Becoming Conservative

When I was young I was aware that people seemed to become more conservative as they aged but never believed it would happen to me. I was sort of a wild girl who thoroughly enjoyed dipping my toes in dangerous waters. Taking chances was exhilarating.

These days I take as few chances as possible, feel my security terribly threatened when there is social unrest in my country, and become irritated too easily when faced with juvenile idiocy. I have become what I used to despise...a crotchety old woman who just wants my world to run smoothly and preferably quietly.

When did that wild, full of life girl disappear? I remember having to tone down when I met the man who would become my husband (he was mature, responsible, and definitely not a free spirit). After my children were born I began to realize that it would be best for them if everyone in the world behaved responsibly, including me.

By the time middle age had shown it's unwanted face, I had gained an interest in the importance of politics. There must have been still a vestige of liberalism in me at that time because I thought the New Democratic party would be the saving grace of Canada and supported it with my vote and volunteer services. When they became the ruling party in Ontario and almost bankrupted the province, I lost faith in politics.

Slowly, but surely, I adopted more conservative views until today when I have to admit I've reached the age of no nonsense. I don't like change. I don't like disruptions of any kind (you know what I think about native uprisings), and it isn't fun staying up late anymore,

Not all old gals become conservative but the wild ones seem kind of weird to the rest of us. More and more, as each day passes, I want to bask in a sea of peace and safety. I accept that uncertainty is better handled by the young because it only keeps me awake worrying all night.

Heaven help me, I've morphed into a Conservative.

Native Blockade of Hwy 401

Well, they just won't stop, will they? But then, why should they? Many of the native protesters don't have jobs to keep them occupied so taking a few hours out of their boring day to close a highway used by the working people must seem like a good idea to them. And then, every time they cause a disruption the Canadian government hands them more money. Sounds like they won't stop their antics any time soon.

When I heard that the natives were going to blockade Hwy 401 I stupidly thought, "Well, even the useless OPP won't stand for that!". It seems I was wrong.

Some of the signs carried by the protesters stated that they were tired of living in poverty. I thought, "Well, most people who have no jobs live in poverty". The best way to pull yourself out of poverty is to find employment and support yourself. Blockading a highway and keeping hard working people from getting to work to earn the money to pay their taxes which supports unemployed natives might be like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Long sentence but quite true!

Apparently the natives have legitimate land claims but they should be settled in the court and the court should be given a definite time frame in which to settle them. It shouldn't take hundreds of years and it shouldn't overcompensate a group of people who have contributed little to building the great country of Canada.

Settle their claims fairly, both for the natives and for the rest of the Canadian citizens. And then, when all is done, toss the next person who blockades a Canadian highway, business, or home straight into jail whether their skin is black, white, red, or purple!

I'm Back

I can't believe how awful it's been not being able to blog for almost 2 weeks!! My computer crashed and I'm just now getting back online.

My old computer was on it's way out for a long time but I thought I still had plenty of time to shop for a new one. Nooo! Computers die when their time has come and nothing will bring them back to life. Since I know so little about computers I needed to drag my young neighbors shopping with me to talk to the sales people so I wouldn't drive them crazy with my blank stares and silly questions.

I came home with a brand new computer and my dear young neighbors set to work hooking it up for me. Sounds simple? Not on your life!

First I was dogsitting my daughter's yappy Jack Russell Terriers and they were naturally curious about what Anna was doing under the computer desk and insisted on climbing under there with her so I had to shut them (the dogs) away in the bathroom. They barked. And barked. And barked continuously out of justifiable outrage.

Anna spent hours under the desk because the connection to the new computer from my U.S. bought monitor (terrific buy that I just had to haul all the way home from Florida) was too short. Anna's sister, Lisa, and I went off to buy a new one. It didn't work. Anna phoned the store and told them exactly what she needed and I went and got it. Problem solved? Not a chance in hell!

The new cable plugged in where it should but now my phones were dead. I borrowed my next door neighbor's cell phone and called Bell...first getting a lady from India that I couldn't understand and then getting a man from Quebec I couldn't understand. Somehow I understood the words "tomorrow" and "8 to 5", said goodbye and hoped it meant someone from Bell would be here the next day between 8 A.M. and 5 P.M. Meantime, the dogs were barking up a storm and Anna was sitting under the desk looking very weary.

I swear that within 15 minutes a knock came at the front door and a Bell repairman stood there. He sounded just like the guy from Quebec I'd spoken to on the phone just moments before! I couldn't understand a word he said!!

Now I've got a repairman here who I can barely communicate with, Anna is still under the desk, and the dogs are barking like crazed animals because someone new is in the house and they want to meet him.

During his inspection, the repairman had me unplug all of the house phones. I mistakenly unplugged the one leading to the computer and my phone service came back on. The repairman left, I replugged the phones back in and the lines were dead again. Anna went home and I let the dogs out of the bathroom.

The next day I spoke to a tech at the store where I'd purchased the computer and was told there could be a problem with the modem. I, thinking that he meant the modem was broken, hauled the computer back to the store. I tried to explain my predicament to Customer Service (the lady had a blank, confused look on her face all through my explanation) and she called over one of the sales people. He asked one question, "Are you on low speed dial up service?" I answered, "Yes", and he informed me that the new computer modems won't work with that anymore. None of them! I was about to be launched into the "high speed" lane whether I was ready or not.

I carted that damed heavy computer home again and phoned AOL to order their high speed service. They told me it would take a week or so for the new modem to be delivered to me so I suffered many days with no internet. The modem arrived yesterday and my wonderful daughter, Kim, installed it for me tonight. She wasn't a happy camper but she did it anyway. I have to admit she got a little surly when I told her it would all have to be taken apart and returned to AOL when I leave for Florida in October, though.

Also, the new computer has Windows Vista and it's the pits. It won't let me install my camera program, I can't figure out how to use my printer on it, and everything is just awkward on it...or is it me?

Anyway, I'm back and can't wait to blog about all the interesting things that have been happening in the last 2 weeks.

Father's Day

Today is Father's Day and I know my girls are missing their father who passed away almost 2 years ago. He was one of the best fathers in the world.

Dennis was the kind of Dad who played with his children. I have so many memories of him having water fights with them, hiking with them, fixing their bikes, etc., etc., etc. In the play was often a lesson because that's what parents do. We play and teach at the same time.

He was a protective father and had very high expectations of his girls. When they did wrong he'd first raise one eyebrow when he looked at them and then he'd very seriously have a talk with them. He didn't spank. The eyebrow trick usually worked without having to resort to spanking.

When our daughters married he spent many a day working on projects at their homes. Shelley, who lived in the States, always had a job list ready for him when we visited.

