron was such a tiny little thing and I worried about the rambunctious antics of the older and larger children in the pool because they could have hurt her by just knocking her over.
I remember her tiny little self standing on the rim of the pool as two much older boys jostled each other in play near her. I watched carefully, not wanting to move in unnecessarily, but not wanting them to get too close to her. As I was about to step in and safeguard Aeron, her brother, Tyson, who had also been watching carefully, stepped up and inbetween his little sister and the larger boys. He said nothing but simply placed his little 4 year old body between his sister and what he thought could be danger. My heart melted.
Today, Tyson is a grown man in this third year of university. He has strong character and determination, just like when he was a little boy.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Jon Rallo Should Rot in Jail
In 1979, Jon Rallo murdered his 29 year old wife, 5 year old daughter, and 6 year old son. He tossed their bodies in the Welland Canal but only his wife and daughter have been found to this day. He has refused to take resposibility for the murders or tell authorities where his son's body might be found. He has never shown any remorse for his actions.
He was convicted on very strong evidence and spent all these years in prison but the parole board has now seen fit to allow him to move to a half way house with unescorted visits into the community.
A person who could do this to his family should never have been paroled. There's something missing in the makeup of this man and he'll always be a danger to society.
In my humble opinion, there are certain crimes which can never be forgiven and murdering your child is at the top of the list.
He was convicted on very strong evidence and spent all these years in prison but the parole board has now seen fit to allow him to move to a half way house with unescorted visits into the community.
A person who could do this to his family should never have been paroled. There's something missing in the makeup of this man and he'll always be a danger to society.
In my humble opinion, there are certain crimes which can never be forgiven and murdering your child is at the top of the list.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Update on Mcdonalds' Food Handling Policy
Now I know why Mcdonalds' employees can handle the customer's food with bare hands. A Mcdonalds' employee in British Columbia developed a dermatitis to her hands which was made worse by wearing plastic gloves. She was a 23 year employee of the company and they were cold enough to fire her because she was no longer able to wear gloves when handling food.
Rightly she sued the company because they failed to provide her with a job where gloves would not be necessary. The British Columbia Civil Rights Commission upheld the lawsuit and Mcdonalds was forced to pay the lady $25,000.
Because of this lawsuit which was more about Mcdonalds' callous treatment of a lady who had worked for them faithfully for 23 years by not giving her a position where she wouldn't be forced to wear gloves, Mcdonalds now endangers the public by allowing it's food handlers to do so with bare hands.
I wonder what will happen when the customers start suing Mcdonalds for illnesses caused by the new policy?
Doesn't anyone think logically anymore?
Rightly she sued the company because they failed to provide her with a job where gloves would not be necessary. The British Columbia Civil Rights Commission upheld the lawsuit and Mcdonalds was forced to pay the lady $25,000.
Because of this lawsuit which was more about Mcdonalds' callous treatment of a lady who had worked for them faithfully for 23 years by not giving her a position where she wouldn't be forced to wear gloves, Mcdonalds now endangers the public by allowing it's food handlers to do so with bare hands.
I wonder what will happen when the customers start suing Mcdonalds for illnesses caused by the new policy?
Doesn't anyone think logically anymore?
LPGA--Speak English or Goodbye
The LPGA is telling it's golfers that they must be able to communicate effectively in English by 2009 or be suspended. I'd like to see the CEO of the LPGA go to work for some of our utility companies.
When I try to reach a Bell telephone rep I'm just as likely to reach someone in Quebec or India who, though they speak halting English, are terribly difficult for me to understand. I waste a lot of time and patience trying to get or give information.
If a golfer has to speak fluent English I don't see why Canadian utility representatives are allowed to get by with such sparse ability. The last time I spoke with a Bell rep he was in India and, even though he was trying his best to speak English, it was agony for me to understand a word he was saying. I felt very sorry for him but ended up being sick to death of Bell Canada. Yes, that was "Bell CANADA"!
When I try to reach a Bell telephone rep I'm just as likely to reach someone in Quebec or India who, though they speak halting English, are terribly difficult for me to understand. I waste a lot of time and patience trying to get or give information.
If a golfer has to speak fluent English I don't see why Canadian utility representatives are allowed to get by with such sparse ability. The last time I spoke with a Bell rep he was in India and, even though he was trying his best to speak English, it was agony for me to understand a word he was saying. I felt very sorry for him but ended up being sick to death of Bell Canada. Yes, that was "Bell CANADA"!
The Closing of Summer, 2008
This has been an eventful summer for me. Some of it was crummy but most was pretty good, even though we had way too much rain.
I accomplished a lot more necessary work than I'd anticipated but sometimes you just have to deal with what comes your way and that's what I did.
The squirrels in the attic were by far my worst experience with the newly discovered mice a more distant second. The squirrels are gone (fingers crossed) and the mice are on their way (fingers crossed).
I had to have the basement floor relaid after it got damaged by the water that came in the basement last fall and I had to have the bathroom shower retiled when the old tile started falling off. Then the front and back gardens needed reframing but that worked out well because I finally got a stone wall around the front garden. This was also the year to stain the back deck and it looks like new once again.
The trees in the back yard have grown so much that they had to be cut back and away from the roof. I was pretty anxious to have that job done so that the squirrels couldn't make it up there quite so easily.
This was the year my 22 year old livingroom sheers decided to shred in the wash so they had to be replaced. The new ones are gorgeous. And this was the year I finally had parts of my car repainted because the clearcoat was coming off. I only had this work done because I'm keeping the car for another 2 years. Oh yes, I also had the "kill switch" removed from the car and had the cigarette lighter put back in so I could use the GPS I bought last fall.
This was supposed to be the most relaxing summer I've had in many years but it was not to be. It wasn't horrible but it was a lot more work than I'd planned.
As the summer of 2008 comes to a close I'll mostly remember it for all the rain we had. And I will definitely remember it as the year of the squirrels.
I accomplished a lot more necessary work than I'd anticipated but sometimes you just have to deal with what comes your way and that's what I did.
The squirrels in the attic were by far my worst experience with the newly discovered mice a more distant second. The squirrels are gone (fingers crossed) and the mice are on their way (fingers crossed).
I had to have the basement floor relaid after it got damaged by the water that came in the basement last fall and I had to have the bathroom shower retiled when the old tile started falling off. Then the front and back gardens needed reframing but that worked out well because I finally got a stone wall around the front garden. This was also the year to stain the back deck and it looks like new once again.
The trees in the back yard have grown so much that they had to be cut back and away from the roof. I was pretty anxious to have that job done so that the squirrels couldn't make it up there quite so easily.
This was the year my 22 year old livingroom sheers decided to shred in the wash so they had to be replaced. The new ones are gorgeous. And this was the year I finally had parts of my car repainted because the clearcoat was coming off. I only had this work done because I'm keeping the car for another 2 years. Oh yes, I also had the "kill switch" removed from the car and had the cigarette lighter put back in so I could use the GPS I bought last fall.
This was supposed to be the most relaxing summer I've had in many years but it was not to be. It wasn't horrible but it was a lot more work than I'd planned.
As the summer of 2008 comes to a close I'll mostly remember it for all the rain we had. And I will definitely remember it as the year of the squirrels.
Wonder What They're Talking About?
Have you ever noticed a table at the restaurant where a group of elderly ladies sat enthralled or giggling at their private conversation and wondered what they were talking about? Well, my two sisters-in-law and I happened to be those elderly ladies at the restaurant yesterday and I realized that no-one else there would have believed what the topic of our conversation was.
I'm not going to tell you what it was but I guarantee it wasn't about our aches and pains.
I'm not going to tell you what it was but I guarantee it wasn't about our aches and pains.
Monday, August 25, 2008
McDonalds' Employees Handle Your Food With Bare Hands
I was at a local McDonalds restaurant the other day and noticed the people in the kitchen handling buns and cheese slices with their bare hands. I asked the cashier if they were allowed to do that and she said no but they did it anyway. I then asked to speak to the manager. What looked to be a 12 year old girl (LOL!) came over to speak to me and her response to my question was that, yes they were allowed to handle customer's food with their bare hands. I then asked for a head office contact number and was given one.
