Canadianism

Immigration is often unfairly considered when it shouldn't be. We, on this planet are really citizens of the world in spite of the lines we human devise on maps. Our country, Canada, as every other country came to places that had aborigines and were welcomed at one time but since then, the world has grown hugely and we need to immigrate to find work and make a new life and that is what our world is made of. It belongs to everyone. Everyone who breathes the common air that lightly surrounds us, has the responsibilty of keeping the globe a safe and welcoming place, one that provides the essentials and personal safety for its creatures, all of them. Along with that universal responsibility, is dealing with evil. It doesn't matter where we go or what we do or how we view, there is good and bad. When those who need or want to go from one area of the political divisions we humans have drawn globally, there are restrictions that have reasons behind them to maintain the mandates of how the earth should protect its creatures and by doing it behind those lines that denote citizens of the countries marked.  The bad members of the world's population aren't stupid and they are clever enough in an evil way, of "lock picking" to pass the boundaries  meant to keep them out so that law and order is maintained and  that evil cannot pursue its harm and through its insatiable greed.  Most of their "keys"  threaten the innocent who, being without gile, have no recourse but to do as they are told and thus help criminals and their motives. They feel they must cooperate and keep secret what they should be revealing to protect not only themselves but the rest of the country they came to. They tried to escape, but it goes where they do.  The criminals run their own little worlds and all those who bend to their threats. No one is able to look into a gun and say no. Those weapons are not directed specifically, but are general so that whole families are affected. People keep their heads down, their mouths shut and pay whatever is demanded of them to keep themeselves and their people safe. Criminals are just as studious at their work as are the police forces. It is a fact; logically so, because if it were not, there would be no crime. Adding drugs to the mix, creates another huge population of victims who cannot fight against what their own personal bodies demand, thus they become weapons working for evil. It is a complicated world, and one that frustrates everyone, the good and the bad. What will win?  Who will win? Who can win?  

Home?

 When is a home, not a home? Answer: when it is a place. Why are care homes called homes? I suppose because for some, it's the only place where people care for you in a kindly way and see that all of your immediate personal and medical needs are met. It's not a place that is a true home but it is the closest to one, and thus, you grasp the move and see it positively. It is the only place other than with your own family, where you can receive "home", a place to live comfortably. You tolerate. It is acceptable and most elders don't complain no matter how they feel privately. None of we elders want to end up in a place that is ones step down from a hospital, but it's much better than trying to cope with being in our own homes or places that can't provide our needs. It is a close destiny for me now, and perhaps you,  and while we might complain, we ought to be grateful that there are such places. And hopefully we can afford the better ones. They're not all great, to be honest. What does make a true home more true. For me, it's one that has no strict schedules such as when to get up, go to meals, have a bath or shower, attend social events, etc. For me, those are choices I want to make, not someone who runs a place called "home". I would love to live in a "home"  but with a looser kind of plan. I wonder why I can't rise in the morning or go to bed at night of my time choice. One of the reasons for the scheduling in a "home", is that it's cheaper. Still, I think with some creativity, loose scheduling is possible. Why not have a cafeteria setting to which one would go and choose a meal be it breakfast, lunch or dinner at any time of  the day. Like a restaurant buffet with a broad offering. To me, meals aren't on a strict menu plan or a schedule.  I prefer choice, and what would be so difficult in making the dining room like a self-serve restaurant? Pick up a tray and choose. Of course special dining events would be lovely but most days, a choice of ordinary pleasant home meals would work. When it comes to entertainment please not children's choirs or child-like arts and crafts that fool no one into thinking it is art. If you give an art class, let art happen. Please not some kindergarthen slickery trickery paint by numbers sort of nonsense to put up with. Cynicism? No; fact. Check it out. We don't give up being adults when we grew old no matter how slowly we move or think. Movie time for me, is of my choice not a TV up front with  old movies to suffer through. We can find our own old movies on our own screens in our own rooms, perhaps with invited guests. It's not long for me until my very lovely past ninety years as a wife, mother, professional, community participant and voter.  Soon, I  will have to head to a "home". Let it be, please, one that treats me like a thinking human being no matter what my condition or mind. I require that respect for my past.  Most other elders do, too. 

Writer widow: Permanent Kids

Writer widow: Permanent Kids: When I was a kid, my  mother from the start, taught us skills for our lives: truthfulness and respect, duty, safety, cooking, cleaning, with...