A funny story was when Shelley left home to live in Texas and Dennis joked with her not to marry a man named Juan (many Mexicans live in Texas). Well, Shelley met an American born Cuban named Juan (John) and did marry him. He's a wonderful son-in-law, husband, and father today.

Dennis was an equally wonderful hands on grandfather. I've mentioned before how he'd take the kids to his "magic cave" (his workroom) and teach them to use the tools. He taught them how to sail which was one of his passions. He taught them how to tie their shoeslaces.

Dennis had a great love for his children and grandchildren and he showed that from the time they were born. He was crazy about his daughters and never missed having a son. He was crazy about his grandchildren and the only difference he showed between them was that he was a little softer with the girls. He never really understood that the girls were much tougher than the boys. Sexism!

All the love he showered on his children paid off because they were the towers of strength we leaned on when Dennis was sick. They were the ones who cared for him to the end.

He was a good father and I know my girls are remembering and hurting a little more today.

Weeding

I did some weeding today after neglecting the yard for a few weeks. I carried a little pail around with me to put the weeds in and in just a few short minutes my backyard flower and veggie gardens were weed free. I've had so much to do inside the house so far this year that I haven't weeded as often as I should so it was a pleasant surprise to find it wasn't an overwhelming task.

There are a few young saplings and bushes that are attempting to gain a foothold in the yard and I'm keeping my eye on them to make sure they don't intrude too much. One of my big faults is that I hate to kill a living plant (unless it's a weed) and feel if one of those saplings or bushes want to grow then it should be allowed it's chance.

During my weeding I spotted a couple of my annuals pulled out of their pots and lying on the ground...squirrels!! I do love to sit out in the yard and watch the wildlife going about their business but it ticks me off when the squirrels pull out my plants. Someone told me that squirrels will stay out of your plants if you put toothpicks in them (the plants, that is). I might give that a try because I don't want to hurt the squirrels, just discourage them.

I also cut the grass today, and then watered it to help it grow. The logic of this escapes me.

Bingo at the Senior Center

Last night a friend and I went to Bingo at the local senior center. I'd never been before but seen an ad saying it would cost $12 for a lasagna dinner and evening of Bingo so thought it would be fun.

Leona and I are old Bingo pals from the Florida park so we headed there with Bingo bag and dabbers only to find that they still use the old cardboard cards and Bingo chips...not nearly as efficient but okay since we were able to borrow some from the front desk.

The senior center is fairly new and absolutely a beautiful facility. I've had craft classes there before and occasionally have lunch there, too. The room used for Bingo was huge but still filled to capacity for this event and the staff were well organized. I think they actually have Bingo games every Friday but this was a special event because of the dinner being included.

As we walked in we each picked up 12 cards to play with and took them to our table. Leaving our bags and cards there, we wandered over to get ourselves a drink and, when we returned, found someone had stolen our cards! Understand that everyone gets these cards with their admittance but, at the moment, there was a shortage until the staff could find some more so someone must have gotten worried they wouldn't have any and selfishly took ours. Isn't that creepy? Don't ever believe that all sweet little old ladies are honest because some of them aren't. The staff had already found plenty of new cards so we were able to get more but it really disgusted me that someone could be low enough to do something like that.

The dinner of lasagna, choice of tossed or caesar salad, roll, drinks, and dessert was pretty good. Bingo began at 6 P.M. and the games were similar to what we play in Florida so we were able to follow it okay.

I won the jackpot in the Early Bird (Bingo players know that is the warm-up games which precede the actual set games) and pocketed $25. Unfortunately, Leona, who almost always wins at Bingo, didn't win anything last night but we had fun anyway. Leona said I won because the creepy old bat stole our original cards.

After the games, we came back to my house for coffee and talk. Even though Bingo here at home isn't nearly as much fun as it is in our Florida trailer park, it had been a nice evening and I'm glad we went.

Heat Duct Cleaning Done

The work is done, well and timely and at a fair price. I've been told to leave the furnace fan on all of the time but I don't dare do that in case the motor burns out as it has done in the past. But my husband replaced it then and now I'd have to arrange replacement.

The truth about having your furnace fan running is that it draws cold air from the basement and circulates it throughout the house, often eliminating the need to turn on your air conditioning. I knew this but I'm still not going to leave the fan on continuously.

The fan is running now and there is no dusty smell...good news because it means the plaster dust has been removed. I should have had this done many times over the years but I was too cheap to do it. The duct man said we should have our ducts professionally cleaned at least every 2-3 years. I think I'll wait longer than that but I'm so happy to have it done now.

Just so you know...was it worth the money ($166 including tax to clean 11 vents and also the furnace)? Yes!!

Heat Duct Cleaning

My house was 15 years old when we bought it in 1968 so we've spent many of the years since doing renovations. I've never had the heat ducts cleaned professionally until today.

It was during the last renovation (the basement) that I realized just how much plaster dust gets spread around because I'm the one who had to clean it off EVERY surface in the basement. During the renovation we had some pretty cold days in April and May and I was able to see an unbelievable increase in the amount of dust deposited on surfaces all around the house when the furnace fan was blowing. That was when I decided it was time to clean the ducts.

This past week has been fairly hot and I just might have broken down and turned on the air conditioning at night but I couldn't stand the thought of all that dust circulating in the air if I did. The cleaning service gets here between 10 and noon today so I'll let you know if the cost is worth it the next time I turn on the air!

Visiting Someone Who Is Terminally Ill

For most of us it's very difficult to know what to say when we visit someone who is terminally ill. We're worried we'll sound too flippant if we try to keep the conversation light and we're also worried about how to approach the subject of illness or death. It would be wrong to visit a terminally ill person and never mention their circumstances. That would be like dismissing an important part of their existence.

Years ago I made the much regretted mistake of not visiting my niece who was dying from breast cancer. I felt there was nothing I could do to make things better for her and that I'd only be in the way. I can't tell you how wrong I was and how much I wish I could turn back the clock.

Today I visited an old friend who is terminal. We weren't very close friends and only saw each other occasionally at the best of times. I'd been reluctant to visit her because "I felt there was nothing I could do to make her feel better"...sound familiar?

She was having a relatively good day and seemed genuinely happy to see me. In the course of conversation she mentioned how nice it was to have visitors to talk to because she spent so much time just resting. By the time I left we'd talked about everything under the sun and her impending death was one of the topics. She brought it up herself and seemed at peace with the inevitable.

As I left she hugged me and asked me to please come back again soon. I could see clearly that my taking the time to spend a few hours with her had mattered.

It's important when visiting a seriously ill person that you call ahead to make sure they're up for the visit. Then watch them carefully to know when you should leave and let them rest...they won't always tell you but the signs are usually quite evident when their energy is spent.