This morning I phoned the head office and was told that, yes the employees are allowed to handle food without gloves because of "strict" rules about forcing employees to wear plastic gloves. Employees must wash their hands if they change work stations, every 30 minutes, or after bathroom breaks (who's checking?).
I'm fussy about who touches my food and have taken it for granted that all food handlers must wear gloves. If McDonalds allows employees to handle our food bare handed then just think what goes on in other restaurants. I once saw a Burger King employee with filthy fingernails and that put me off Burger King for a long while.
We've become a nation of fast food junkies and, with the recent listeria outbreak, also a nation of potential food poisoning victims. You'd think that more effort would be made by restaurants to contaminate their customers' food as little as possible.
Granted, I handle food with my bare hands but I know where my hands have been.
Update: Just for the record, I was at a Wendy's restaurant today and checked carefully to see if anyone was handling the food with bare hands but none were. I asked one of the employees what their policy was regarding wearing gloves and was told they had to wear them. I think it's safer to eat at Wendy's rather than at McDonalds.
This morning I phoned the head office and was told that, yes the employees are allowed to handle food without gloves because of "strict" rules about forcing employees to wear plastic gloves. Employees must wash their hands if they change work stations, every 30 minutes, or after bathroom breaks (who's checking?).
I'm fussy about who touches my food and have taken it for granted that all food handlers must wear gloves. If McDonalds allows employees to handle our food bare handed then just think what goes on in other restaurants. I once saw a Burger King employee with filthy fingernails and that put me off Burger King for a long while.
We've become a nation of fast food junkies and, with the recent listeria outbreak, also a nation of potential food poisoning victims. You'd think that more effort would be made by restaurants to contaminate their customers' food as little as possible.
Granted, I handle food with my bare hands but I know where my hands have been.
Update: Just for the record, I was at a Wendy's restaurant today and checked carefully to see if anyone was handling the food with bare hands but none were. I asked one of the employees what their policy was regarding wearing gloves and was told they had to wear them. I think it's safer to eat at Wendy's rather than at McDonalds.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Canadian Women Given Right to Vote in 1918
Because I never took advantage of a complete education and because my choice of reading matter is psycho-crime, there's much history that still comes as a surprise to me. The fact that women were not allowed to vote in Canada until 1918 (in Quebec it wasn't until 1940) boggles the mind.
I'm a female and have always known we have to fight harder and longer just to establish basic rights. Men rule the world...today...but it won't always be so and the sooner the better. People of color have been held back because the people in power wanted to hold on to that power as long as they could. The same cruel and unfair laws apply to the way women have been held back.
When I was a young woman I had been brainwashed to firmly believe that women doing the same job as a man should be paid less. My, how times and attitudes have changed. And it was all started by a small group of women somewhere who had begun to think for themselves and realized the total unfairness of society at that time. And they had the courage to speak up and try to change things.
As far as I know, there is only one area that men can excel over women and that is in physical strength. Women carry other strengths, though, and the ultimate one is that we can bear children. There was a freaky story lately about a man who was pregnant but it turned out that the man was actually born a woman who had a sex change. Ewww! We shouldn't be fiddling around too much with nature.
My mother was born in the year that women were given the vote in Canada (except Quebec). I was born in the year that Quebec women were given the right to vote. It all seems archaic that there ever was a time women were so terribly suppressed and it makes me all the prouder of how far women have come in such a relatively short time.
Real men have discovered that women are an asset and deserving of respect. Real women should never settle for less. That's what I've taught my daughters, my granddaughters, and my grandsons.
I'm a female and have always known we have to fight harder and longer just to establish basic rights. Men rule the world...today...but it won't always be so and the sooner the better. People of color have been held back because the people in power wanted to hold on to that power as long as they could. The same cruel and unfair laws apply to the way women have been held back.
When I was a young woman I had been brainwashed to firmly believe that women doing the same job as a man should be paid less. My, how times and attitudes have changed. And it was all started by a small group of women somewhere who had begun to think for themselves and realized the total unfairness of society at that time. And they had the courage to speak up and try to change things.
As far as I know, there is only one area that men can excel over women and that is in physical strength. Women carry other strengths, though, and the ultimate one is that we can bear children. There was a freaky story lately about a man who was pregnant but it turned out that the man was actually born a woman who had a sex change. Ewww! We shouldn't be fiddling around too much with nature.
My mother was born in the year that women were given the vote in Canada (except Quebec). I was born in the year that Quebec women were given the right to vote. It all seems archaic that there ever was a time women were so terribly suppressed and it makes me all the prouder of how far women have come in such a relatively short time.
Real men have discovered that women are an asset and deserving of respect. Real women should never settle for less. That's what I've taught my daughters, my granddaughters, and my grandsons.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Who Pays the OPP?
Natives are demonstrating, picketing, and causing destruction all over Canada but my main concern is with what's happening here in Ontario.
By their own admission, natives have only a 30% employment rate and I doubt the working few pay any income tax because I believe they are legally exempted from doing that. On the other hand, the rest of us continue to build up this country with about a 90%+ employment rate and you can bet your doodads that we are charged a hefty income tax on our earnings.
From these monies is paid a substantial amount to the OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) who have been hired by us, the tax payers of Ontario, to keep us safe and protect our interests. Or so it should be.
In truth we're wasting our tax money because the OPP have chosen to protect the natives instead. What we need is a class action suit filed by the tax paying public against the OPP to collect wages which were paid for work not done. Where's a go-for-the-groin lawyer when you need one!
As a tax payer I want to be able to drive along a publicly funded provincial highway and know that individuals who set fire to it, block it, or toss rocks on it will be severely punished by law. I don't care what their race or color is, if they commit a crime I want them to pay for it. Why aren't my rights upheld?
My great-grandfather lost his business and property during the depression when someone with more money and power bought it up for a song. I drive past the buildings quite often and wonder how quickly I'd be arrested if I laid a claim against the property, barricaded it, staged a sit-in, and demanded it be handed back to me. What's the difference between that and today's natives trying to retrieve property sold by their ancestors not just 80 years ago but 200 years ago?
The logic honestly escapes me.
By their own admission, natives have only a 30% employment rate and I doubt the working few pay any income tax because I believe they are legally exempted from doing that. On the other hand, the rest of us continue to build up this country with about a 90%+ employment rate and you can bet your doodads that we are charged a hefty income tax on our earnings.
From these monies is paid a substantial amount to the OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) who have been hired by us, the tax payers of Ontario, to keep us safe and protect our interests. Or so it should be.
In truth we're wasting our tax money because the OPP have chosen to protect the natives instead. What we need is a class action suit filed by the tax paying public against the OPP to collect wages which were paid for work not done. Where's a go-for-the-groin lawyer when you need one!
As a tax payer I want to be able to drive along a publicly funded provincial highway and know that individuals who set fire to it, block it, or toss rocks on it will be severely punished by law. I don't care what their race or color is, if they commit a crime I want them to pay for it. Why aren't my rights upheld?
My great-grandfather lost his business and property during the depression when someone with more money and power bought it up for a song. I drive past the buildings quite often and wonder how quickly I'd be arrested if I laid a claim against the property, barricaded it, staged a sit-in, and demanded it be handed back to me. What's the difference between that and today's natives trying to retrieve property sold by their ancestors not just 80 years ago but 200 years ago?
The logic honestly escapes me.
Did I Mention I Have Mice?
This has been one hell of a summer. First I was plagued with squirrels living in my attic for the first time ever and had to deal with removing them. Then, as the summer was drawing to an end I discovered shredded toilet paper under the bathroom sink. Oh, oh!
There hasn't been a mouse in my house in over 20 years when a couple got in while the central air conditioner was being installed. My husband caught them and there has been nary a sign of a mouse in all these years...until this month.
I searched under cupboards and drawers and found a few tiny more clues (mouse poop) but then hit the mother lode in the bottom drawer of the bathroom cabinet. Mice had completely shredded 2 bars of soap and pooped all over the drawer. Now I was in a panic because I had to do something to get rid of them but I didn't want to see them.
My sister had a mouse problem a few years ago and used some poison from the States so that's what I purchased. She promised me they'd consume it and disappear and I'm holding her to her promise because I'm not sure I can handle a dead mouse.
I mentioned my new house guests to my neighbors and told them (the men) they'd be called on to dispose of any dead critter that showed up in my house. They're good neighbors and nodded their heads yes even while trying to stifle their laughter.