Boy/Man Talk

 There is a great deal of concern, the media tells me, about men and how difficult it is for them in the world of romance.  And it is confirmed that it has nothing to do with the rising of women to roles formerly dominated  unfairly by males. It's not the fault of women. It's a men's matter So it's not a gender war. What it appears to be is about, Number One, appearance. That needs defining. Some male groups suggest body building which is good health because it isn't just about lifting weights, it's all about good health. Number One is also cleanliness. Wear torn jeans or a tee shirt, but be tidy and clean and smell soapy nice, not soaked in shaving lotion. I will  tell you this secret, women don't care if you are  balding or have big muscles or are a bit fat. I like to call it "substantial". Confidence and a sense of humour and being nicely communicative count. What do women want in a man? One word. No: lots of words, the good kind: no swearing, no cave man hoo haw, no crude suggestions, no false flattery. Women appreciate just pleasant, friendly chat. It's called communication and without it, they lose interest rapidly. Men apparently fear approaching women because they may be rejected. That shows, so stop it. No one minds a smiling, friendly hello. As to what to say, it'll come to you naturally. Relax. If you get  a smile back consider it an opening to more conversation. What women do not like is a macho, swaggering guy trying to play some kind of boss role. Be you, because  your you is all you need and don't forget a real smile like you truly do want to talk to the person. Just talk in that moment. If it doesn't work, no loss. There have to be lots of losses before a win. At schooling in my day, no one knows how  much I wanted the nerds or the brainy guys who were too shy in the class to dare to come over and say hello to me. I would have loved to tap their minds in conversation and find out all about them. They were a mystery to me that needed solving perhaps but if they didn't come over, I would never know.  It wasn't a romantic wish, it was merely a human want that could possibly have turned out to be a friendship or maybe more. It takes that first step, not the latest hair cut or shirt or big bicep or height or weight. You guys just have to get over there and smile and say hi. 

Cream And Butter

Every kitchen that cares about beautiful food needs rich cream and butter. Sadly, the silly skinny dieters who think bones are pretty, lose that you can't beat the richness of fat for flavour. Fat is sexy. It is exotic. One of the constants that I wish every kitchenwho cares, would have on hand, is both cream and butter and I don't mean the lite kinds. A quart of high percent cream will last a lot longer than milk and you can water it down to be milk if  you wish and use it that way, too. Long ago on the farm of old, my grandparents who had a wonderful Holstein cow that gave a ton of milk over the years, saw her hand milked product put into the separator in the milk house, and when Grandma cranked  the handle or we little ones did, out of  the spout came butter milk for butter churning on one side and thick cream on the other. From then on, at the long oil clothed table, we had rich sauces of every flavour generated from Gramma's spice rack and cream.  Not to mention, rich creamed coffee from the pot always on the great black iron wood-stove. Today, I buy my quart of cream and it becomes sauces usually made of only a few common  ingredients. Butter, cream, flour, and seasoning. The sauce is used fresh or saved and frozen for for later. A common sauce makes all. The recipe is simply melted butter in a skillet, poured in thick cream and when stirred to hot, but never boiled, adding in a little flour and whatever herbs or spices and you have the beginnings of ethereal sauces to come. This sauce when thickened gently might own lemon grass or juice to taste, salted along with fresh cracked pepper to make with prociutto on a bun, Eggs Benedict. Or if you love curried anything, add your favorite one for pouring on rice or pasta or a crepe or chicken or beef, adding as much red or green pepper heat of any kind you enjoy. I adore crepes that I keep in the freezer to become a "plate" on which I can pile anything just the right presentable size,  then add the cream sauce flavoured in whatever savory ways I am in a mood for. Giving it a zap for heat or into the oven as you wish. And of course, the snippings from the scallions standing always in their vase beside the black swan kitchen tap, add a heady freshness that crowns your dish however humble made luxurious because it is all of  your own hand. The French are saucy folks who know that it is exactly where the golden mother lode exists. It's all in the sauce. Why? Because even in Napoli where they fry their pasta left over or freshly boiled and drained, comes a heavenly sauce with added cream and mashed garlic  and oregano with its friends and finally, that marvellous Mozarella or Parmesan cheese melting over all.  Don't forget a basket of French bagguette torn from the slender loaf in which to dip  your Balsamic vinegar and EV olive oil while you savour the pasta rolling on the fork just before your anticipation mouth. Mmmm!

AI?Get A Grip

What's so dreadful about a faked picture? It's common knowledge that they are done all the time under the name of enhancement. There are all sorts of online programs to effect this habit that's been around since computers hit the desks and pockets. The media space AI is taking up and the apologies spated about it widely, make me smile a bit. Fakes? Yes, but it's been done for ages in time. Think of the elaborate court wigs, the great pouffed skirts, the masks in Venice even Santa himself. It's all fakery perhaps not as badly used as now, but done previously without hype or panic. Today's fashion magazine, the one with the slender ladies, now, of course, pilled up (or down) with waistlines the size of their bejewelled necks make no apologies about fakery. We love fakes as we did from the first days of humankind when ashy facial marks out of cave fire sticks were made to scare off the enemy. Fakery nowadays , however, has become political and is used as weapons. It's also used by vicious persons who think that the printed word as a weapon is less hurtful or litigous than those spoken. That's bad because today's human image depends on purity and anyone who thinks no one will dig out the dirt, is misled. And we want our leaders (or most of us in sane countries) to be only a tad less than gods. Where it all goes wrong to fake it, is when you tell everyone you are clean and you aren't. It's call lying. These lies are also confusing because as everyone knows, most advertising is lying and we see nothing wrong about it. We play the consumer game. Then again, we love the ads because, truth legally, we allow them. To an extent. The world at large, we know,  has fault but it's a game of trying to dodge around the "little white lies" to keep the peace. Ah, such a peace we keep. But, as my BFF used to say "we're interesting". 

