Eat Garbage

Garbage day at my house is about eating garbage, well, almost. Sometimes when things in your fridge are too old, you throw them out even though there is still hope. I had some apples that went into the fridge early last summer and there they stayed. I didn't panic because I remembered that on my grandparent's farm, apples and lots of fruits and vegetables were kept in the root cellar and although not as pretty as when they were plucked or foraged, they were edible. They were food. And they were used. And they were delicious. One of my peeves is throwing out food. Hope it's yours, too. My four apples were destined for a cobbler using that quickie boxed biscuit mix for the topping. Enhanced of course. I didn't peel the apples due to my belief that it's where the flavour lives, and taking out the little bad spots, quartered and cored them, slicing the whole into a bowl with  lemon juice.When I cut into one, there were two little white worms about half an inch long, whose home, the core with seeds, I had just destroyed. I ugh-ed a bit and then admired these little beings for living so long and obviously healthfully inside the core. Such resilience! The rest of the apple looked firm and juicy so I removed the core along with the little worms whom I now admired for their tenacity and wrapped their tiny white lengths in newspaper for the composter where I hoped they'd survive.It made me appreciate that as long as we have such creatures in our environment, it must be viable. No poisons hurt the little guys and I certainly wasn't going to do anything other than establish them anew in a landfill somewhere.  Also last summer, I had a couple of baskets of strawberries that began to turn mushy. Into the freezer they went at the time and now out they came. With cinnamon and the brown sugar and lemon juice mixed with the apples, they'd make an interesting cobbler. When they were done, topped with some sour or ice cream or yoghurt, they'd be yummy! I guess the point I am making is that we should try to use leftovers because they are not only real and useful food that is still nutritious,  they also help save the planet. When I go into the fridge determined to use up what lurks in the back somewhere but is still good, or find the murky packages of food that separate the other things in the freezer, I want to use them. They are food. My son, a single guy now, says he hates wasting food. He does soups for his Garbage Day. And they are easy and tasty. My strawberry apple cobbler is sending fragrant reminders of summer throughout my home and my heart is happy that I didn't just throw them out.  What do you create at your house on Garbage Day,  the day you decide to clean out the fridge or cooler and dutifully use what's there?

Dear Adsters

Ads have to be there, but if you're like me, you pay little attention to them. If I could write a letter to the ad folks, it would go something like this. Dear Adsters, I find most, nay, all of your ads unappealing. It isn't because of the product necessarily, or the cost you go to in putting out these things. It's the interruption that gets me. Your nuisance ads that are shown during commercial television runs, are so repetitive that not only do I either get up and go away, or I mute them. I have given up on all of commercial television because, really, I prefer the stations I have to pay for. It's all because of you. One day recently, while baking bread or some other kitchen matter, and to ease away the kneading and prep time, I turned on regular television.  I haven't watched it for months but because I thought I'd dip into  Dr. So and So and that ilk, to pass the time, I might  see something new. Nothing was new and the ads between the few minutes of the actual "show" were insultingly rampant. They were like basketball shots: fast, colourful, numerous and too iffy to have any real meaning. Another session during which I was waiting for the dryer to finish, I sat down to pick up one of my past favorite series. Much as I once loved the sitcom, I had to stop and and return to my pay channel where I am not bothered by continuous ads. I simply couldn't stand the interruptions where ads  nagged at me every few minutes taking away any pleasure or purpose in watching for an hour, a half hour show. Why should I waste my time being forced to look at the same ads flicking away repeatedly every few minutes. Talk about water drip torture! The bottom line is I DON'T CARE for your ads and I DON'T WANT THEM.  I care even less for the product because you, insult me. Once is enough. I get it! When I go to my computer and click on a news or other  video, again, I have to suffer through x seconds of ad before seeing it. Dreadful, that a vital world report or issue, before you can access it, has an ad attached. What is happening in the news industry? It can't be taken seriously when beer ads precede an insurrection or tragedy, for example. While I wait to see if a war is occuring or a rocket has blasted off into space, I have to view a fashion magazine ad with a couple of airbrushed  twenty year olds whose eyes look like dead codfish. No, I don't want the fashion magazine and even if I did, please stop with the faces. Ugh. Ad people, if you want my support for your product, advice is: overkill kills, don't entertain, inform me, once is enough. Now to watch a blue-ray movie - without interruption. Oh, was that an ad?

