It’s been 7 years since I’ve been on my own. I’ve treated it like the heroine from Titanic. I’ve travelled, laughed, danced and loved my family and …Seven Year Swear
I copied this from a cousin’s post on Facebook and think these are words that need to be spread.
I have been wearing a mask in stores (and limiting my trips) since March when this whole thing went down.
I’m not sure how being considerate to others for the common good is now being mocked by some who are calling it “living in fear”, but it needs to stop….
When I wear a mask over my nose and mouth in public and in the stores/Supermarkets/Pharmacies/Offices – I want you to know the following:
📷 I’m educated enough to know that I could be asymptomatic and still give you the virus.
📷 No, I don’t “live in fear” of the virus; I just want to be part of the solution, not the problem.
📷 I don’t feel like the “government controls me”. I feel like I’m an adult contributing to the security in our society and I want to teach others the same.
📷 If we could all live with the consideration of others in mind, the whole world would be a much better place.
📷 Wearing a mask doesn’t make me weak, scared, stupid or even “controlled”. It makes me caring and responsible.
📷 When you think about your appearance, discomfort, or other people’s opinion of you, imagine a loved one – a child, father, mother, grandparent, aunt, uncle or even a stranger – placed on a ventilator, alone without you or any family member allowed at their bedside…..Ask yourself if you could have helped them a little by wearing a mask.
It’s getting to be that time of year. Warm days tinged with just a hint of approaching Autumn though no trees of colour noted yet. After all it is early September here in Southwestern Ontario.
Bronze Helmets represent fallen firefighters from our area.
But September is also a time of remembering. In a world filled with tragedy on a daily basis 9/11 remains the one that struck so many of us, American and non-American. It was a wake up call of sorts I guess, alerting us to Horror and Hope.
The other day I took a walk, as I do, aiming for that 10,000 step threshold to health. I was going to Central Library, strolling down a street with old trees and old very large houses when I came to the corner of Margaret and Queen and noticed a small park sort of nestled in the area of Centre in the Square, of The Art Gallery, apartment buildings, and beside the library.
Having nothing to do I decided to stroll through this pocket sized park that sported a sculpture in the middle. Unsure exactly what it was, (we have some truly baffling sculptures here and there in the city) I approached cautiously.
My jaw dropped as I did a 360. I had no idea how long it had been there at that point but knew I had to find out.
The sculpture was done by Timothy P. Schmaltz, a Canadian sculptor in 2008 to honour those killed in the line of duty.
As I followed the pathway I came across a rusted bit of iron and at first I grimaced. Who would place this here amongst this beauty. Then I read the plaque.
The rusted metal beam is from New York City’s fallen World Trade Center and is 3.43 metres long. The length is purposeful since 343 firefighters were killed that day.
Steel from the World Trade Center has been sent world wide, even as far as China for Memorials. It certainly has a fitting home in our Memorial Park.
The photos here are from winter (obviously) and of course my stroll was in the heat of a 28C day. The photos are from the publication Under The Sun and the park, if you are in the area is at 101 Queen St. N. Kitchener, Ontario, N2H 6P1, Canada.
P.S. Mr. Schmaltz I gotta say, I like your work.
Way back in 2011 as a very new blogger, and before this site was created I posted on my other site –
“I have just finished reading the novel Vintage Red by Michael Judge.
The introductory blurb says: “Racy, blackly comic; laced with wit, both dry and expansive; a wicked ear for dialogue; cuts through to the bone, exposing venality of church and state – just a sample of the praise that greeted the arrival of this impressive first novel.” and “An original new voice and a breathtaking achievement”.
The story tells the story of a property magnate who finds after his wife’s death that she lead a disturbing life that he knew nothing about. Throughout the book, we read about this other life and also about the husband’s domestic failings, his public amorality and his personal hypocrisy.
We learn how the wife meets a shy school teacher one afternoon…
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I have had experience with Judith’s Memory Lane course and it is easy and fun. It is meant for the next generations so you don’t have to sound like an author, you just have to sound like you, sharing your memories with loved ones.
Hey, hey.it’s Saturday again. Time for Six Word Saturday
I am sorry to say that the site no longer exists, but some of us are continuing with Six Word Saturday. Please join us for a bit of. fun.
My six words are in the title if this post. “To live in lives we leave behind, is not to die.”
Judith Baxter 1938 –
In 2009 I devised and have since run a course on Memory Witing, This is not to write your life story, but to record your memories to pass on to future generations. But now, after so many years, the time came for the workbook to be updated. And now it has been,
The course is ideally, run as a group, but sometimes I have had people who either didn’t have the time or the desire to work in a group, and so they have successfully worked…
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Sometimes change surprises me. And I ask myself, If change is not planned, is it then chance?
I think there are subtle changes constantly as time goes on. It may be a subtle as adapting to how we do things. Perhaps due to physical changes as we grow and age, or it may be a change in attitude or perspective. With or without external influence because, of course, it could be due to internal influences.
I was surprised to realize changes I had made. Without consciously planning – I think.
On this moist Saturday morning here in sunny southwestern Ontario, humidity was 100%, I awoke to some thoughts. Of course. Those who have followed me know I have this thing about first morning thoughts being the best and brightest of the day.
The most astounding change, which for some reason only occurred to me during the ‘brightest thoughts of the day’ moment was realizing MY changes of late. For example, FB gives a voice to anyone who signs on, billions I think, and it gives a voice without thought or reason. No filter necessary. It’s a reactionary voice. See a post – react. Reminds me of the instructions on shampoo bottles – shampoo, rinse, repeat. Reactionary posts, in my mind, are most often inflammatory.