I've put enough D-Con under cabinets and behind shelving to kill every mouse in the neighborhood so I'll hopefully never have to deal with this again. How the mice got in this time isn't known for sure but my guess is they came in last year when the workmen were here and had the back door propped open while they brought things in and out. I've always worried about that because I've spotted the odd mouse out in the yard.
I'm too old and finicky for this garbage so if my critter problems aren't settled soon I'm going to have to hire another critter remover.
There hasn't been a mouse in my house in over 20 years when a couple got in while the central air conditioner was being installed. My husband caught them and there has been nary a sign of a mouse in all these years...until this month.
I searched under cupboards and drawers and found a few tiny more clues (mouse poop) but then hit the mother lode in the bottom drawer of the bathroom cabinet. Mice had completely shredded 2 bars of soap and pooped all over the drawer. Now I was in a panic because I had to do something to get rid of them but I didn't want to see them.
My sister had a mouse problem a few years ago and used some poison from the States so that's what I purchased. She promised me they'd consume it and disappear and I'm holding her to her promise because I'm not sure I can handle a dead mouse.
I mentioned my new house guests to my neighbors and told them (the men) they'd be called on to dispose of any dead critter that showed up in my house. They're good neighbors and nodded their heads yes even while trying to stifle their laughter.
I've put enough D-Con under cabinets and behind shelving to kill every mouse in the neighborhood so I'll hopefully never have to deal with this again. How the mice got in this time isn't known for sure but my guess is they came in last year when the workmen were here and had the back door propped open while they brought things in and out. I've always worried about that because I've spotted the odd mouse out in the yard.
I'm too old and finicky for this garbage so if my critter problems aren't settled soon I'm going to have to hire another critter remover.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Adoptees/Family Search in Canada
I've been trying without luck to find a website where I can search for my two brothers who were adopted back in the 1940's or 50's. It shouldn't be this difficult, especially with all the resources available on the internet.
What I have found are websites that are no longer active. I'm not very computer literate and this drives me crazy. Why would a government website committed to allowing adoptees and their birth families make contact not have a valid website? If one is no longer in service then there should be a link to one that is.
One of my American readers sent me a website to try and it is also not active but I'm very grateful for any suggestions and will try them all until I find the right one. I've also sent e-mails to supposedly people in charge of adoptees searches but haven't received a reply and don't even know if the e-mail went where it was supposed to go.
My two brothers, Ronald and Gerald Goseit, were born in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada between 1946 and 1948. Their birth parents were Isabel and Walter Goseit. They were put into foster care in 1949 and adopted some time after. If anyone can direct me to the proper website to further my search it would be ever so much appreciated.
People who grow up knowing who their parents and siblings are can't understand the empty feeling we carry when we don't know those basic things. The fact that there is a government agency making it difficult for blood kin to find each other makes me mad.
Maybe it's just my inept handling of the internet but I still think it should be an easier process for me to find my brothers. I've been making attempts on the internet for 5 years now with no results and often wonder if I'm fighting a lost cause.
What I have found are websites that are no longer active. I'm not very computer literate and this drives me crazy. Why would a government website committed to allowing adoptees and their birth families make contact not have a valid website? If one is no longer in service then there should be a link to one that is.
One of my American readers sent me a website to try and it is also not active but I'm very grateful for any suggestions and will try them all until I find the right one. I've also sent e-mails to supposedly people in charge of adoptees searches but haven't received a reply and don't even know if the e-mail went where it was supposed to go.
My two brothers, Ronald and Gerald Goseit, were born in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada between 1946 and 1948. Their birth parents were Isabel and Walter Goseit. They were put into foster care in 1949 and adopted some time after. If anyone can direct me to the proper website to further my search it would be ever so much appreciated.
People who grow up knowing who their parents and siblings are can't understand the empty feeling we carry when we don't know those basic things. The fact that there is a government agency making it difficult for blood kin to find each other makes me mad.
Maybe it's just my inept handling of the internet but I still think it should be an easier process for me to find my brothers. I've been making attempts on the internet for 5 years now with no results and often wonder if I'm fighting a lost cause.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Free Night at the Casino
My friend, Mary, gambles a bit more than I do and she was the happy recipient of a free night at the Fallsview Casino Hotel in Niagara Falls. These rooms are gorgeous with a beautiful view of the falls and in our room this year we had a view of both falls. They normally rent for around $200 per night so the only way I'll ever get to sleep in one is if we get one for free.
Mary picked me up around 10:30 A.M. and we drove off to enjoy our little mini vacation. Arriving at the casino, we got in line at the ticket office for a short wait to receive our complimentary stage show tickets. This was another great giveaway by the casino. Mary also had 2 free dinner tickets so we headed for the buffet line inside the casino. These giveaways are really excellent and it makes losing your money on the slots a lot easier to take.
After a wonderful buffet lunch that would actually be our big meal for the day, we decided to try out luck at the slots. Mary and I always go our separate ways with plans to meet again in a couple of hours.
I have this theory that a few slot machines are programmed to pay off better than the average ones so I travel around the casino a lot looking for that lucky machine. Unfortunately, I didn't find it within the first couple of hours.
At 3 P.M. we got our room key (shaped like a deck card) and moved into our room on the 22nd floor. They are beautiful, as I said, but we both agreed the choice of colors for the bed spreads could have been better. The view from the huge window was breathtaking and we were able to see both falls. What a glorious sight to see one of the seven wonders of the world from this vantage point. I guess I have a bit too much humility at times because when I'm in exceptional circumstances like this I can't help but wonder how I got so lucky. Considering my poor beginnings, why do I deserve to have landed here? My mother and grandmother worked much harder than I've ever worked in my life and they couldn't even imagine living like I do. I know...life isn't fair to everyone. Anyway, I always appreciate my blessings even if it comes with a touch of undeservedness.
Then we were off to the casino again with plans to meet at 6 P.M. for supper. Neither of us was hungry but we knew we could eat if faced with food. By 6, I still hadn't found that elusive lucky machine and had lost almost all my money. As expected, we were able to stuff a tiny bit more food into our tummies but this time it was at the Tim Horton's concession.
After supper, I took the meagre remains of my gambling money and tried a few more slot machines until I hit the lucky one. There I stayed until it was time to meet for the stage show. Wouldn't you know I'd find that damned lucky machine and then have to leave it!
The show was wonderful. Full orchestra and some of the best singers I've ever heard singing all the tunes from the 60's, 70's, and 80's. I really don't know how the casino can afford to give all these tickets away because they don't make enough from me even though I lose every time I'm there.
After the show we gambled some more but this time decided to meet back at the room whenever we were finished. I couldn't find my lucky machine but did find one like it and damned if it wasn't a lucky one, too. It held my interest until 1 A.M. when my sore butt made me give up on gambling and go to bed. Mary had made it back to the room just before me so we watched T.V. for about half an hour before calling it quits for the day.
The next morning we packed up and moved out but we weren't finished with our little vacation yet. We headed for the U.S. side of the falls to do some shopping. I don't care what anyone says, the prices in the States are far better than what we pay here in Canada where we're being gouged in every store. I bought a beautiful pair of Naturalizer sandals for $30 in a store that was filled with bargains like that.
By mid afternoon we were ready to go home. Mary and I have a very comfortable relationship so even though we'd spent so much time together we continued to yak and laugh right up until she dropped me off at my house. That comes from being old time friends, I guess, because we have a lot of history together.
It was so nice to get back to my quiet little house and settle into my real life. I loved the casino, the room, and the show but it's always great to come back home.
I took my mail out of the mailbox and found a letter from Fallsview Casino with a complimentary $40 meal voucher inside. It's good for most of September so I guess I have to go back.
Mary picked me up around 10:30 A.M. and we drove off to enjoy our little mini vacation. Arriving at the casino, we got in line at the ticket office for a short wait to receive our complimentary stage show tickets. This was another great giveaway by the casino. Mary also had 2 free dinner tickets so we headed for the buffet line inside the casino. These giveaways are really excellent and it makes losing your money on the slots a lot easier to take.
After a wonderful buffet lunch that would actually be our big meal for the day, we decided to try out luck at the slots. Mary and I always go our separate ways with plans to meet again in a couple of hours.
