Brain Game Cards

 Bridge is a superb card game that unfortunately has its experts attempting to turn all players into winners. How they do it, is by instructing them in how to perform certain machinations so that their opponents cannot fail but to lose. I don't understand how that's making the game enjoyable. Maybe it's first because I am not a machine, and second that I am not fixed on getting a big end score. My feeling of triumph is when I don't necessarily play by the book or make long drawnout delays planning every play before I lay down a card. No. My feelings of game victory, is in the play. Very often I lose by a point or two but feel most satisfied that I exacted a certain move because I read it well. Bridge players who regard the game as an ego builder in plying the entire convention roster or agonizing over every hand to hopefully beat their opponents, make me sad. It's not what I love about Bridge. I love that it is a game much like poker, only far more subtly so. At the poker table, if brain waves could be seen and emotions fly in colour, what a gorgeous display it would be. The ability to read every nuance of the other player's faces seems to be what poker players work at. If they do this, they are often awarded much respect if not money. Or matchsticks or pennies, whatever their pots are. My favorite sort of play in Bridge is online. I am told that it is legitimate in that the players are actual people, but something tells me that's not quite true. If so, why is it that the Ace or the King is always placed with an opponent to my disadvantage and is usually on my right. When you are sitting fourth player in a round, it's a dream if you are holding what you hope is a strong hand and being in that position, can triumphantly slap down the winning card at the end. But in all card games unless there is a very good cheat on hand, it is the cards that win almost every time. A bad hand is impossible. Not always, but usually. When you are dealt a low hand for rounds at a time, one look and you know it's over before it has begun. But with half-a-chance-hand and really good instincts, one has a chanceto win it. But you'd better pay attention. My game is hand by hand. I am not keen on worrying about the end score but rather, the pleasure of seeing a well played hand. Mine or theirs. 

Designer Chat

The techies think they have the world in control when they show you a list of  what to say. Humans no longer entirely control the air waves since the "convenience" of online everything arose. I am, or was, a firm believer in online shopping because one needn't drive a car somewhere, try to find a parking space and then search for the right size or shape for hours on end in various locations. I still favour online shopping for convenience, but it, too, has problems. Today my phone rang at four thirty in the morning and a delivery person wanted me to open the door to accept a package. What? Four thirty AM? I went on line and called Customer Service to remind them that I am human and need my sleep.  The disembodied phone voice for the service, apologised and told me that the number was changed and for me to go online for the service I requested. I did so. My computer showed me a page that asked me to select what number of stars I would award for the service and to make a comment. I clicked on "comment". A list of comments appeared, none fitting my situation or one that was anywhere near my issue.  I have learned always to say "agent" or dial "O" to the inhuman voice, and if that works, I get someone from a faraway land speaking in an accent that requires I listen very carefully to try and understand. I'm not racist; it's a simple fact that I speak my native language when I shop just as they do. But we have business to do. In one incident, the Customer Service agent asked me to go back on line where once again I found a list of designer responses to click on. None fit. Oh well, there is another help. It's a cute little icon in the bottom right hand corner called "Chat". I have tried Ms or Mr Chat and when their list of choices don't fit, Chat asks me to frame my words in some other way. I try. No luck. I am asked to check my spelling. Finally, even though I have a degree in English speech, I can't make sense with Chat. Chat thanks me and refers me to its page on line. Here we go again.  Should I be re-wired or charged or plugged in? I am flesh and blood, something "old fashioned", but I need a real human being. Are any left?

Menu Deluxe

 Not long ago, I made myself what I thought was a wonderful stir fry complete with no MSG. It's an enemy of mine. And if you're like me, do not trust "no MSG added" on the bottle - it means there is MSG in it - but "natural". Natural or not, I can't eat it because it sends me into immediate shock and down I fall. In fact I am suddenly allergic to soy in any form. Four percent of adults have this. These days apparently more children are seeing food allergies. Why, is a mystery but they are dreadful experiences if you've ever suffered them. My new eating plan is two fold. It's not for everyone. First I do not eat until two in the afternoon which I am told is fasting. I don't eat because I am not hungry even though I do love my morning flavoured coffee with whipped cream and a teaspoon of honey. Second, eating is a different style now. While enjoying my morning coffee, I prepare my food "trough" for the day. My new food plan is mostly raw vegetables, home made mayo dip with a dash of sweet hot sauce, and an array of every vegetable I can find in the fridge. Today my long narrow tray holds, seaweed crackers, small cheese cubes, the dip forementioned, and all raw: strips of carrot, tiny tomatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, sweet onion, red pepper, celery, turnip, and grapes plus my own cooked meat that, today, is pork chop diced into cubes with the fat cut off - mostly. I call the long black plastic tray, my trough. It looks like a party tray and that feels luxurious. My trough sits out all day as I graze! The dessert is something odd. I have a tiny baker called a cake pop maker. Into it I put cake mix: small portions of any mix that looks interesting. One cake mix makes dozens and dozens of them. I keep mine in a pretty large glass container on the counter and take out some, top them with frosting or melted chocolate and dust them with chopped nuts or flaked coconut. My desserts are tiny but nice. No more do I shun cooking a "whole meal" or feeling too "full" to eat much and then, toss out some. Bon appetite!  