Let them discuss what interests them and don't shy away from uncomfortable subjects such as their illness. Be honest and speak to them with respect. They don't necessarily want your sympathy but they do need your understanding.

Today we laughed about life and even spent a bit of time discussing glass. She had a lovely vase and wondered if I could identify it. I knew the pattern and value immediately and we joked about how it had spent many years half forgotten and just gathering dust...like a lot of our little treasures.

I hope she has enough time left on this earth for many more visits. I plan to be there till the end and do whatever little thing I can to make her final days a little easier.

Extended Families

My three daughters have all married into nice families with great in-laws that I like to hang around with. My son-in-law had a small birthday party today and his brother, sister, their mates, and his Mom and Dad were there. We sat around just gabbing about average stuff but I kept thinking how nice it was that our extended family had become friends as well as in-laws.

It's really great to gather more people into the family fold. My children and my grandchildren have all been taught the joys and benefits of strong family ties.

I'm sure my daughters are happy that their parents and in-laws have gotten along so well because there's never any tension in get-togethers like tonight. I always look forward to seeing them and hope they like my company, too.

Starting with my husband's parents, the number of their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc., plus the mates and all the in-laws could easily populate a small town. It's been a busy family.

My second granddaughter, Lisette, once said that she'd love to see all of her relatives lined up in front of her house. Well, Lisette, you'll be happy to know that there are so many of us that you'd never be able to see the end of the line.

When first meeting my daughters' in-laws I was a little nervous about whether or not they'd like me. We were all a little stiff and uncomfortable for a short while until we realized that none of us were all that different and, once we relaxed, were able to really get to know each other.

I've now got extended family spreading out like octopus tentacles, and then splitting off and beyond like nerve endings. The more the merrier!

Homesick

My youngest daughter, Shelley, and her family are in the military and currently stationed in Argentina. Her husband, John, will be promoted shortly and they'll all return to Florida (their home base) for the ceremony. The children are wildly excited and I think this is the first time they've shown any homesickness. Being a military family, they've lived in many different states and even countries all the children's lives.

I've been feeling a little glum lately and have come to the realization that I miss my little Florida home and all the daily activity there. Of course, Canada will always be my true home but that special trailer park in Florida has become like home to me, too. Maybe, if we're lucky, we can feel like we're at home in more than one place.

"Home" is where we feel comfortable and where we have some history. Our stuff is there. We know our neighbors and where to shop. Home is our own personal space to live in. And home is usually close to where most of our relatives live.

In my trailer park in Florida, my friends and neighbors all live in such close proximity and we see each other constantly. We become closer than friends. I'm finding lately that I miss their faces. I miss the days full of conversation and laughter.

Well, I'll be seeing a lot of those people in just a few short weeks when we have our summer reunion. It will be just a bit like going home.

People Helping People

I've been trying to encourage my friend and "relative", Donna, to write a blog about her experiences in caring for her daughter who is severely disabled. Donna is married to my husband's cousin so I'm not sure how she's related to me but she is.

Donna is worried that she has nothing to contribute to anyone and can't see that all she's learned in about 35 years of caring for her daughter could benefit others just starting out. She and her husband chose to keep Jill at home rather than put her in a nursing home and I'm sure that's why Jill does so well.

It's common to think that our own lives are so mundane that no-one would be interested in what we have to say but we've had life experiences we can provide to others in our same situation. We can learn from them, too, and it also helps to know you're not alone.

I've had a pen pal from New Jersey for quite a few years and can't wait for the day I meet her in person. We found each other on a website which helps overweight people get in contact with each other and discuss our problems and solutions. She's become more than a sounding board about weight because she's a fabulously interesting lady with 66 years of living experience.

My point is that we all have something to offer. Our own experiences may be unique in a way but they so often coincide with the life experiences or interests of other people. Like I said before, it helps to know you're not alone.

I hope Donna gains the confidence to share her knowledge on the internet because she has a world of experience in caring for a disabled child and I know she can be of tremendous help to others.

Cancer

My son-in-law, David, has been battling kidney cancer for about a year and a half. He's currently using a powerful new drug called Nexavar which comes in pill form. He's doing very well.

My daughter directed me to a blog journal being kept by an amazing man chronicling his journey with kidney cancer, the drugs, the side effects, and the successes. It's so important that we hear about the successes because just the word "cancer" creates fear.

I'll bet that every one of us knows of someone who died from cancer but we also probably know of more people who have beaten it. That came as a surprise to me when I took the time to really think about it.

There are new drugs and new treatments being discovered every day and oncologists are definitely better equipped to help cancer patients today than they were even a year ago.

The drug my son-in-law is taking is very new and very expensive so we're thankful my daughter's health insurance company is covering the cost. Our national health insurance doesn't cover the cost at this moment in time and it worries me that people without additional insurance won't receive this wonder drug.

The gentleman who is writing the journal comes across as good natured but determined to do everything humanly possible to destroy the cancer. His strong, upbeat attitude will aid him in his battle.

No-one knows how they'll react if they're given the news they have a life threatening illness but I know that by reading or hearing of the successes of people in similar situations they'll carry more hope. Having hope can be the difference between life and death. We're told never to give up hope because then the body's natural defences give up, too.

I equate that with giving up hope in your fight to retain anything, whether it's a good marriage, a successful project, or a healthy plant. If you cease to mentally fight for it's survival, it just might not make it.

David has a wonderful attitude and is taking the side effects of the drug in stride, continuing to work and enjoy life. His chances grow with every day and so do our hopes of a complete cure.

Kindness

We live in a society where kindness from strangers is touch and go. Fellow shoppers will walk out of a door and let it slam in your face...or a lady with stroller and young one in tow will struggle to hold it open for you.

A driver will slow down to allow you to cross the road safely...or honk the horn angrily because you've taken 10 seconds longer than you should.

Acts of kindness in whatever category are what keeps us human. It's so easy in our busy world to forget that it's less important how many tasks you complete in your day than how many of them benefited your fellow man.

Years ago we opened our school doors to the handicapped and our "normal" children were given first hand knowledge that some of us need a little help from the stronger, faster ones. It was a life lesson that was well worth learning.

Many of the immigrants to Canada are from cultures where seniors are treasured and respected. I've mentioned before how my young Chinese neighbor ladies are frequent visitors and who have become good friends. I'm always in awe of the kindnesses they bestow upon me.

Just showing a passing kindness to the strangers you come in contact with every day can make a world of difference in their lives. It can make our society a nicer one to live in. And the moment you took to care for the people you share this earth with will make you a better person.

We're fortunate to live in Canada where the fears of bombings and wars are far away and immigrants come here because they want the safety they find. We're not the garden of Eden but we have the space and the opportunity to include all nationalities who come here in peace. One of the pleasures of being a "melting pot" country is that we can learn to understand rather than fear each other.