I have this theory that a few slot machines are programmed to pay off better than the average ones so I travel around the casino a lot looking for that lucky machine. Unfortunately, I didn't find it within the first couple of hours.
At 3 P.M. we got our room key (shaped like a deck card) and moved into our room on the 22nd floor. They are beautiful, as I said, but we both agreed the choice of colors for the bed spreads could have been better. The view from the huge window was breathtaking and we were able to see both falls. What a glorious sight to see one of the seven wonders of the world from this vantage point. I guess I have a bit too much humility at times because when I'm in exceptional circumstances like this I can't help but wonder how I got so lucky. Considering my poor beginnings, why do I deserve to have landed here? My mother and grandmother worked much harder than I've ever worked in my life and they couldn't even imagine living like I do. I know...life isn't fair to everyone. Anyway, I always appreciate my blessings even if it comes with a touch of undeservedness.
Then we were off to the casino again with plans to meet at 6 P.M. for supper. Neither of us was hungry but we knew we could eat if faced with food. By 6, I still hadn't found that elusive lucky machine and had lost almost all my money. As expected, we were able to stuff a tiny bit more food into our tummies but this time it was at the Tim Horton's concession.
After supper, I took the meagre remains of my gambling money and tried a few more slot machines until I hit the lucky one. There I stayed until it was time to meet for the stage show. Wouldn't you know I'd find that damned lucky machine and then have to leave it!
The show was wonderful. Full orchestra and some of the best singers I've ever heard singing all the tunes from the 60's, 70's, and 80's. I really don't know how the casino can afford to give all these tickets away because they don't make enough from me even though I lose every time I'm there.
After the show we gambled some more but this time decided to meet back at the room whenever we were finished. I couldn't find my lucky machine but did find one like it and damned if it wasn't a lucky one, too. It held my interest until 1 A.M. when my sore butt made me give up on gambling and go to bed. Mary had made it back to the room just before me so we watched T.V. for about half an hour before calling it quits for the day.
The next morning we packed up and moved out but we weren't finished with our little vacation yet. We headed for the U.S. side of the falls to do some shopping. I don't care what anyone says, the prices in the States are far better than what we pay here in Canada where we're being gouged in every store. I bought a beautiful pair of Naturalizer sandals for $30 in a store that was filled with bargains like that.
By mid afternoon we were ready to go home. Mary and I have a very comfortable relationship so even though we'd spent so much time together we continued to yak and laugh right up until she dropped me off at my house. That comes from being old time friends, I guess, because we have a lot of history together.
It was so nice to get back to my quiet little house and settle into my real life. I loved the casino, the room, and the show but it's always great to come back home.
I took my mail out of the mailbox and found a letter from Fallsview Casino with a complimentary $40 meal voucher inside. It's good for most of September so I guess I have to go back.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Coincidence
On August 28, 1968, my husband and I bought our first house. It's the house I still live in till this day. It was so exciting, having a home that was ours...and the bank's. I'd always thought of home ownership as the best security we can build for ourselves and I still believe that.
On August 28, 2008, my eldest grandson takes possession of his very first home and I'm tickled to think of the coincidence...exactly 40 years after his Grampa and I bought our home.
In 1968 my husband was earning about $8,000 a year and our house cost $19,000. I think the ratio of earnings to the cost of a house these days might be a little worse but for us in 1968 it was frightening to owe so much money. Even with the fear of so much debt I had no doubt we were making the right decision to buy.
We bought a 15 year old house that needed a lot of updating and my husband spent the rest of his life prettying it up for me. If left on his own, not only wouldn't one thing have been changed but he wouldn't even have bought a house. It's us women that are the nest builders, or maybe I should say nest planners.
We tore down walls, put in new bathrooms and kitchen, repainted many times, built a deck out back, and put new steps in the front. We built a rec room where only a basement stood before. We put in new front and back doors and even new basement steps. Owning a house means forever updating but I loved the anticipation of improvement. My husband wasn't so enthusiastic.
I've spent a large portion of my lifetime building and rebuilding my nest knowing that one day I'd have to leave it and move on. I'm still working on my five year plan, though, and very happy where I am. When the time comes for me to sell this house I hope the new owners will let me come back and see how they changed it. There'll be no resentment or disappointment on my part.
I'm so happy for my grandson and his wife who are soon to be homeowners. It's a moment they'll never forget.
On August 28, 2008, my eldest grandson takes possession of his very first home and I'm tickled to think of the coincidence...exactly 40 years after his Grampa and I bought our home.
In 1968 my husband was earning about $8,000 a year and our house cost $19,000. I think the ratio of earnings to the cost of a house these days might be a little worse but for us in 1968 it was frightening to owe so much money. Even with the fear of so much debt I had no doubt we were making the right decision to buy.
We bought a 15 year old house that needed a lot of updating and my husband spent the rest of his life prettying it up for me. If left on his own, not only wouldn't one thing have been changed but he wouldn't even have bought a house. It's us women that are the nest builders, or maybe I should say nest planners.
We tore down walls, put in new bathrooms and kitchen, repainted many times, built a deck out back, and put new steps in the front. We built a rec room where only a basement stood before. We put in new front and back doors and even new basement steps. Owning a house means forever updating but I loved the anticipation of improvement. My husband wasn't so enthusiastic.
I've spent a large portion of my lifetime building and rebuilding my nest knowing that one day I'd have to leave it and move on. I'm still working on my five year plan, though, and very happy where I am. When the time comes for me to sell this house I hope the new owners will let me come back and see how they changed it. There'll be no resentment or disappointment on my part.
I'm so happy for my grandson and his wife who are soon to be homeowners. It's a moment they'll never forget.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Good Grandsons, Good Family
I'm always harping on the absolute necessity of building strong family ties because that's what life is all about. In one of my previous blogs my daughter left a message letting me know she needed me but it's very obvious that we need each other.
Tomorrow my two oldest grandsons are coming to my house to lift heavy bags of soil out of my car trunk and then distribute the soil into the front garden bed. I'm hoping the new soil in the garden will have sunk all it's going to and this last batch of soil will be all that is needed. Since I haven't got the strength to even budge the bags, it's nice to have my wonderful, brawny grandsons willing to do this for me.
Just recently my son-in-law, who works at least 12 hour days, found the time to do some necessary electrical work for my daughter, his sister-in-law. It's indicative of the close family we have. It's family we should be able to turn to first when we're in need of anything. I know all families aren't as reliable as mine and I don't take my good fortune for granted.
The boys will be here at noon and it won't take them long to complete the job. When they're finished I'll take them out for lunch and get to enjoy the pleasure of their company a little longer. We love each other and we know it. Aren't we lucky?
Tomorrow my two oldest grandsons are coming to my house to lift heavy bags of soil out of my car trunk and then distribute the soil into the front garden bed. I'm hoping the new soil in the garden will have sunk all it's going to and this last batch of soil will be all that is needed. Since I haven't got the strength to even budge the bags, it's nice to have my wonderful, brawny grandsons willing to do this for me.
Just recently my son-in-law, who works at least 12 hour days, found the time to do some necessary electrical work for my daughter, his sister-in-law. It's indicative of the close family we have. It's family we should be able to turn to first when we're in need of anything. I know all families aren't as reliable as mine and I don't take my good fortune for granted.
The boys will be here at noon and it won't take them long to complete the job. When they're finished I'll take them out for lunch and get to enjoy the pleasure of their company a little longer. We love each other and we know it. Aren't we lucky?
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Searching For Adopted Siblings
I've been doing some research on how to find out any information on my two brothers who were placed in foster care way back in 1949. Up until fairly recently it was extremely difficult to gather information from adoption records but civil rights groups pounded away until we finally saw some light at the end of the tunnel.
I never did understand why a government agency could hold the power of keeping birth parents and birth siblings from finding the adoptee and vice versa. It only makes sense that the screen should be lifted if both sides want contact.
My mother was in an abusive marriage back in 1949 when she left her husband. She was then pregnant with my sister and had to rely on the kindness of her aging parents to take her in. We were very poor and there were 5 of us living in 2 rooms so the two little boys had to be placed in foster care. In time, I believe the boys were placed for adoption, hopefully to the same family.
I have applied for "adoption disclosure" from adoption.disclosure@css.gov.on.ca and am presently waiting to hear from them. This is the agency to contact if you want info on adoptions in Ontario, Canada.