No Guns At All

What would be so hard about a No Guns At All law? Sadly, nay tragically, the outrage in a country that says it doesn't like or want guns, would be enormous. Some would cry that they need them to protect themselves. But the same people only think they need them and they "need" them only because they think they are being threatened by them. This isn't a gun happy country that has laws saying it's your right to have guns. A gun is a killer. It's only purpose is to cause death or possible injury. For some, such as gangs, it's meant as a threat mainly.  Gangs brag about their weaponry as though it is their strength. Those who fear join gangs for powers they think will give them protection in that company in the name of its gun use and gun power. Gang motivation is to rule and it's not done with brains or brawn but with killer weapons. The reports of gang shootings are becoming a daily event. It is increasing, not abating and spray bullets can injure the innocent.  Sport hunters, too, are no longer necessary to the world of "sport". There is nowhere in this country that requires one even to kill animals for food. In fact, it isn't safe to eat the stuff any more. Wild meat is not inspected for disease or vermin and it doesn't taste very good either. I have tried it. Yuk. I know of no one who has to kill for meat. Hunters kill animals because they get kicks out of killing and being with others who love the same silliness. There is no other other excuse.  I've been to the farthest reaches of this country and if you have a kitchen or home at all, there is a store of some kind in reach. If you have flour and oil in the kitchen, there is no reason to hunt, you can buy farm meat. Even if you like wild tasting meat you can buy it where it is raised by responsible farmers, therefore that's no excuse. Guns are just not needed. Law makers and conservation officers may need guns but that is largely because there are illegal guns. Police and security people have knowledge of all sorts of other ways to get control in a situation over using guns. It's part of their training. Really, what would happen if guns suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth? The answer is simple and true. There would be fewer gun shot injuries and deaths, riots, gangs, wars and mindless killings.

Likes

How many "likes" or "friends" are to some, the vital sum of their popularity. For whatever that's worth. And what precisely is popularity worth? Being a favorite of many doesn't mean anything, really, at least not to the "friends" or the "likes".  It means something only to the individual who is busily counting the checks to pad up their egos. In high school, as it often turns out, the popular students whom we all strive to be, on leaving, often don't amount to anything. They, the spoiled darlings of the school, can't hack the real world beyond the brick walls. They find that the university, for those who can afford it, is a huge place where a high school charmed face and popular status, don't mean a thing. In my experience in high school, the prom kings and queens, no longer worshipped, often dropped out of their universities, opted to get married and begin families, took jobs they didn't need years of expensive student loans to access, went into businesses that either failed or struggled along. None, that I recall became famous. The nerds and geeks, however, made it and had the courage and stamina to get the loans and work hard for their educations to become in their ways, those with fellowships in fine institutions and a few actually did become rich and famous.  Counting "likes" does not a king make, nor a Prime Minister nor a billionaire. It takes talent, luck and sometimes parental money but mostly, it's just work, work, work. Being an original thinker is key. Some of our cybersphere young who, at school are thought of as nobodies, spend time dreaming up games or other artistic or scientific endeavors and quietly strive to achieve those dreams. They don't do it out of being popular amongst their peers or ensuring that they look and think exactly like the rest of "the gang". They are more. Often branded odd and loners, they are too busy pursuing their real ambitions to bother about opinions as to "what" or "who" they are. Their positive dreams absorb their attention and the way to achieve those dreams becomes their mission in life. It doesn't mean that they ignore their peers or shun their company, it simply means that they have learned a balance in their lives and how to gain  their goals that override popularity and "fitting in" by wearing the latest garb or behaving in the most often copied ways. They are different.  While they are branded and often pushed away, they determine that what they are going for  means more than a few years of high school hype. It reaches beyond  to a lifetime of what really matters so that they can become positive influences, however small or large, in the broader world. "Likes" don't count.