So show a little kindness to someone today and the world will be a better place. Isn't that easy?

Auras

She sees auras
And says mine is special.
I'm not sure
She sees auras.

I have a friend who sees auras and says she was able to see mine. I believe in this stuff because I have ESP but I've never been able to see auras myself.

This same friend also had a near death experience which was exactly what I've read about in books. I, on the other hand, have had many out of body experiences but no near death ones.

My belief is that the ability to see auras and experience all of the extra sensory perceptions is within all of us and we just need to tap into it. An open mind helps.

Disillusioned Immigrant from the U.K.

A lady who immigrated to Canada from the U.K. wrote a scathing letter to our local newspaper saying she regrets coming here and it was the biggest mistake she ever made. Her stated reasons are that, after 2 years residence, she can't get a job in her chosen field and that the majority of Canadians treat her like a second class citizen.

I'd bet it's her superior attitude that makes people, Canadian or not, turn their backs on her. As far as finding a job in her chosen field, many 2nd and 3rd generation Canadians are unable to do that. We can't always have what we want, lady!

Coming to the "land of opportunity" doesn't guarantee anyone a perfect life. If Canada could do that we'd all be deliriously happy, wouldn't we?

I knew someone years ago who immigrated here from Germany and expected her husband would make his fortune within the year. At that time he was a Canadian soldier who didn't have a penny to his name. We all laughed at her unreasonable expectations but she was very serious about them. Well, he didn't make his fortune fast enough so she went back to Germany.

Making your home anywhere means that you will strive to land the best job you can (hopefully in your chosen field but there's never any guarantee for anyone), raise your family in a pleasant neighborhood where you will make every effort to get along with your neighbors, and then do what you can to make your country a better place.

The lady from the U.K. has been here for 2 years and didn't get exactly what she wanted so she hates it here. She's an idiot.

My Beautiful Boy is 23

My daughter, Kim, wrote of how her first born son became a teenager just 10 short years ago. I don't remember that. My strongest memories of my beautiful boy all seem to be when he was very small. I adored him from before he was even born and enjoyed his childhood with a pleasure I can't even begin to put into words.

He was a perfect baby, a perfect child, a perfect teenager, and now a perfect young, married man. Some might think I'm a bit prejudiced but I'm not.

Nick was 11 lbs. 1 1/2 oz. when he was born. Kim had taken fertility drugs a year or so before she became pregnant and I believe that had something to do with her giving birth to this humungous baby. He was gorgeous.

We doted on this lovely child, practically worshipping him, but he wasn't spoiled. He just never realized he was a child...just thought he was a small adult.

His first word...after Momma, Daddy, and Mamomma (his special made up name for me) was "a..hole". He picked that up from hearing his father curse out a driver that had just cut him off on the highway. From then on he learned to speak clearly and quickly. We managed to make him forget that first word.

At the age of 3 he'd get up in the morning, put on a dress shirt and dress pants complete with clip-on tie and carry his mother's backgammon case around, pretending it was a briefcase. So cute.

I saw him on his 23rd birthday, a grown man with a lovely wife. But in my heart he'll always be that beautiful little boy calling me "Mamomma".

Ads

It tickles my funny bone to see some of the ads that appear on my site. One I've seen occasionally is "Make Him Fall In Love". Does anyone in their right mind think there's a way to force someone to fall in love with you? You might be able to make them fall in lust but love is totally different. It happens of it's own accord for some unknown reason or it doesn't happen at all.

Remember the silly adds that promised you that you could increase your bust size by applying the advertiser's very expensive cream? I wonder how much money was made from that ad. Then there are the T.V. ads we see often where the product is promoted to the stars but, at the end, the warnings of severe side effects make me think I'm watching a comedy skit. But they're serious!

It's interesting to look at advertising and try to determine what the advertiser is doing to attract us. Sex is a big motivator but ads often promise us "happiness" in our lives if we buy their product. Couldn't we be happy without buying their product?

Believe it or not, some ads are designed to irritate us because all they want to do is get our attention. Remember the ad telling us to "appy it directly to the forehead"? I bet you do!

There's one ad on T.V. right now that I'm so disgusted with that I'm thinking of sending a nasty letter to the company. It's for a cat food and shows a man who thinks he's a cat using a litter box. The only thing that stops me from writing them is that they'll know their damned ad got my attention.

There is such a huge market for interesting and creative ads that I wonder why we don't see more good ones. Apparently they have contests every year to award the best ads from around the world and I've seen these shows on T.V. The ads are wonderful.

Anyway, about the ad promising to make him/her love you. It won't work!

Good Samaritan

Last year I arrived home from Florida in April and found 10 boxes of china, silver, and knick knacks left at my back door. My next door neighbors saw a lady pull into my driveway and carry these boxes into the backyard just days before my return. Obviously they were left there by someone who knew I have a flea market stall and could use the items, but it had to be someone who knew I'd be arriving home within a few days, too. The boxes were very dirty as though they'd been stored for many years but each item inside the boxes had been carefully wrapped in newspaper (some 1930's) to carefully preserve them.

I've never found out who was kind enough to leave that lovely stuff for me.

I sold some of the things on Ebay and some at my flea market stall but one item I couldn't give up. It's a beautifully ornate flower frog, set in a large silver tray on a pedestal. The tray is also very ornate and looks as though it might be from the early 1900's.

There's something about this flower frog that appeals to me on many levels. There is a grace about it but also an aura of goodness. That may sound silly but that's what I see and feel when I look at it. I hope when I pass on and my daughters are fighting over who ISN"T going to take my lovely collection of glass, that one of them will appreciate the intrinsic value of this beautiful flower frog.

I believe it's pretty special.

Letters to the Editor

I'm a retired lady who holds strong opinions on many subjects. I have a computer and plenty of time so therefore I write blogs and, occasionally, letters to the editor of my local newspaper.

My mother and my grandmother could never have dreamed of preaching their personal opinions over the internet or even in the newspaper they read every evening. This is a brave new world for retirees and I'm having such a darned good time taking advantage of it.

I wrote a letter to the editor the other day and received a phone call from the newspaper today to say they'd print it tomorrow. They also asked if they could insert my photo in the letter. I hate the fact that they print my name let alone allowing them to show my face, too, so I told them no thanks. I prefer being anonymous so I don't have to temper my true opinions.

I've written many letters to the editor and only a handful have been published...some of what I consider the best ones were rejected. One day I'll build up the nerve to ask them why they've chosen a particular one to print.

This is so much fun!