A Realist Kitchen

 My mini condo kitchen is my favorite place in my place other than my lady lair computer station. Yes, I have the whitish  marble counter tops and back splash, black cabinets and lots of stainless steel, a glass topped stove (pooey on messy gas) and a black stone farm sink. My floor is fake wood with a door mat cut in half, to catch garbage drips before flying into the garbage bin underneath. My counter tops are laden happily, with condiments in antique cut crystaljars and bowls (what else to do with Aunt Elsie's crystal collection) and a coffee  machine, two airfryers, a tiny vacuum, mini deep fryer, blessed stand mixer, and glass covered butter dish ( never keep in the fridge), bread under glass and a small microwave oven. Above  my smart stove is a shelf laden with dried herbs and a chef's thermometer stuck on the stove hood. Any cook who stows everything inside and has a pristine empty counter top is under suspicion of using prepared food cheats. The best cook I ever knew was someone who ran down to the specialty store and bought everything for her guest her table. I always wondered if she'd flown to a desert island just before dinner. Realists don't mess around, but they are messy. I keep such as Romaine on hand always ( I do not favour eating salad leaves like a cow) for soups or to fry up. The nutrition in Romaine is stunning. I have on hand constantly tins of milk, pork and beans, tomato soup, salmon and crab. When the grocery order is delivered, I prep all the veggies so they are ready to go to war when I need them. I am a mood cook. About an hour before I have to (food is not my first love), I decide then what I want to eat. Yesterday out came the crepe maker and while it heated up, I put some cream, butter and flour into a little lovely skillet and made a sauce with herbs of the mood. Adding left over chicken and frozen stand by, peas. I adore crepes.  Always, I add clips of green onion that reside  beside my waiting black tap like a swan neck and the antique black iron lacy holder for my real sponge. Inside the sink in the corner, resides a small steel bowl with water a detergent filled brush ready to go. I have learned to keep in the fridge, done up bacon (a whole package be-micro-ed on paper), a tin of P and Beans to scoop out and a glistening jar of chopped sweet onion. They are ready for action. I mix my own herbs using the dried kind to my taste. A salt shaker filler with baking powder sits on the marble cruet ready for oil herbed chicken going into the airfryer. Makes it crispy and doesn't tell. I am never without cream, the heavy stuff I can water down to call milk if I have to. Honey and maple syrup are standbys.  I can't stand anything called Lite, MSG, substitute anything, sweeteners and the like. To  me, they are poison. Sorry, gotta go, eggs are ready; my little boiler machine I use for steaming as well,  is beeping.

Dead Right

Of course, the dead can't speak but most of us who lose someone  and we are left, do a lot of talking with the dead. It's natural because most of the time during the dying phase, there isn't a lot to say because of conditions. "Conditions" might mean physical or perhaps emotional. Some who are dying like to talk a lot and others, not at all. Both parties could think they don't think it appropriate to talk about such matters. And I am not about to advise such as "getting it all out there before it's too late". No, it isn't that easy and it isn't that correct. Like everything else you play it by ear. You are with a dying person letting them call the topics to talk about and you are there to listen. The words you hear may not make sense, thus the after-talk does.  I am a widow whose dear mate went a long time ago but who hasn't entirely left. His last days were somewhat verbal but not all of it made sense due to the medications that thankfully, eased any pain. Speaking of  dying pain, I am a firm believer that no one needs to die in pain. We have the drugs that are out there used by hospice doctors who care, and they will use them if that's what the person ending, wishes. The dying have the choice.  And these days, there are also plans that permit some to decide on a specific time and date to leave this earthy bond. It doesn't all end at the memorial, because questions arise after, perhaps much later, by those who try and understand the life that went and why and how - it always feels like "too soon". There are after-conversations that can take place any time of the day or night, sometimes long ones and others, short.  Some of these after-talks are deep and serious because in life, they weren't possible to have for one reason or another. In life, we don't always have the ability to "open up" and say everything that needs saying. But it's easier to have  that conversation afterward. I don't know what conversation you didn't have with your loved one, but I know mine. It's taken many years for me to deal with it all. And I didn't have a bad time. I happen to be one of the lucky ones, who lived for fifty-four years with one of the dearest souls. But, in life, we don't always get right into the bottom of things. I didn't. You likely, didn't. It's human. We rather put aside those chats for one reason or another but after death, wow, you can say what you should have and all of it. Most of the time, it's the nice things you should have said but didn't even though you wanted to. And sometimes, it's the not-so-nice things. They just didn't come out. Or up. But after a death is over, you can say everything, all of it, and as much as you like. Listening is kind of important, too. Yes, it's possible. You just have to listen carefully. What would the person have answered? Would it be what you wanted to hear or not? It can't hurt anyone now, so go for it. Say it all but be sure to think on what the effects would have been if you said it, then. Would it have been well received? Would there be a debate? You can  take sides, both of them, and see how that would work. Talking to the dead, is okay because, whether admitted of not, it happens all the time. And it's truly therapeutic and often successful for the mind.  Try it, no shame, no blame. There is no ticking clock.