Cool It

Most of us of an age, live in condos and most condos have windows albeit large, only on one side of our homes. (Yes, a condo is a home but one whose ownership is the entire building, maintenance and all.) No cross drafts to be had. Now that we know air-conditioning of some kinds, emits carbon into the air which is something none of us want to do, we learn the secrets of keeping cool in hot weather. Everyone has his or her favorite solutions but mine is to go to bed late and get up early and sleep during the hot parts of the day. I have fans, four of them, one that goes back and forth and the others are placed in strategic positions to distribute air evenly around my space. I open all the windows in the morning to allow the cool air to enter my westside unit. When the sun comes over the deck, I open my umbrella and shut all of the shutters. During the early afternoon, I take a nap or what our southern friends call a siesta. Not only is it mentally refreshing, it allows my body to use little energy thus alleviating hot weather stress. The siesta also gives me extra awake time to spend during the evenings or nighttimes when I sit on the deck after the sun goes down behind the building next to me. I do any work in the mornings but none in the afternoon and I seldom go out to ply the hot concrete sidewalks. That is for mornings and late afternoons when the sun is down. Well, not "down" but you know what I mean. I dress in light, cool wear preferably cottons. I wear sandals or sneakers or go bare footed. I try not to do anything that causes the blood pressure to elevate. I banish stress from my life. We don't use our mind control often enough to heal whatever kinds of stresses we own. And we do own stress. It's a choice, even when our situations are dire. Stress and heat don't go well together and finding a way to relieve the first, helps with the second. Move slowly if at all during the hot days and if possible, find a fan to waft its breezes over you. Your body perspires to cool you off and a fan will take care of that. Do drink a lot of cool water or juices of a non-alcohol kind. I love cucumber water with celery added but you can experiment with whatever berry or veggie suits your taste buds. I am not a fan of lettuce leaves or what I call rabbit food but I do love chunky salads with cheese and nuts and fruit under a mayo that I herb or sweeten with honey or vinegar. Again experiment. Your taste buds will tell you which mix sits. Enjoy the sun, however, but briefly so that your Vitamin D is the real thing and not something you read on a label. Sooo. Whew! Warm. It's time for the nap.

You The Farmer

We're all farmers in some way. Each one of us being responsible for the planet we live on, have taken on, whether we like it or realize it or not, the role of farmers. A farmer grows things be it animals or plants. Farmers are nurturers of continuation. Our job in a concrete jungle, the suburbs or in the wilds of a province can also nurture nature even in the smallest way. I live in a city, so, I say, how on earth can I be called a farmer? What I, personally can do, as one thing, is, on my deck provide a small container or bird bath or other object that holds water. I watched a bee or wasp come to share my lunch the other day. I didn't make any move to prevent it doing so, but when its hive mates were alerted and came also, I moved my food indoors to eat. They left. My policy is to harm none of these creatures that are also inhabitants of earth and have their needs as I do. Without swatting them which could cause them to defend themselves and sting, I moved slowly unlike an enemy and we both passed in peace. When I came back outside to enjoy my coffee, I watched a bee go to the edge of my bird bath and delicately sip a drink of water. I had put it there for butterflies, bees and other insects so that they might survive and pollination will continue. Not only bees pollinate blossoms, but also do other insects. On my deck I grow a "hedge" of small cypress trees and while it is work watering them when they need to drink, they provide shade and privacy for me but they also allow shelter for small insects such as spiders. I don't remove all spider webs but allow small spiders because spiders feed on aphids that eat on my herbs. And I do love my tiny collection of herbs. I have very few, but I use them fresh in small pieces.  It pleases me to feel that I can grow this tiny amount for myself. Again this year, I planted runner beans to savour not only the taste of the few that thrive but also the sight of their gorgeous red blossoms and amazing vines that grow so fast and go everywhere they can. Fascinating. My pot of herbs are slow to come ahead but when I receive my packet of chive seeds, there will be a competition to see which will win. I am not much into flowers but my tall, exotic and very leafy white lilies that must be related to Jack In The Pulpits are in the summer holidayed outside. The long white spears spring up and surprise me with their rapid and rampant bloomings. Another delightful tiny star-like white flower is the sweet alyssum that when it establishes, comes back year after year. I like to plant it to collar my small hedging trees.  The scent is delightful and they bloom continuously. I am too old to fuss with big pots of blooms and complicated florals, so I keep it simple. Composting is also being a farmer for earth as is avoiding the use of things that harm the air. We farmers know what to do. We just have to make sure we are good farmers.