I had gotten into a despicable habit, thought to really be a public service, until I really thought about it. Damn, ‘thought’ does change things. Whenever I read a news article about some outrageous thing I would post it on FB. And as you know while I used to call out perceived injustices in many things, there suddenly appeared someone on the world stage who provided fodder not just daily but sometimes hourly.
The end result was I felt like um, well you can guess. Then I came across some more positive things to share and without realizing it I discovered I was feeling much better about the things.
See? Change without planning. Quite nice.
Another change that just seemed to evolve but I did not realize until my ‘brightest thoughts’ this morning is the way I carry out my day. I am a huge advocate for GOALS. But only thought about them daily and never really and truly did anything about them.
Then as simple as rolling over in bed I started doing somethings differently. My usual routine had been to wake, pick up my iPad, check emails etc, play a game and contemplate my schedule for the day. ( A biggie when one is retired.) Then one morning a few days ago a ‘brightest’ thought drifted across my brain – what if I did not look at my iPad but first got up, had breakfast, and carried on. The first couple of times I chose to ignore said thought, but one adventurous morning followed that thought. And it has made quite a change to my creativity, which is always best first thing. *Since I am blogging instead of vegging – it seems it was a good idea.
There are quite a few subtle changes I realize, and I won’t list them, but there are a couple of wise thoughts that repeat of late:
‘Do not believe everything you think.’ As Louise Penny’s, Armand Ganache says, in ‘A Great Reckoning’
‘Three things to take care – Of whom you speak, To whom you speak, and when, and why, and where,’ A paraphrase from Judith Baxter of ‘I choose how I will spend the rest of my life’ when she spoke of sayings her mother taught her.
There is a new project of sorts I have started. It came from one of those blurby things on FB and I can’t refer you to it except it was about Headlines we read. Pretty grim these days and instead of READING headlines to MAKE your own headline each day. For instance: AGING WOMAN DISCOVERS CHANGE FOR THE BETTER NOT ONLY POSSIBLE BUT RELATIVELY PAINLESS.
It becomes real personal real fast when you know those caught up in it.
They’ve began daily marches down my street….
The rallying cry…
“NYPD suck my dick”
Which is a really good chant as they’ve synchronized their cadence….
And they’ve kept the trash in the cans as they’ve set it on fire…
Any uncontainered trash has just been thrown in the street…
Fingers crossed…no broken windows or looting
On my street anyway…
This is just my reflection on the matter.
This is what I see, and hear, out my bedroom window.
Graham, McConnell et al, have subverted Democracy in Allegiance to One Who Has Killed America and in doing so have failed to govern, spending time digging up bones instead of taking care of its citizens. This is not the time for silence. Every voice must be heard. We are witnessing Civil War and the end of a civilization. Congress has equal power to the president. A stop gap, a guard to insanity but have chosen to throw their lot in with The Destroyer. A country is dying before our eyes. And the danger is The Poison spawned by Donald J. Trump Destroyer will spread. Has already spread. There is no United in The United States of America anymore. Goodbye America.
“It is a serious thing just to be alive
on this fresh morning, in this broken world.”
Along with the rest of the world, our plans for Easter this year have had to be abandoned. This was to be a special Easter. My baby girl was having a special birthday on the 11th April, the Saturday of Easter. She was born four days before Good Friday and often since then, Easter has been around her birthday.
But now 60 years later (can I possibly be that old?) I had booked a cottage in one of the wine-growing regions for us.
My daughter, her two sons and girlfriends (if they wished) would all sally forth on Good Friday, spend three nights there and then head back home. We would spend our days wandering the vineyards and sampling the wines. We have a built-in driver as my daughter doesn’t drink…
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Some mornings, especially on Sundays, and especially this Easter Sunday, I am moved to reach back to a quieter simpler time. As a child, Easter mornings brought along with chocolate and decorated eggs a new outfit for each of us five children. Suits and ties for the two boys and cute dresses, gloves, hats and purses for the three girls. Not an easy accomplishment in those days.
So this morning I arose thinking that I would dress up. Not for church, or family gathering, but just for the heck of it.
So by mid-morning I had showered, done my hair, my makeup, and was sipping my coffee thinking that this indeed would be a day with no work, no chores, no shopping (easily done in these days of isolation and hunkering down).
I would read, knit, listen to audiobooks, perhaps a movie (if Jesus Christ Superstar plays) and I would look darn good doing it.
So some thoughts whilst all this was happening. Into my 7th decade I realized a few things.
FACT: It takes a lot longer to ‘dress up and look better than it used to. * That’s okay I have the time.
FACT: It seems there is a 100% chance of slopping. That includes cooking and eating. *Geez
That took my thoughts to ‘clothing protection’. I think I was in the shower when I started thinking about Dinner Jackets. Like this:
Yes my mind did include JB. (That’s James Bond Judith, not Baxter!)
It occurred to me that centuries ago dinner jackets were worn by men so they did not slop on their clothes while eating. Research did not bear this out alas.
Should I even dress? Up?
Well sure so my Dinner Jacket idea became this:
Not exactly the same thing but….
Except mine does not exactly look like this. It is white and rather worn (the kindest description I could think of). But oh my when I take it off I will be lovely. (it’s all about perception folks!)