Kids Or No Kids

 An article that came out recently examined the fact that more men stated they wanted children than women. What is surprising about that? Men do not birth children; they want to be fathers. Isn't that a difference? Being a mother is not only birthing the child, but almost always taking most of the responsibility for the infant's personal care. Even with maternity leaves which are never long enough to rear  youngsters with so many early childhood needs, daily child care is exhausting. I had one child after working at a profession for six years and was able to take another six years to spend with my child in our marriage. How times have changed! I loved being a mother because I had the advantage of time.We had a house when mortgages were low enough to afford and could quickly be paid off.  Working for the six years allowed us to carefully consider  rearing a child in all of its aspects. It sounds like a fairy tale because it happens so seldom now. Most mothers with small children (and many mother/fathers) have to leave their little ones with others and go off to work. Frankly, I don't know how they manage being mothers and workers. Some parents are single and have more than one child. When I was at home with my child, I found most of it concerned with housework, child care and a social life along with my husband. It wasn't rushed or stressful because there was time for planning and finding ways of making family life good. And we weren't rich. I can see in lots of ways why women today don't favour having children in their partnerships. If they have a career it's complicated because most careers are not eight hour days but much more. That men "want" children should first show that they will be full participants in the child care, not merely what has to do with putting in money. Kids are  hands-on love by both parents. That is what makes family.

Schools: The World

 School is where the minds of tomorrow reside. Not enough attention is paid to them, their workers and their impact. Most parents gratefully send their kids off every morning for someone else to mind. There are a few who place political worth on what is presented there but the majority take for granted something hugely more important. Here in Canada, with our open doors to all other nations in welcoming them and their offspring to partake in our tax based instutions, along with those who are also immigrants of long standing to this country founded by ancient peoples, we become a country of the world. Our children, all of them, absorb what happens in  schools. Good parents make sure that they stay invoved with what is being shown and spoken of and allowed with that knowledge given, however minute, and participate in the place where their children spend most of their waking day. They want something personal for their kids but they also want their kids to be open to the world. Others see it only as a babysitting service so that they can go to work for the whole family to survive. The latter kind of parent is not a bad parent, it is a tired one but their presence is needed, too. The crux of all education begins at home no matter what the outside influences are. Love is where it begins, not laws or rules or "we do it this way- period". Love extends to all humans because we are all one creature and we must fit together to survive. Schools are precious places, as precious as churches and court houses and hospitals. For here is our future. It isn't a philosophical idea, it's a fact. One finds in school, a social placement that helps form a life. Our leaders in all fields were molded in part in some way, in schools: home schools, boarding schools or other naturally formed schools. Family influences are not the only child's future mantra. Most schools try to offer a broad outlook that includes all peoples and their ways. It should be the most open and democratic venue there is to avoid confusion in the child. Young minds will find their way and make their choices no matter what outside forces think they are applying. Schools try to keep the fields broad enough and hopefully unbiased enough to allow minds to think freely. For their futures.

Car Go

Being someone who doesn't like driving,  and also that I have little need to go out driving since I am a happy online shopper for just about everything I need, one day I decided to sell my car.  It was a darling car: dashing red convertible sports car. And truly, I do miss it. But it sat most of the time in its underground space all alone and feeling abandoned, or so it told me, when I went down to wash it.  A couple of times, I had to call service to come and charge up my battery because it had died just sitting there. The third time, was the last time. Bye bye Mustang. Not having a car pleases me enormously although it may not delight my dear relatives and friends who either have to visit me or take me out in their cars. I am a good passenger, however, and pay my way. The only sad sacks are the people who think that I "lost" my license. I have to assure them that I still have it, but have no intention of meeting up with the car insurance folk and car repair persons again. They cost too much. I love cabbing everywhere. The cost is almost zilch. I live close to a big mall where most of the services I use and need, exist. I also feel that I am doing my part in not burning up the atmosphere using fossil fuels only to keep a car battery charged. It is surprising how many other seniors I speak with, agree. They also have cars they hardly ever use. When I ask them why they keep their cars, the answers are usually "yes, I really ought to get rid of my car". It makes me wonder just how many people my age, keep a car - just because. A few say that they like to run around every day in their cars to pick up groceries and while in the stores,  have a little visit with everyone. That to me, doesn't make sense. Perhaps it is because I am not a gad about as it used to be called in The Day. My grocery delivery right to my door, is marvellous and so easy when I can order online and even then, read the labels should I choose to. For clothing, I can go online to any outlet and find the right size and colour and design. Since I know the manufacturers, the fit is also good. Each outlet does supply a scale of measurments of course.  As for other personal appointments, these can be reached by taxi. Best of all, I no longer have to wash a car!