Besides wanting to make contact with my blood kin, I also want them to know the truth about why they were given up for adoption. My mother loved them dearly but life dealt her some terrible blows and she had no choice in the matter. My grandparents did all they could by taking my sister and me in and raising us. With limited space and limited finances, I believe it would have been impossible for them or my mother to keep the boys. My stepfather is another matter but he's passed away and has faced the consequences of his actions by now.
If and when I receive any information I'll be sure to blog it.
Update: Received my e-mail back as undeliverable. I'll have to check further and see if the website I used was an outdated one.
I never did understand why a government agency could hold the power of keeping birth parents and birth siblings from finding the adoptee and vice versa. It only makes sense that the screen should be lifted if both sides want contact.
My mother was in an abusive marriage back in 1949 when she left her husband. She was then pregnant with my sister and had to rely on the kindness of her aging parents to take her in. We were very poor and there were 5 of us living in 2 rooms so the two little boys had to be placed in foster care. In time, I believe the boys were placed for adoption, hopefully to the same family.
I have applied for "adoption disclosure" from adoption.disclosure@css.gov.on.ca and am presently waiting to hear from them. This is the agency to contact if you want info on adoptions in Ontario, Canada.
Besides wanting to make contact with my blood kin, I also want them to know the truth about why they were given up for adoption. My mother loved them dearly but life dealt her some terrible blows and she had no choice in the matter. My grandparents did all they could by taking my sister and me in and raising us. With limited space and limited finances, I believe it would have been impossible for them or my mother to keep the boys. My stepfather is another matter but he's passed away and has faced the consequences of his actions by now.
If and when I receive any information I'll be sure to blog it.
Update: Received my e-mail back as undeliverable. I'll have to check further and see if the website I used was an outdated one.
Being Useful
My daughter has been having some work done on her house and needed me to be there for the workmen because she has a job. I get the feeling she thinks she's imposing on me by taking up some of my days but that couldn't be farther from the truth. I like being useful.
One of the things I've noticed in my life is that people have a driving need to be needed. It's not that any number of other people couldn't accomplish the same purpose but we like the idea that it's us, not them, that has been chosen to make someone else's life a little easier.
There is a fine line between being needed and being used, though, and that's why we tread carefully when asking for favors. With my children, I don't even have to think twice about whether or not they're just using me. It isn't in their nature.
I've had friends who surprised me by crossing that invisible line too many times and it's one that can only be tolerated up to a point. One incident too many and the friendship falls away. Luckily, it's seldom happened so I guess I've mainly made good choices in friends.
I have terrific neighbors (both here and in Florida) who offer to help me every way possible but I take care to only accept their help when it's something I just am unable to do myself. I also make every effort to not take advantage of their generosity too often. Like I said, it's a fine line and we need to be aware of it constantly.
So tomorrow I'll spend the day at my daughter's house while she has a new furnace and air conditioner installed. Poor me...I'll have to play with the dogs, watch my shows on T.V., and raid her well stocked refrigerator. I'll feel very useful.
One of the things I've noticed in my life is that people have a driving need to be needed. It's not that any number of other people couldn't accomplish the same purpose but we like the idea that it's us, not them, that has been chosen to make someone else's life a little easier.
There is a fine line between being needed and being used, though, and that's why we tread carefully when asking for favors. With my children, I don't even have to think twice about whether or not they're just using me. It isn't in their nature.
I've had friends who surprised me by crossing that invisible line too many times and it's one that can only be tolerated up to a point. One incident too many and the friendship falls away. Luckily, it's seldom happened so I guess I've mainly made good choices in friends.
I have terrific neighbors (both here and in Florida) who offer to help me every way possible but I take care to only accept their help when it's something I just am unable to do myself. I also make every effort to not take advantage of their generosity too often. Like I said, it's a fine line and we need to be aware of it constantly.
So tomorrow I'll spend the day at my daughter's house while she has a new furnace and air conditioner installed. Poor me...I'll have to play with the dogs, watch my shows on T.V., and raid her well stocked refrigerator. I'll feel very useful.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
The Young Have No Idea
I've never heard any other people my age express the same sentiments I feel when watching seemingly carefree teenagers. They really have no idea what lay ahead and I can't help but feel sympathy for them.
For most of their adult lives they'll take the good times for granted and not treasure them as they should. They'll often make the mistake of believing the good times will last forever but they won't.
I saw a group of teenage girls today and marvelled at their beauty and what I took to be innocence. Having been there and done that I knew they'd be ill prepared for the sad times to come because it's not something we can plan for.
This is life. I wish only happiness and pleasure was what we could all expect but that's never, ever the case. There will be illness, death, and broken hearts along the way.
If I could preach a sermon about how to get the most out of the lifetime allotted to them I would tell them to always surround themselves with good friends. I would tell them to show their love for their family. Then I would stress how important it is to develop a kind nature (this comes from developing tolerance). But most of all, I would tell them to love themselves and never let anyone disrespect them. I'm still working on a few of those traits myself.
I look on the life I've led as an experience. I can say with confidence that old age has been easier to handle than my younger years were but that's just me. I hope those young ladies have an easier time of it. My heart goes out to them, though.
I don't want this to be a blog about the misery of life but of how I believe I could have done it better. It took me way too long to even begin to find my way and my wish for those girls is that they discover the path early.
For most of their adult lives they'll take the good times for granted and not treasure them as they should. They'll often make the mistake of believing the good times will last forever but they won't.
I saw a group of teenage girls today and marvelled at their beauty and what I took to be innocence. Having been there and done that I knew they'd be ill prepared for the sad times to come because it's not something we can plan for.
This is life. I wish only happiness and pleasure was what we could all expect but that's never, ever the case. There will be illness, death, and broken hearts along the way.
If I could preach a sermon about how to get the most out of the lifetime allotted to them I would tell them to always surround themselves with good friends. I would tell them to show their love for their family. Then I would stress how important it is to develop a kind nature (this comes from developing tolerance). But most of all, I would tell them to love themselves and never let anyone disrespect them. I'm still working on a few of those traits myself.
I look on the life I've led as an experience. I can say with confidence that old age has been easier to handle than my younger years were but that's just me. I hope those young ladies have an easier time of it. My heart goes out to them, though.
I don't want this to be a blog about the misery of life but of how I believe I could have done it better. It took me way too long to even begin to find my way and my wish for those girls is that they discover the path early.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Light Deprivation Disorder
It seems I've always been affected by a prolonged lack of sunshine and that's why I thrive in the Florida sunshine all winter. Canada is notorious for constant grey and dreary days from November till March. The odd sunny day makes the world so bright and beautiful, despite the cold, but they are few and far between.
Psychologically, I've tried to determine why I feel so miserable when faced with as little as two days without seeing the sun. I wonder if it's some deep down fear that maybe the sun will never shine again...we make jokes about that happening, don't we? I find myself searching the skies for any sign the cloud cover is breaking up and then I glory in the sight of cracks of blue showing through the grey.
Years ago I used to go to a mall and shop away the day when the skies remained overcast for too long. These days I've grown to dislike shopping unless I'm with a group of friends and then the shopping is just an excuse for socializing. Yesterday I whined to my daughter until she took me to the casino where we spent all afternoon. She lost a lot and I lost just a little for a change. I found one of the lucky machines that was paying well.
Speaking of which...I believe that some machines at the casino, changed often, are programmed to pay better odds than the others. I don't for one second believe my lucky machine from yesterday will be a lucky one when I return to that casino but, like a lemming, I'll head straight for it the next time I'm there. Logically, how can I be so knowledgeable and yet go against what I know is true?
Back to light deprivation. I know that we on earth, humans and vegetation alike, would all die without the sun. It gives us life. Maybe the people who become so depressed when deprived of sunshine for extended periods are people who carry stronger primitive memories of our beginnings. Man-made light is a poor replacement for the real thing.
This morning the sun is unsuccessfully trying to push it's way through the overcast sky but the forecast is for more rain. My little ray of sunshine is that I should be getting my car back this morning and then I'll be meeting my sister for coffee this afternoon. Sigh!