Ambi D Useful

In times previous, schools tried to change left-handed children into right-handers. It didn't work and certainly confused the poor youngsters who suffered under this kind of treatment. While it was meant to do no harm but used, they thought, to help the children cope in a right-handed world, surprisingly it did just that. I know individuals who can use either hand or arm to bat a ball, deal with a tennis racquet or badminton one, to swing a golf club, or among other things, to sew a seam. Those of us who are right-handed don't have to think about it much. Scissors, bats, golf clubs and a host of other tools are made for right-handed use. If you don't believe me, pick up a pair of scissors and try to cut some paper with your "other" hand. See? It can be done, but your "other" hand has to get the technique down first. The children whose left hands were converted to right, may be those adults you know who when driving and finding a locale, are told constantly :"No, it's the other right". There is  evident confusion. But the same children learned that there are many common tasks they can accomplish using either hand and sometimes both.  There are also those of us, as I am currently, victims of injury situations called muscle challenged, rotator cuff or shoulder spasms  and because of the pain, are forced to become ambidextrous. We don't want to, but it's easier than not being easily able to reach the honey jar on the shelf or the back container in the fridge or stir up the pancakes  without nasty pain. I have learned to use my left hand to either assist or to carry out tasks usually done with the right. I can't say that I do a perfect job of it but I do try and as awkward as it feels, it works and I know now, it can be done.  It's amazing how adaptable we can be if only we try. Granted, it isn't comfortable to learn to use both hands, but it's first, the mind that needs to be changed, not just the handedness movements. When you think of all the people who have had to learn how to walk again after an accident or use a limb prosthetic or after a stroke, to regain use of limbs or digits, we learn that it is not impossible to become both handed or ambidextrous. Again, convincing your mind that you can do it, is the first step. Attitude changing is a skill that's useful in many ways. Once you find you can change your attitude easily, there is little that you cannot deal with. I've learned how to iron, mix batter, hammer, use a screwdriver and handle cooking tools with my "other" hand. At times, I am so accustomed to it, that I kind of forget and use whatever hand happens to get there first. We are born with two hands for a reason.

Retro Me. Please!

"The world is too much with us, late and soon", Wordsworth's poetic take on his times seems to apply  to us this day. Mass killings of the innocent,  leaders of countries drunk with power, a collapse of morality in the name of "freedom" and, well, take the world news. If you dare. I want to retro into times when it was not so. Yes, there were most of the dreadful happenings then as now, but they were not as much smeared in our faces with moving depictions and emotional comment as there is now. We could read about them and hear about them in reports but in a time frame that allowed for consideration. There was time to absorb and adjust and contemplate the meaning and how to reconcile the feelings that affected our own lives. Today there is "too much with us" and a barrage of horrors at us constantly in full colour and sound. Stop, I say. Stop. And then I realize, I am the one who has to make it stop and it's very simple. It lies right under my fingers. I can turn it off and turn on something good and beautiful and true, or go outside and look into a tree or over a stretch of grasses and flowers or just gaze the blueness or clouds in the sky. Even the feeling of rain on my face. I think of the days when kids had no plastic or television or computers. Education happened at school where the desks were in straight rows and we did what the teacher said and loved it all. Our parents didn't bother with us when we went into the yard to play climbing trees and fishing in the little streams or going down the street to talk to neighbours or into stores to buy penny candy. We laughed at the cartoons in the thick weekend newspapers that were long and had full articles that were written in fine English and we loved our leaders because that's what was done. We didn't see people in categories, they looked different than us but that's the way it was and no one argued about it. Sure, I grew up as an ordinary kid in an ordinary neighbourhood and maybe that seems privileged but I loved it and I loved all the people around me because no one told me about hate. I didn't have parents that told me how to think. They took care of us, my sister and I, and most of the time we were left to make our own plans and days. When we graduated high school we got jobs and decided on careers and had to work if we wanted to go to universities. The cost was something that could be earned. When we found our life's work, we started at the bottom and tried to get to the top. We lived at home until we could afford a place of our own. Our employers liked us and we liked them. We stayed until it was time to retire with our gold watches and cut glass bowls in hand. Along the way, we met the person we loved and would spend our lives with to become good citizen parents and grandparents. Okay, death came along, too, but it was all natural and sort of expected. It was all very simple. Then.