The Magic Cave

My husband and grandchildren used to refer to his basement workroom as the "magic cave" because it held all kinds of tools (many electric and too dangerous for small children) that they would use together. I was always very nervous when they were down there. My grandson, Matthew, often came bursting through the front door hollering, "Come on, Grampa. Let's do something dangerous!". No wonder I worried.

These days I'm still busy cleaning out the "magic cave" and finding the most useless junk imaginable. Why did he keep a long, heavy chunk of fibreglass, or a boat paddle end, or an old bathroom tap, or a ton of wood trim, or a ton of metal strips, etc., etc., etc.?

So far I've counted 3 drills that look exactly the same to me and a zillion screws, bits, nails, nuts, and bolts. Do men really need this much stuff in their workroom? Of course, I know he'd say the same thing about my sewing room.

I don't think we ever look to the future when all of our junk will have to be disposed of by someone else. I know my daughters are worried about my junk and my precious glass collection (they all hate it). We all think we'll live long enough to use up every piece of our personal treasures.

I've always loved doing crafts and have quite an assortment of supplies which I'm going to sort out and give most of them to my sister. She runs a day care and uses lots of craft materials with the children. For a couple of years now I've only worked on 2 crafts, Swedish weaving and quilting, so I should be able to get rid of a lot of things I won't use again.

But I can't give up my crystal beads which I plan to use to make jewellery one day, or my stained glass and equipment that I'm sure I'll get back to once I can't go to Florida for the winters. I've got a lot of nice stuff that will be hard to let go. Sorry girls!

Sisterhood

E-mailing is a wonderful thing. It allows us to keep in contact with friends who have moved far away or would have been half forgotten without the contact achieved with the computer.

I received an e-mail this morning from a friend I haven't seen in possibly 15 years. We keep in contact by e-mail and there's a good chance we'll be able to get together this summer when I visit New Brunswick for a family reunion. Her message was about sisterhood and how important the women in our lives are.

When I think back to my childhood I remember living with my sister, my mother, and my grandmother who took us in to live with her and take care of us. My grandfather was there also, but sort of on the the side.

I always had girlfriends to play with, giggle with, and plan for the future with. We understood each other and, without exception, couldn't figure out the boys at all.

During my teen years my social life included about 3 special girlfriends who travelled together. I turned down many an opportunity because my girlfriends weren't included in the invitation. That's how important they were to me. It was only in the company of these girls that I felt confident enough to face the world.

Then along came that special boy and I couldn't care less if my girlfriends were there or not.

Marriage and motherhood sort of separated me from many of my friends but my female relatives began to take their place. Marriage and motherhood cannot be survived without the love and support of the women in your life, whether they are related or not.

When troubles arrived, as they often do, I turned to these women to help me through. I don't think most men can handle the high emotions we women emit when we're distressed.

My young daughters grew up and became three of the most important women in my life...ones I know I can count on and they, in turn, know I'll always be there for them. My young granddaughters are in the wings.

We practice our sisterhood with lunches, baby showers, wedding showers, ladies day out, coffee mornings, phone calls, and e-mails. We continuously bond and strengthen our alliances.

We are women, we are strong. We are sisters.

Princess Diana

Princess Diana's sons have been trying to keep the photos of her fatal accident from being made public. It's a shame but those photos will draw a large audience and bring big bucks to the people selling them.

My personal morals are at odds with my natural curiosity to see the photos and it's making me feel terribly guilty for even considering it. Why are we like this?

There's something so helpless about a dead body and it just seems wrong to put it on display...in photos or even at a funeral. It's been many years since I've been to a funeral where it was open casket so most people must feel the same way I do about it.

I believe that the interest surrounding Diana's final pictures might be because she was such a phenomenal public figure. Whenever old film footage of her comes on T.V. I watch the whole thing, regretting she had so little time to do the good things she was known for. She shone as a celebrity...something that is pretty rare these days because so many of them appear to be quite worthless. Paris Hilton!

I'm going to have to have a good long talk with myself and resist the urge to gawk at those pictures of Diana. She deserves our respect.

Terms of Endearment

I just read a wonderful blog by my sister-in-law, Marilee, in which she mentions all the loving names we give each other. It brought back memories of endearments long past.

My earliest memory was of my grandmother calling me her "big, beautiful doll". That was the only playful name I can lay claim to in my family. I guess they weren't too demonstrative.

My husband would call me "babe" once in a while but I had no special name for him. I lavished it all on my children...sweetie, love, darlin', angel, etc...and then on my grandchildren. The loving names also spilled over onto other children, even ones I didn't know. I guess I felt safe being gushy with children.

I've developed a habit of calling all children "baby" and the younger ones (2-8) resent it. They don't accept it as a term of endearment but as a put-down.

I've never liked being called "dear" because it sounds cold to me. Marilee said that in Newfoundland you are apt to be called "old trout" and I'm horrified! I thanked her for giving me that information before I visit her again. Some kindly Newfoundlander might have gotten a piece of my mind if I wasn't forewarned.

Another term I hate is to be called "young lady" by someone who thinks it's a compliment. I'm not a young lady, I'm a well ripened lady of many years who melts when a gentleman calls me "ma'am".

My husband never cared much what people called him but he nearly ended the life of my daughter's first boyfriend when he popped his pimple faced head in the door on their first date and said "Hi, Pops", to him. He only said it that one time.

It's funny because his daughters often called him "Pops" but it was said with respect. Kim's boyfriend was out of line by using the same term the very first time he met him.

I was called "Patsy" by my family and always hated it. It's just lately that people close to me have begun calling me that and, strangely, I don't mind it now.

I guess an endearment has to be said in the right tone of voice by the right people and at the right time to be acceptable.

Forgiveness

I just read an article in the newspaper about forgiveness. I've always carried a guilt complex about my own inability to easily forgive. Mentally I understand that we must benefit from being able to let go and forgive our tormentors or assailants but emotionally I can't seem to forgive cruelty.

A philosopher named Herbert Marcuse said that "forgiveness condones the crime" and I really have to agree with that. Many things are simply unforgivable and the perpetrators of the crime don't deserve our forgiveness.

On the other hand, the bitterness that you hold against someone who has wronged you is best let go. Allowing it to fester inside of you can ruin your whole attitude on life so, by defusing that anger, you can move on.

It's logical to withhold forgiveness for unforgivable crimes or acts but, by not letting go of the bitterness, you are allowing the person to control your life. I read somewhere that the opposite of love is not hate but indifference and it's the indifference that we should strive for when we're unable to forgive. Those we care nothing about have no ability to hurt us.

A friend once told me that she "amputates" people from her life if they contribute nothing but grief and unhappiness. Sound selfish? Well, maybe some of us need to consider our own welfare once in a while.

The older I get the more I treasure the good people around me. I'm drawn to people who are kind and have a good sense of humor because they're the ones who brighten my day. And they make me try to be a better person myself.