Psychologically, I've tried to determine why I feel so miserable when faced with as little as two days without seeing the sun. I wonder if it's some deep down fear that maybe the sun will never shine again...we make jokes about that happening, don't we? I find myself searching the skies for any sign the cloud cover is breaking up and then I glory in the sight of cracks of blue showing through the grey.
Years ago I used to go to a mall and shop away the day when the skies remained overcast for too long. These days I've grown to dislike shopping unless I'm with a group of friends and then the shopping is just an excuse for socializing. Yesterday I whined to my daughter until she took me to the casino where we spent all afternoon. She lost a lot and I lost just a little for a change. I found one of the lucky machines that was paying well.
Speaking of which...I believe that some machines at the casino, changed often, are programmed to pay better odds than the others. I don't for one second believe my lucky machine from yesterday will be a lucky one when I return to that casino but, like a lemming, I'll head straight for it the next time I'm there. Logically, how can I be so knowledgeable and yet go against what I know is true?
Back to light deprivation. I know that we on earth, humans and vegetation alike, would all die without the sun. It gives us life. Maybe the people who become so depressed when deprived of sunshine for extended periods are people who carry stronger primitive memories of our beginnings. Man-made light is a poor replacement for the real thing.
This morning the sun is unsuccessfully trying to push it's way through the overcast sky but the forecast is for more rain. My little ray of sunshine is that I should be getting my car back this morning and then I'll be meeting my sister for coffee this afternoon. Sigh!
Saturday, August 09, 2008
I'm Bored
All it took was the loss of my car for a couple of days and I'm like a fish out of water. Granted, there's a lot of housework that could be done while I'm housebound but that's not fun. The truth is that I like the idea of my car sitting outside just waiting for wanderlust to hit me. Then I could drop whatever I was doing, grab my purse and car keys and head out the door.
Now I'm stuck until some time tomorrow morning when my little treasure will be released to me, freshly painted. I even conned my daughter into taking me out for dinner tonight just so I can get out of the house. If I wasn't so lazy I could go for a nice long walk because, even though rain is in the forecast again, right now it's warm and dry out.
I think my antsy feeling is a combination of not having my car available and the ever present threat of rain we've had all spring and summer. I'm one of those people who needs lots of sunshine to keep myself even spirited.
Waking up to a dreary, drizzly day makes me want to go back to bed but a sunshiny day gives me energy so it's on gorgeous, sunny days that I get the most work done. This never made any sense to me because crappy days should be utilized for getting odd jobs cleared away. But that's the way it is, like it or not.
Well, my daughter just phoned me and I told her my sad, sad story so she's offered to take me to the casino. My misery is corrupting both of us.
Now I'm stuck until some time tomorrow morning when my little treasure will be released to me, freshly painted. I even conned my daughter into taking me out for dinner tonight just so I can get out of the house. If I wasn't so lazy I could go for a nice long walk because, even though rain is in the forecast again, right now it's warm and dry out.
I think my antsy feeling is a combination of not having my car available and the ever present threat of rain we've had all spring and summer. I'm one of those people who needs lots of sunshine to keep myself even spirited.
Waking up to a dreary, drizzly day makes me want to go back to bed but a sunshiny day gives me energy so it's on gorgeous, sunny days that I get the most work done. This never made any sense to me because crappy days should be utilized for getting odd jobs cleared away. But that's the way it is, like it or not.
Well, my daughter just phoned me and I told her my sad, sad story so she's offered to take me to the casino. My misery is corrupting both of us.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Getting the Car Painted
I drive a 2001 Honda Accord and have been in love with that car since the first time I laid eyes on it. We bought it in the fall of 2002 so it had probably been on the road for 2 years by then and it had been in an accident but we weren't told this.
So far I've had almost 6 years of relatively worry free driving with this car but, since I drive down to Florida in the winter, I was a little worried I was taking too much of a chance with a car of this age. My plan was to trade it in next year but everyone has been telling me a Honda is good for 10 years and more so I'd be crazy to get rid of it. Well, they convinced me and I'm going to keep it for at least 2 more years.
Last year I had the hood repainted because a large patch of clearcoat had disintegrated right in front of the window. The man who painted the car said there had been a deep pocket of Bondo in that spot and he thinks it might have had a rock dropped on it before I bought the car. In any case, he did an excellent job of repainting and matched the color perfectly.
I'm not sure why but some more smaller patches of clearcoat had begun to come off and my sweet little car was sort of looking like it had a skin problem. Because this didn't affect the mechanics of the car and the fact that I'd planned on trading it in next year, I had decided against having those spots repainted until just recently. Today my little car is in the shop to have it's blemishes repaired and repainted.
I feel stranded without my reliable little car sitting in the driveway and waiting to take me wherever my whims direct. It's hard to believe that I relied on my husband or public transport until I was the ripe old age of 44. That's when I finally got my driver's licence and my own car for the first time in my life. The exhilarating rush of liberation has never left me and I still feel a little giddy with happiness when I step out the door and see MY car waiting for me. The feeling of gratitude lingers as I turn the key and the motor catches immediately. Good car!
I might not get my car back until Sunday but when she comes home she'll be so beautiful!
So far I've had almost 6 years of relatively worry free driving with this car but, since I drive down to Florida in the winter, I was a little worried I was taking too much of a chance with a car of this age. My plan was to trade it in next year but everyone has been telling me a Honda is good for 10 years and more so I'd be crazy to get rid of it. Well, they convinced me and I'm going to keep it for at least 2 more years.
Last year I had the hood repainted because a large patch of clearcoat had disintegrated right in front of the window. The man who painted the car said there had been a deep pocket of Bondo in that spot and he thinks it might have had a rock dropped on it before I bought the car. In any case, he did an excellent job of repainting and matched the color perfectly.
I'm not sure why but some more smaller patches of clearcoat had begun to come off and my sweet little car was sort of looking like it had a skin problem. Because this didn't affect the mechanics of the car and the fact that I'd planned on trading it in next year, I had decided against having those spots repainted until just recently. Today my little car is in the shop to have it's blemishes repaired and repainted.
I feel stranded without my reliable little car sitting in the driveway and waiting to take me wherever my whims direct. It's hard to believe that I relied on my husband or public transport until I was the ripe old age of 44. That's when I finally got my driver's licence and my own car for the first time in my life. The exhilarating rush of liberation has never left me and I still feel a little giddy with happiness when I step out the door and see MY car waiting for me. The feeling of gratitude lingers as I turn the key and the motor catches immediately. Good car!
I might not get my car back until Sunday but when she comes home she'll be so beautiful!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Looking For Mr. Bill Riskin
My family knows the story but I just thought that maybe someone who reads this blog might have some answers for me.
I was born to an unwed mother in 1940 and have never met my father. I was told his name was Bill (William) Riskin and, since the name always sounded Jewish to me, I've had this inner hope I might be part Jewish.
I've always felt set apart from the family that raised me...mother and grandmother. I look like them but I'm very different inside so maybe I take after that illusive father of mine.
The fact that he took off like a thief in the night when he found out my mother was pregnant hasn't endeared me to him. The fact that he's never tried to contact me (his blood kin, the child of his loins) leads me to believe he is of poor character.
Still, just once in a while, I wonder about him.
Anyone out there ever hear of a man named Bill Riskin who was probably born sometime close to 1918? Just think, I probably have oodles of relatives out there who don't know I exist. But one day back in November of 1939, a little seed was planted and here I am. Thank you for your contribution, Bill.
I was born to an unwed mother in 1940 and have never met my father. I was told his name was Bill (William) Riskin and, since the name always sounded Jewish to me, I've had this inner hope I might be part Jewish.
I've always felt set apart from the family that raised me...mother and grandmother. I look like them but I'm very different inside so maybe I take after that illusive father of mine.
The fact that he took off like a thief in the night when he found out my mother was pregnant hasn't endeared me to him. The fact that he's never tried to contact me (his blood kin, the child of his loins) leads me to believe he is of poor character.
Still, just once in a while, I wonder about him.
Anyone out there ever hear of a man named Bill Riskin who was probably born sometime close to 1918? Just think, I probably have oodles of relatives out there who don't know I exist. But one day back in November of 1939, a little seed was planted and here I am. Thank you for your contribution, Bill.
Rain...Again!
We've had so much rain this summer that I check the weather station regularly to see when I can cut the lawn. The lawn would still have looked good for another couple of days but the forecast was for rain every day for the next week so, at 7:30 last night I decided I had to pull out the lawn mower.