  

Follow Up Missing

 It's all very well to toss money at a problem and call it fixed. But where is the follow-up to see that the money worked or is working? We read and watch and hear, every day, how government funding and donations are given and how thrilled everyone is about the large amounts. Where is the follow up? Reporters who, these days are usually amateurs called "contributors" to the media and have little actual training in the field of journalism, aren't able or don't bother with a follow up reports on what occurred after the donations were distributed. Especially heart-rending is a story about a mentally ill person who had a history of violence and was treated but who sadly killed his family. There are too many stories like this. The mentally ill need more than a few appointments paid for by a health plan with a mental health worker and prescriptions to take and who go off with promises that all will be well. The mentally ill may not be equipped to continue taking the medications faithfully since when things feel better, they could consider it no longer necessary.That's when relapses occur and the results are disturbing and dangerous. Where was the follow-up? "We can't keep an eye on them every minute; they are free to live their lives" is the answer. The "free" life style of someone with mental illness depends on stability and monitoring.  Follow up needs to be on-going, not at the will of the patient. Nor do we  need to put people into institutions as follow-up. We need people who care. The medical world is telling us they are exhausted. Who isn't? Putting more money into hospitals and institution buildings doesn't make more people who can help. We need to put back inexpensive training for those who cannot afford to attend universities at their horrendous costs and time. There are countless individuals who would love to become nurses and other professions that require people who care. Yapping about it at meetings does not put our youth into places to receive the training they need to do the work they want to do. What about more money toward learning institutions like the old nursing residences for students, ones that are located at hospitals and ones that are free, as once they were. Student nurses were paid to train and they trained on site. Let's follow up on that idea and revive it?

THAT One

We're all going to "go" with some kind of what we might call an "affliction" but  I shall call it, The End. Our lives end in lots of ways and some feel that Alzheimer's Disease or dementia is the worst. And in a way it is one of the worst The Ends, but not necessarily The Worst. It is gentle and slow. It isn't painful physically. Too many of my friends and family and acquaintances and work mates have gone now. They saw The End. When you are entering your nineties you feel privileged. You have reached a grand old age. You come to almost welcome The End but not in a fun way. Most of your days you feel dandy other than the usual complaints that you try to ignore or laugh away or ouch away. They're there, but you know that life is coming to an end, so why go on and on about it while life is still with you. It's a joy to live. You see everything differently. What you thought was once important and vital even, isn't. Money, power, stuff, status: have little meaning. People you love and who love you are prime in your life. You are so grateful to have had them in your particular life. They don't get that feeling as you do,  but one day, they will, so you tell them and mean it, that you love them. Love them in a way that is hard to explain. They ARE your life. They haven't had to do things to be that way, or to have been good to you or to have achieved in any way you might have hoped, a want that I think is unfair. They simply have BEEN, and that's all they needed to do. In time, some of the elders I respected suddenly can't remember things they ought to. They are very well educated and brilliant people who are slowly slipping into a place called Alzheimers Disease. They look the same. They don't feel the same. All the people in their lives are new and strangers and that's a pretty hard situation that no one understands no matter that they say they do. Most of us unafflicted, find that words we once knew, suddenly escape their meanings. Events that we are told happened, seem foggy.  I don't have Alzheimer's Disease but my memory still plays little tricks. Those with the actual disease, are highly affected. And you know what? I don't care. It's not remembering that matters. As they do, I love food, people around me that are caring. I love the mind that I have just as it is. I love the sun rise and sun sets, I love any weather, I love all animals and all people, even those I have yet to meet. Being old is a perfect joy and life is perfect just the way it is.  Even at eighty eight.

Leadership

 There isn't one model of leadership. From what I have experienced, there are many kinds that fit into many sorts of situations. I have no business experience in that form of leadership, but I do have in various other frameworks. Meeting your supervisor, or consultant or teacher or club president, you can often gain a first impression that is valid. Perhaps I'm not a patient individual but I am not willing to spend months having to guess work a leader. I like to see leadership happen instantly. It is or it is not.  As a classroom teacher, I regarded leadership as another teacher whom I admired and wished to emulate to become my leader in my journey as an educator. In a club or management situation, it requires a different sort of leader. In a recent experience, I found two leaders whose talents, I could comment upon. Both leaders were of some years experience, in age and at their work. Both were exemplary individuals. But each was proficient at leadership in differing ways. One was excellent at conducting meetings in a business-like manner in regards to time and productive efficiency. The other had, in dealing with meetings, a style more relaxed and open ended. One seemed to get things done quickly and the other offered creative opportunities. The first leader dealt with the agenda in a time directed manner so that it jibed with the clock. It was nice to get the business done on time. The meetings were formal without humour or personal input. On leaving everyone felt that the business of the day, had been accomplished. The second leader, began the meeting with personal greetings and some light humour. The audience relaxed and felt able to provide personal input and that it would be accepted. The timing wasn't always right on the minute, but those leaving were satisfied that their ideas were accepted and helpful. You heard laughter and friendly comments as they left. These are two styles of leadership but which one works best in the long run, is key. As a member of organizations, I prefer a more relaxed style but there are some people who want a formal and fast resolution to meetings. The test of which is the best management style, is how well the organization grows and how deeply ingrained are its members in meeting unexpected challenges. Elections to management positions are what makes the fit. Sadly, not all managers are elected.