A Beautiful Day

One might not think that a day mostly overcast and threatening rain can be a beautiful day but it was.

I look out on my back yard and see lush greenery still unburnt by the hot summer sun. Hostas growing larger by the moment and not yet eaten by snails. Early perennials blooming in their own special colors, outshining the sparse little recently planted annuals. The annuals just beginning to show the promise of months to come.

Right now there is just a hint of rain washed deck, the heavy rains are on their way but not arrived as yet. The birds are tweeting softly in their nests, sitting upon eggs which are their contribution to the future.

We've had heat and humidity and now the rains will fall for a while, cooling the air. And everything will be clean and growing. It truly has been a beautiful day.

Assisted Suicide

Poor old Jack Kevorkian just got out of prison after serving 8 years (could it really have been that long ago?) for aiding terminally ill people to end their suffering. I'm sure there are people who have wantonly murdered perfectly healthy people who haven't spent that long in prison.

I have a suicide pact with a close friend in the case that I am terminally ill, in unbearable pain, and ready to go onto the next level of existence. My only stipulation to her is that she get a second opinion in case I'm unable to tell her what I want.

I watched my husband spend the final year of his life in misery. There was no question of prematurely ending his life because he clung to it so tenaciously. But I was willing and ready to help him if his suffering became too much for him.

I've never understood why the church and our laws frown on assisting someone to pass over when they are in unbearable agony with no hope of recovery. If the person is still in sound mind and all of his doctors and care givers understand that this is truthfully the patient's wishes, then why is it wrong to help them leave?

I've spoken to a lot of people about this subject and most feel as I do. I'm not afraid of dying but I'm terrified of hanging on in pain which will only worsen and which I can't survive.

Jack Kevorkian was a brave man to stand up to the establishment and do what he felt was right. His actions were beneficial to many people who had no other recourse. I hope my "Jack Kevorkian" will be around when and if I need her.

Clearing Stuff Out

My husband and I lived in this house since 1968 and I think he kept every wood scrap and every obsolete curtain rod we've ever had. Now that my basement renovation is complete...yeah!, I'm in the process of removing all the stuff that never should have been given basement space.

Luckily I have a terrific neighbor who will see to it that anything I pull out of the basement will be whisked away without me having to take loads to the dump. He also offered to help bring it out but I'm determined to do this job myself.

Today I cleared the wood and odd assortments of metal from my laundryroom. I know they've been there for years and I assume my husband thought he'd use them one day. Then I pulled a bit from his workroom but that is a little overwhelming at this point and I'll need full days and full energy to tackle it properly.

Just as I thought my workday was done I foolishly went into the toolshed and realized there was a lot of wood there, too, so I added it to the pile in my driveway. My neighbor will have it all gone by tomorrow but I've warned him there are a few tons still to go. I don't think he believes me!

Just a note to husbands everywhere...get rid of all the crap you keep just in case you might need it. If you pass away before your wife she's the one who has to dispose of it all. And if your wife is anything like me, she has her own crap to deal with.

Selfishness

The lawyer who knowingly exposed airplane passengers to a virulent strain of T.B. hopes his victims will forgive him. He just wanted to get back home to the U.S., he said. Well, tough s**t!! Now those poor people will have to undergo tests for years to come and their whole lives will be changed for the worse because of his selfishness.

Imagine this man...knowing his T.B. was extremely dangerous because it is drug resistant...knowing the Center of Disease Control had told him not to board a plane...knowing his actions could cause death or misery to possibly a couple of hundred people...choosing to ignore the rights of all of those people and deliberately exposing them to his disease.

He apparently was advised not to fly to Europe but chose to do so. Then he was told definitely not to fly back to the States but he chose to ignore that, too. He happens to be a personal injury lawyer so he can expect to have many of these people sue his ass.

We've seen people with AIDS keep their condition a secret and continue to have unprotected sex but this is the first time I've ever heard of someone with a contageous illness deliberately putting so many people at risk. The AIDS person was given jail time and so should this man. Because he and his father are both lawyers I doubt he'll spend a minute in jail, though.

We're bound to see more dangerous illnesses brought to our country because there are more world travellers. My fear has always been that they'd bring these diseases here unknowingly, becoming infected but not experiencing signs of sickness until they were already here. But in this case we have a well educated man selfish enough to consider his wishes more important than the lives of others.

What's really awful is that we shouldn't be surprised because we see it every day in every way.

True Love

I've been getting e-mails recently about true love and I started to think that we all have our own perceptions of true love but there's always one constant...true love sees beyond all faults.

It doesn't matter if your baby has scraggly hair or a big nose...you love them wholeheartedly and would give your life for them.

It doesn't matter if your hubby has a little too much tummy hanging over his belt buckle...your spirits lift when he walks through the door.

It doesn't matter if your wife spends too much money on cosmetics or clothes...you love the fact that you can provide her with these things.

Someone once told me that it irked the life out of her when her husband stirred his coffee and the spoon clattered on the cup. It wasn't much surprise when she left him a few months later. If she'd felt "true love" for her man she would have loved the sound because it meant he was there with her.

The initial love for your child is pretty well an instinct, a natural response to love and care for your infant so that he/she will carry on the human race. It's a bit frightening how that love can grow to gargantuan proportions over the years. It is terribly unnatural for a woman to fail to feel loving concern for her child.

People often mistake physical attraction for true love. That doesn't mean that it won't develop into true love but they'll have to wait a while to find out.

Love is a precious commodity and we shouldn't tell someone we love them just because it's the fashionable thing to do. Entertainers tell their audiences that they love them and the audience screams with excitement...both sides under a false illusion. People tell their mate they love them because they feel it's expected, not because it's the truth.

I don't remember my family ever telling me they loved me when I was growing up. I know they did but they weren't capable of saying the words. Because of this I stopped telling my children I loved them around the time they became teenagers. One day my daughter, about 25 at the time, was leaving the house and she suddenly turned and kissed me, saying she loved me. That day changed me and loosened up my reserve. I began telling my girls again that I loved them whenever we say goodbye. You never know if you'll have another chance.

True love comes with it's dangers, too, and some of us are cruelly heart broken when the love isn't reciprocated or when it's lost. There's a saying, "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all", and I agree because the moments of joy far outweigh the pain.

My Baby is 49!

Forty-nine years and 1 day ago I gave birth to my first daughter. I was only 17 myself so this little girl had a rough road ahead of her with both of us growing up at the same time.

Kim has always been a pleasure. She was a good little girl, smart, funny, and a talented artist (she got that last part from her father). Any problems we had was because I was an immature mother learning as I went.

She got married at 22 and gave me my first grandchild 4 years later. I don't think anything on this earth had ever made me happier than to have that precious little bundle handed to me. I had matured.