It usually takes me about an hour to cut both front and back lawns because I have a unique way of doing it. I push the lawn mower forward, back, and forward again before moving on. I really think I have a need to do this because the lawnmower blades haven't been sharpened in at least 4 years now, and that's only if my husband did it the summer before he passed away.
I know the blades need sharpening and I know where to take them but I can't lift that mower into the trunk of my car by myself. There are any number of willing helpers to do it for me but the only time I think of it is when I'm cutting the grass. It's my own fault if one day I have to cut the grass with a pair of scissors.
In any case, it was almost dark by the time I got the grass cut last night and then I had to roll up the extension cord and hang it in the tool shed. It was very dark in the shed, there was a huge unidentifiable spider hanging near the door, and I missed the nail. The cord was left laying partly on the floor until daylight...dry daylight.
I'm thinking that might be one day a week down the line.
It usually takes me about an hour to cut both front and back lawns because I have a unique way of doing it. I push the lawn mower forward, back, and forward again before moving on. I really think I have a need to do this because the lawnmower blades haven't been sharpened in at least 4 years now, and that's only if my husband did it the summer before he passed away.
I know the blades need sharpening and I know where to take them but I can't lift that mower into the trunk of my car by myself. There are any number of willing helpers to do it for me but the only time I think of it is when I'm cutting the grass. It's my own fault if one day I have to cut the grass with a pair of scissors.
In any case, it was almost dark by the time I got the grass cut last night and then I had to roll up the extension cord and hang it in the tool shed. It was very dark in the shed, there was a huge unidentifiable spider hanging near the door, and I missed the nail. The cord was left laying partly on the floor until daylight...dry daylight.
I'm thinking that might be one day a week down the line.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
More on Mama Mia
I love the internet. Anything and everything I'd like to research is at my fingertips. One of the actresses in "Mama Mia" looked so familiar to me and I thought she might have acted in "Educating Rita" so, first I keyed in Mama Mia to find out her name and found out it was Julie Walters, and then I keyed in her name to find out what she'd acted in. She had been the star of "Educating Rita" and if you haven't seen that movie, please do. She was also in the Harry Potter movies.
I would actually pay to see "Mama Mia" again and that should tell you how much I enjoyed it.
I would actually pay to see "Mama Mia" again and that should tell you how much I enjoyed it.
Mama Mia
Yesterday was my 68th birthday and we celebrated by my 2 oldest daughters taking me out for dinner and then to see the movie, "Mama Mia".
My butt was still sore from sitting for many hours on wooden benches at the Collingwood Elvis Festival and I also have difficulty sitting through a long movie without dozing off. You can see I was a little nervous about sitting through this particular movie. But I didn't need to worry because the movie was excellent.
Meryl Streep has always been one of my favorite actresses but I had no idea she could sing like an angel and I'm still amazed at her physical condition. She ran, she leapt, she did the splits...isn't she closing in on 60???
Not for one moment did I get antsy or sleepy because the movie was heartwarming and the music was a delight to the ears. It was so interesting to see how the songs of ABBA were woven into a story, albeit a fantasy of sorts.
Meryl Streep and her two friends (sorry I don't know their names but their faces were familiar) were in an aging actresses' dream role. They were beautiful, funny, and talented without trying to appear they were still in their 20's. They played their roles with grace and humor.
My youngest daughter had said she cried all the way through but we didn't. There were emotional moments but I was too enthralled with the expressions on Meryl's face and her outstanding acting ability. She is simply fabulous.
My girls and I finished off the evening with a Tim Horton's coffee and met a couple of other relatives there. Some day we're going to discover that Tim Horton's coffee contains a powerful drug we're all addicted to and it won't be just the caffeine.
Thank you, my girls, for a lovely 68th birthday!
My butt was still sore from sitting for many hours on wooden benches at the Collingwood Elvis Festival and I also have difficulty sitting through a long movie without dozing off. You can see I was a little nervous about sitting through this particular movie. But I didn't need to worry because the movie was excellent.
Meryl Streep has always been one of my favorite actresses but I had no idea she could sing like an angel and I'm still amazed at her physical condition. She ran, she leapt, she did the splits...isn't she closing in on 60???
Not for one moment did I get antsy or sleepy because the movie was heartwarming and the music was a delight to the ears. It was so interesting to see how the songs of ABBA were woven into a story, albeit a fantasy of sorts.
Meryl Streep and her two friends (sorry I don't know their names but their faces were familiar) were in an aging actresses' dream role. They were beautiful, funny, and talented without trying to appear they were still in their 20's. They played their roles with grace and humor.
My youngest daughter had said she cried all the way through but we didn't. There were emotional moments but I was too enthralled with the expressions on Meryl's face and her outstanding acting ability. She is simply fabulous.
My girls and I finished off the evening with a Tim Horton's coffee and met a couple of other relatives there. Some day we're going to discover that Tim Horton's coffee contains a powerful drug we're all addicted to and it won't be just the caffeine.
Thank you, my girls, for a lovely 68th birthday!
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
More on the Greyhound Killing
The person who committed this gruesome murder was a 40 year old man who had immigrated from China in 2004 and apparently sponsored by a local church. Everyone is saying there was no history of mental illness but how much information would be forthcoming from China about the 36 years that man lived there?
A few of his neighbors and co-workers thought he had mental problems but his church is claiming otherwise. If they are the ones who sponsored this man to immigrate to Canada without completely checking his background then they, the church, should be held liable for his actions.
Li held only menial jobs so why was he given the gift of residing in Canada? There is much more to this than meets the eye and I hope the press will find out the facts of his immigration into this country.
Our immigration laws are laughable. An educated, honorable person must wait years or possibly forever to live here but a man whose capabilities seem to be delivering newspapers is welcomed in. There is no sense or reason to this.
Getting into Canada isn't a matter of what you know but who you know and that is simply wrong.
A few of his neighbors and co-workers thought he had mental problems but his church is claiming otherwise. If they are the ones who sponsored this man to immigrate to Canada without completely checking his background then they, the church, should be held liable for his actions.
Li held only menial jobs so why was he given the gift of residing in Canada? There is much more to this than meets the eye and I hope the press will find out the facts of his immigration into this country.
Our immigration laws are laughable. An educated, honorable person must wait years or possibly forever to live here but a man whose capabilities seem to be delivering newspapers is welcomed in. There is no sense or reason to this.
Getting into Canada isn't a matter of what you know but who you know and that is simply wrong.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
My GPS
I got my GPS last year and am just learning how to use it now. At my age, this is a major accomplishment because I have always been mechanically and electronically challenged.
When I visited my daughter in Virginia, near Washington, in the spring I had to use her GPS when my friend, Mary, my granddaughter, Lisette, and I got off the Metro and had to find our way home. It terrified me. When it said, "Turn right", I turned without understanding that the voice didn't want me to turn immediately. We ended up driving almost into Washington on the expressway before I was able to find an off ramp. Shelley's GPS speaks in a haughty British accent and kept nagging me constantly with, "Recalculating. Take the next exit to your right". The problem was there was a wall between me and the lanes which could exit. The nag didn't take the hint when I told her to bugger off.
Then Kim and I drove to Washington a few weeks ago and I sort of got used to "Betty" (as Kim calls her GPS). Kim did all the driving and instructed me on how the GPS worked so that I could relax and learn. This helped a lot.
Today I ventured out in the city I'm very familiar with and attempted to learn the idiosyncrasies of my "Betty Boop". I apparently have the cheap model because mine has no neat British accent, just a plain old Canadian one. Mine doesn't chill me with the words, "Recalculating", when I take a wrong turn or just decide to take a different route than she wants me to take. She simply accepts the change and deals with it. I like this much better.
My "Betty Boop" isn't very smart. She pronounces the names of streets in a really odd way which makes it difficult for me to understand. For instance, she wanted me to turn at Joneston Rd. and she pronounced it jon-ess-ton. Then when I approached Kenora she pronounced it kenerra. Coming up the Claremont Access, "Betty Boop" referred to it as the Claremont A.C.C. This will take some getting used to, I guess. I need it mainly for the highway, anyhow.
I hope she doesn't pronounce "highway" as hig-h-way.