Kim isn't happy that she's reached the ripe old age of 49 and that 50 is laughing in her face but I hope she learns, as I did, that age really and truly is a state of mind. If you're on the far side of 50 and still having fun then you've got it made. You've got all the wisdom of your years and, if you actually were able to go back to your youth, you would probably choose not to.

Youth is just too hard to deal with. Believe me, you need all that strength and stupidity to get through it.

Anyway, chin up Kim. You look great, you're smart, funny, and you've got all of us!

New Baby in the Family

We have a large, loving, and very involved family so it's no wonder that we're all excited about a new baby joining our clan. This little boy or girl (no-one knows or no-one's telling) will make it's arrival some time in October.

My niece sent me pictures of the latest ultrasound and baby is already 12" long so he/she is going to be a tall one. The parents are both tall and gorgeous so we're expecting a pretty fantastic baby.

One of the most wonderful things about a new baby is the softness of their skin. I love to let the little one nestle into my neck because the feel of that brand new baby skin is intoxicating.

Bringing a new baby into the family can solidify that family. We have showers to welcome him/her and all the family congregates in a show of love and support. It's a nice feeling to look around you and see so many people you are connected to by blood or marriage, all there for the purpose of bonding to the new member.

It's usually the women in the family who establish and carry out these early rituals, most of the men being content to wait until the child is old enough to carry on a conversation. But men of today are becoming less intimidated by a newborn and more willing to become involved from the beginning.

I remember when my children and my grandchildren were newborns and how I could sit for hours and just stare at their little faces. The sheer miracle of their presence absolutely fascinated me.

I'm looking forward to nuzzling and staring sometime in October.

Mothers Who Murder Their Children

A young mother in Texas has hung her four children, killing three of them, and then committed suicide. When I read of something like this happening my heart goes out to the mother as well as the innocent children.

Unlike people who kill out of anger, greed, or just for the thrill, I can comprehend why this poor woman did what she did. I can fully imagine the depths of inability to cope anymore and the false conviction that her children would be better off dying with her.

Life can be so difficult and some of it is spent in despair and heartbreak. Luckily most of us are able to survive those moments and things really do get better given time. This woman fell too deeply into that dark pit and it swallowed her up.

In the years I lived with depression there was never a time I considered killing anyone but myself. But I remember being unable to think clearly during the bad times and that's what drove this woman to commit these horrible crimes.

We'll all grieve for the children but let's allow a portion of grief for their poor lost mother, too.

To Kyle...On Native Land Claims

A man named Kyle has been responding to my blogs on native land claims and giving me some interesting history lessons. This blog is directed at him because I don't know any other way of reaching him.

Hello Kyle:

I've been very impressed with your responses. They are heart felt but you haven't shown anger towards me for my views and I'm thankful for that.

Blogging is a way for all of us to put forth our thoughts on many subjects that interest us and one of the biggest threats these days to the peaceful day to day living in Canada is the disruptions by the natives. My goal was to express how these disruptions affect the non-natives of this country.

Please understand, Kyle, that my sympathies have always been with the natives for what they lost 200 years ago. My ancestors didn't arrive in Canada until the early 1900's so they didn't steal anyone's land. In fact, they came to Canada because they lost their own in Ireland and immigrated here to try to rebuild their lives.

Many generations of immigrants came to Canada for just this reason, worked hard, bought land legally, and are responsible for creating the country we have today. Natives, on the other hand, chose to remain on reservations where they stagnated. That is one of the reasons I've hated the reservations because I believe they stifled the growth of the natives.

My understanding of the years native children were torn away from their families and put in residential schools is that religious groups, who had tremendous influence on the government in those days, were the perpetrators. It was one of the most shameful things our government has ever been responsible for and we should never forget it happened. Non-native children in regular orphanages in those years suffered the same hell and we should never forget that, either.

What I'm trying to explain, Kyle, is that this is today, not 200 years ago, and natives can not hold today's citizens hostage to the wrongs done hundreds of years ago. We resent it deeply.

I'm very grateful that you took the time to respond and that you did so with dignity. I hope I've been able to make you understand how the other side feels in this ongoing drama, too.

Google Ads

I've been investigating a bit more of what blogger.com has to offer us bloggers and have noticed that some people have ads on their blogs. I checked into it and managed to figure out how to put ads on mine (they pay) and today I earned 24 cents because 1 person clicked on the ad. Isn't this amazing?

It's also possible that they count the number of people who just read my blog but don't click on the ad and that somehow results in payment, too. It's still quite a mystery to me but at least I'm 24 cents richer today.

The biggest problem with these ads is that I don't get to choose which ones I want. Google just puts them on randomly and at whim depending on what my blog topics have been. Apparently they decided my blogs about the native sit-ins in Caledonia and Hagersville warrant a few ads selling native paraphernalia. They've also put some diaper ads in because I had one blog titled "Just a Diaper Ride Away" about the astronaught who wore a diaper when she went after her boyfriend's lover, and another blog about die-hards wearing diapers at the casino so they don't have to leave their seats. Someone isn't reading the content of my blogs before they assign me an ad.

Anyway, I'm going to play around with my blog titles and see if I can manipulate the ads I get. Like "Condom Minium" or "Death of a Petunia". What fun!

Defining Moments

We have many defining moments in our lives...you know, the ones where the light suddenly comes on and we can see our situation clearly.

Some of the most important ones are the moment when you fall in love, or the moment you know the love has gone. And what about the moment when you realize you've made a life changing mistake? Or even the moment you realize that no matter what you do you're going to fall.

Sometimes the defining moment is just a matter of your mind slipping through all the garbage, hopes, dreams, and mental blindness until you can't escape the truth. Clarity can be startling.

One of the nicest defining moments you can experience is that elusive thought that starts as a tiny seed in your mind until it reaches full bloom and you know that at this moment in time you are happy.

Who's to Blame

I talked to a lady today who is broken hearted because her brother is a drug addict, drug dealer, depressed, and suicidal. She blames his mother, his friends, and his pain (caused by being shot in a drug deal).

At what point should this man take responsibility for his own situation?

Too often we wallow in a mess of our own making and, instead of taking steps to break away, accept that it's too late and there's nothing we can do about it. Been there, done that. Most of us have at one time or another.

Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a supportive family or good friends who lift us up instead of dragging us down. In that case, the onus is on us ourselves to find the strength to crawl out of the hole and succeed against heavy odds.

I have seen people who started out in life with every cross imaginable to bear but they've chosen to become productive adults who now live the good life. They could have settled for what their parents had but they didn't. Where does the strength of character come from in people like these? And why do others fall weakly by the wayside?

I've often wondered how black people manage to succeed when just the color of their skin closes so many doors to them and I've come to the conclusion that the secret is a strong pride in yourself that makes the difference.

If you have enough justifiable pride (not false or arrogant pride), you won't settle for being held down and you won't choose a lifestyle that is harmful to you.

The man I spoke about made many bad choices from childhood on and that's why he is where he is today. We are a product of the choices we make, whether they are for our good or not. And in the end we have to personally accept the credit or the blame for the finished product.

Dogs in the House

I can't believe how much I've enjoyed having my daughter's Jack Russells in the house. I'd forgotten how tuned into you your dog becomes, watching your every move and following you from room to room. I've chattered away to them since they got here and don't know who I'll chatter to when they leave today for their own home.

It's been raining and these dogs don't know enough to steer clear of my garden so I worried they'd track dirt and mud into the house but they stop dutifully when they come in and let me wipe their feet. So cute!

Last night I thought of closing them into the bathroom because I wasn't sure they'd hold their piddle but, because they stay so close to me, decided to have them just sleep on the floor in my bedroom. Baker chose to sleep under the bed and Bailey slept beside the bed with her head under it. So darned cute!

Baker has also settled in and isn't quite as nervous as she was at first. Her little ears have become unclamped from her head, thank heavens. I hate to see a frightened dog or animal of any kind.

Pets are a gift to human beings and good pet owners know how lucky they are to have found their special companion. It's not possible to clearly explain how precious these little creatures are and how much they contribute to our lives. A home without a pet is less of a home.

When little Bailey and Baker leave me today they'll take some of the warmth out of my house. I'll be looking forward to seeing them again real soon!

Still Under the Weather

Well, that good feeling this morning didn't last and now I really feel as though I have the flu. It has apparently hit 2 of the men working in the basement, too, so we must have all caught the same bug. This too shall pass!

I'm babysitting my daughter's 2 little ones tonight. They're cute little Jack Russell terriers but old enough to have lost most of the friskiness that comes with the breed. The nice thing about dogsitting is that they'll nap right along with you if you're not feeling well.

The dogs have vastly different personalities. Bailey is the oldest and most dominant. Nothing much scares her and she's curious as all get out about the men working in the basement.

Baker is very timid. She's given up barking every time she hears the men go in and out of the back door but she still seems to cringe a lot. Even when I reach for her, which breaks my heart. She follows bravely behind Bailey when she goes to investigate anything but never leads the investigation.

My dog, Corky, was timid, too, and didn't like you to stare directly into his eyes. I guess that's an intimidation gesture. That doesn't bother Bailey and Baker, though...they'll come right up to you if they see you looking at them.

It's nice having dogs in the house again. They're a good excuse if you find you're talking to yourself. Just add on to the end of the sentence, "Isn't that right, Bailey?".

So I Slept

Every once in a while I don't feel quite right...you know what I mean? My equilibrium feels slightly off but I can't pinpoint exactly what's wrong.

For the last 2 days I've been desperately needing sleep through the day and that rarely happens so I knew something was going on "inside". Thursday evening I went to bed at 6:30 P.M. and slept till 5:30 A.M. (with 2 interruptions for the bathroom). Then on Friday I slept from noon till 4:30 P.M., played on the computer till 8 P.M. and went back to bed.

Today, Saturday, I feel like my old self. Isn't it wonderful how the body will heal itself if we just rest and let it do it's job?

By the way, I just used spell check and discovered I'm slightly farther from perfect than I'd thought! Thanks to sister-in-law, Joyce, I've just developed a new complex!

More on Native Land Claims

I know I'm not the most knowledgable person when it comes to trying to figure out native land claims but I speak from the heart when I say there has to be an end to the dispruptions before someone else is killed.

All of us have ancestors who were cheated out of their land or property. That's what happened to the poor of every race, nationality, or creed. There's no doubt it was wrong but hundreds of years have passed and it's time to realize that this is a different world and it's impossible to right the wrongs for everyone.

I do know that the natives are perpetuating unfair hardships on all Canadians with their demands. They've taken away a sense of peace and security that we shouldn't have to deal with in the year 2007 for something our ancestors did 200 years ago. To be honest, the natives of that time freely sold land for the money they received. Dollars meant more to them than the "good earth". There is probably not a square foot of the disputed land that today's natives have earned with their own labor.

We're all paying in some way for the mistakes of our ancestors...but we've also gained in many ways from their hard work. Is it too much to ask that we stop all this infighting which is driving our separate cultures apart instead of bringing them together? I can't even imagine how difficult it is for the natives in Caledonia when they leave the reservation and go into town. No-one should have to live that way.

I've always hated the thought of reservations because they secluded a group of people who could have been assimilated into the general population without losing their culture. I truly believe that the reservations are the worst possible places for natives to stay. Segregation breeds hostility. By living among more than one culture we can learn from each other.

Simply put...let's live together in peace and let the past go.

Hagersville Native Land Claim

It seems the natives haven't got much else to do but wander around the country looking to disturb the progress of the working people.

A developer bought land in Hagersville, Ontario to build townhouses but natives quickly occupied the land as one they say they have a claim to. Work was shut down and a developer who thought he'd legally bought the property is now sitting in a limbo created by the Canadian government.

I wonder how many Canadians feel as I do that we have no laws protecting us anymore. Who knows, maybe the home you've lived in for 50 years is sitting on land that the natives will one day decide is theirs. You'll pay property taxes every year you live in your house but, if a native decides it's theirs, not a single level of Canadian government will protect your rights.

I don't want to hear about the government speeding up settlement of native land claims anymore. What I want to hear is that our government, the one our taxes pay for, is going to stop allowing natives to break the laws of the land.

When anyone else feels they have a property claim, they hire a lawyer and sue. There is a trial and the lawsuit is either won or lost. Who ever heard of a trial lasting 200 years? If anything, the natives of 200 years ago had only squatter's rights to the land so why are we in this day and age spending so much time, money, and energy on the native land claims?

It's been evident that we don't know exactly what is involved in the native claims and why natives have been allowed to constantly break the laws without punishment but when will it end? If a decision is made that they won't accept (or their descendents 200 years down the road won't accept) then the sit-ins and disruptions will go on forever unless they are made to abide by the law just as the rest of us are.

It's time the Canadian government took a stand so that the rest of it's citizens can regain assurety that OUR rights will be protected.

Stomach

My sister-in-law, Joyce mentioned yesterday that she has always wondered why I spelled "stomach" wrong. I argued with her that I'd never spelled "stomache" wrong and she didn't know what she was talking about.

Then we got out the dictionary and I had to admit I wasn't perfect.

Maybe I should use the spellcheck doodledad on this page before I publish it but then I'd be really perfect and hard to live with.