When I visited my daughter in Virginia, near Washington, in the spring I had to use her GPS when my friend, Mary, my granddaughter, Lisette, and I got off the Metro and had to find our way home. It terrified me. When it said, "Turn right", I turned without understanding that the voice didn't want me to turn immediately. We ended up driving almost into Washington on the expressway before I was able to find an off ramp. Shelley's GPS speaks in a haughty British accent and kept nagging me constantly with, "Recalculating. Take the next exit to your right". The problem was there was a wall between me and the lanes which could exit. The nag didn't take the hint when I told her to bugger off.
Then Kim and I drove to Washington a few weeks ago and I sort of got used to "Betty" (as Kim calls her GPS). Kim did all the driving and instructed me on how the GPS worked so that I could relax and learn. This helped a lot.
Today I ventured out in the city I'm very familiar with and attempted to learn the idiosyncrasies of my "Betty Boop". I apparently have the cheap model because mine has no neat British accent, just a plain old Canadian one. Mine doesn't chill me with the words, "Recalculating", when I take a wrong turn or just decide to take a different route than she wants me to take. She simply accepts the change and deals with it. I like this much better.
My "Betty Boop" isn't very smart. She pronounces the names of streets in a really odd way which makes it difficult for me to understand. For instance, she wanted me to turn at Joneston Rd. and she pronounced it jon-ess-ton. Then when I approached Kenora she pronounced it kenerra. Coming up the Claremont Access, "Betty Boop" referred to it as the Claremont A.C.C. This will take some getting used to, I guess. I need it mainly for the highway, anyhow.
I hope she doesn't pronounce "highway" as hig-h-way.
Getting Rid of Things
For most of our lives we amass things. We form collections of items that interest us or just collections of possessions we can't easily give up. But, at some time in our lives, we reach the age where we must stop collecting and start disposing of those things. We call it "clearing house" or "downsizing" but what we're really doing is preparing for death.
I'm not ready to leave this earth any time soon because I'm having too good a time but I always have it in the back of my mind that I don't want to leave my children with a huge mess to clear out. I have a five year plan which, at the end of each year, keeps being extended another five years.
My plan is to sell my house and move into an apartment in about five years but I'll stay in my present house as long as I can manage it. I also plan on selling my Florida trailer in about five years because I'm afraid I'll be too old then to safely drive there by myself. My daughter assured me that she'd drive me down when that time came. Sounds kindly but I think she just wants to make sure I'm out of her hair for the winter.
In the meantime I'm working steadily to clear my house of the most unnecessary things. It helps that I have a flea market stall because I can get rid of lots of stuff there. One man's junk is another man's treasure, right?
I just cleaned out the kitchen drawers and got rid of about 50 lbs. of unnecessary cutlery. There are now tidy drawers with only the minimum items needed by a lady who seldom cooks and who will never host a dinner party again. Even my fancy silverplate flatware went to my daughter who, luckily, has the same pattern. I even found a full set of my grandmother's silverplate flatware that I'd forgotten about and it will go to daughter #2. Daughter #3 is out of luck.
I've been in this house since 1968 and I think that's the cause of a lot of my problems. If I'd had to move a few times I would have disposed of some this stuff already. It's actually a little euphoric to lighten up the load of my possessions because it makes my house seem roomier and brighter.
We Canadians and Americans are an especially wasteful society. Because of our affluency in comparison to third world countries we acquire way too many things that we really don't need. I've never been much of a collector but the bulk of my excess possessions were impulse buys at yard sales and destined for the flea market. They were never meant to build up in the basement to the point where it bothers me to look at the pile.
Speaking of which...too many of those impulse buys have become items I love and don't want to give up. It's a vicious circle of acquiring, becoming attached to, and not having the true need or room to keep. I am a work in progress as I gradually give away, discard, or sell and one day my house will be neat and orderly.
That's my five year plan.
I'm not ready to leave this earth any time soon because I'm having too good a time but I always have it in the back of my mind that I don't want to leave my children with a huge mess to clear out. I have a five year plan which, at the end of each year, keeps being extended another five years.
My plan is to sell my house and move into an apartment in about five years but I'll stay in my present house as long as I can manage it. I also plan on selling my Florida trailer in about five years because I'm afraid I'll be too old then to safely drive there by myself. My daughter assured me that she'd drive me down when that time came. Sounds kindly but I think she just wants to make sure I'm out of her hair for the winter.
In the meantime I'm working steadily to clear my house of the most unnecessary things. It helps that I have a flea market stall because I can get rid of lots of stuff there. One man's junk is another man's treasure, right?
I just cleaned out the kitchen drawers and got rid of about 50 lbs. of unnecessary cutlery. There are now tidy drawers with only the minimum items needed by a lady who seldom cooks and who will never host a dinner party again. Even my fancy silverplate flatware went to my daughter who, luckily, has the same pattern. I even found a full set of my grandmother's silverplate flatware that I'd forgotten about and it will go to daughter #2. Daughter #3 is out of luck.
I've been in this house since 1968 and I think that's the cause of a lot of my problems. If I'd had to move a few times I would have disposed of some this stuff already. It's actually a little euphoric to lighten up the load of my possessions because it makes my house seem roomier and brighter.
We Canadians and Americans are an especially wasteful society. Because of our affluency in comparison to third world countries we acquire way too many things that we really don't need. I've never been much of a collector but the bulk of my excess possessions were impulse buys at yard sales and destined for the flea market. They were never meant to build up in the basement to the point where it bothers me to look at the pile.
Speaking of which...too many of those impulse buys have become items I love and don't want to give up. It's a vicious circle of acquiring, becoming attached to, and not having the true need or room to keep. I am a work in progress as I gradually give away, discard, or sell and one day my house will be neat and orderly.
That's my five year plan.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Massacre on the Greyhound
Everyone is still reeling after hearing about the horrific murder on a Greyhound bus yesterday. Only someone who is totally insane could have committed such a ghastly murder on an innocent man he didn't even know.
There's talk of using metal detectors to screen bus riders, as though that could have stopped this maniac from committing murder. We literally can never have 100% protection from the insane, and I include suicide bombers in that category.
We, the public, can't live our lives in fear of the select few whose aim in life is to cause harm. What happened on that bus in Manitoba has never happened anywhere before and will probably never happen like that again. But it will happen somewhere else because there are too many criminally insane people allowed to walk our streets freely. It's their right, don't you know.
I don't believe it will happen in my lifetime but some time in the future the powers that be will see the wisdom in making our society a safe one for us. Child predators won't be given a second chance to destroy a young life and the insane will be kept separate from an unsuspecting society at large.
Do we think there were no warning signs that the man who carried out this vicious murder had mental problems which made him unfit to walk freely among us? Never in a million years. What protected him (and not his victim) were laws giving civil rights to all, regardless of the fact there was a good chance he'd hurt someone.
There is no shame heaped on the murderer because he was obviously mentally incapable of controlling himself but the legal system which neglectfully allowed him out in public has failed us completely.
All of our ravings and angry complaints will not bring the 22 year old man back to life. We can only hope our legal system will tighten the reins on people who are too dangerous to wander freely.
There's talk of using metal detectors to screen bus riders, as though that could have stopped this maniac from committing murder. We literally can never have 100% protection from the insane, and I include suicide bombers in that category.
We, the public, can't live our lives in fear of the select few whose aim in life is to cause harm. What happened on that bus in Manitoba has never happened anywhere before and will probably never happen like that again. But it will happen somewhere else because there are too many criminally insane people allowed to walk our streets freely. It's their right, don't you know.
I don't believe it will happen in my lifetime but some time in the future the powers that be will see the wisdom in making our society a safe one for us. Child predators won't be given a second chance to destroy a young life and the insane will be kept separate from an unsuspecting society at large.
Do we think there were no warning signs that the man who carried out this vicious murder had mental problems which made him unfit to walk freely among us? Never in a million years. What protected him (and not his victim) were laws giving civil rights to all, regardless of the fact there was a good chance he'd hurt someone.
There is no shame heaped on the murderer because he was obviously mentally incapable of controlling himself but the legal system which neglectfully allowed him out in public has failed us completely.
All of our ravings and angry complaints will not bring the 22 year old man back to life. We can only hope our legal system will tighten the reins on people who are too dangerous to wander freely.
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