Covet

From Mirriam Webster:  transitive verb: to wish for earnestly - covet an award. : to desire (what belongs to another) inordinately or culpably - The king's brother coveted the throne. intransitive verb: to feel inordinate desire for what belongs to another

From Oxford -  verb: covet; yearn to possess or have (something). -"he covets time for exercise and fishing". Similar: desire, be consumed with desire for, crave, have one's heart set on, want, wish for, long for, yearn for, dream of, aspire to. hanker for, hanker after, hunger after/for, thirst for, ache for, fancy, burn for, pant for.

Origin - Middle English: from Old French cuveitier, based on Latin cupiditas (see cupidity).

Of all the things that a person can play with, I love words. I love putting them together, studying them, enjoying them. A post or so ago I looked up the Ten Commandments in its form both in the King James version of the Bible and in the Vulgate.

A Digression - Why is there a version of the Bible called the  Vulgate? The New Testament was originally written in Greek. The principal Latin version of the Bible was prepared mainly by St. Jerome in the late 4th century, and (as revised in 1592) adopted as the official text for the Roman Catholic Church.  Jerome's Latin version was called the Biblia vulgata, the 'Bible in the common tongue'. And it remained in Latin for many hundreds of years, accessible only by the clergy and others (very few) who knew Latin until common people at the beginnings of the ‘protestant’ movement stubbornly insisted on translating it and using the translations. ‘Vulgus’, in passing, meant ‘the mass of the people’, quite literally ‘the public’ and only later took on the connotation of ‘rabble’ providing our adjective, “vulgar” to describe a range from unrefined to sexually explicit speech or action.

Are you still there? If you are, you will be pleased to know that I am about to rejoin the main thread of this discussion by highlighting the use of “covet” in the Tenth Commandment. It is really a word that is used regularly in modern English only with the commandment or discussion of it. And it is another word that comes to us from the Latin, in this case from ‘cupiditas’. Now my Collins English/Latin dictionary gives a whole range of definitions of this word, a noun formed from the verb ‘cupere’ (yes, of course, Cupid). ‘Cupiditas’ can mean “desire, eagerness, enthusiasm, passion, lust, avarice, greed, ambition and partisanship”. It switched its ‘p’ for a ‘v’ in medieval France, giving us cuveitier, and arrived in our language to become the Middle English word 'coveit'.

It is certainly not the only word choice that the learned men working, at King James I’s request, on a definitive English translation for use in churches could have used. A book I read about the translation process describes men learned in Greek, Latin, Hebrew and other tongues. They lived in the same age that produced Shakespeare and other prolific coiners of words. (Shakespeare only uses ‘covet’ three times in all of the plays; methinks he did not like the word much.) They must have had reason to decide on ‘covet’ and add the list of things not to be coveted, adding ‘or anything that is his’ to cover the corners.

It is impossible to trace what the learned men were translating FROM when they chose to use ‘covet’. If I could remember the name of the really interesting book[1] I read about this, I could quote the list of sources they used, but please understand that there were a lot. It took them years and when you read the King James version, you understand why. It is a masterpiece of language, very precise, very clear. And very current if you lived in the first half of the seventeenth century. And so, in spite of Shakespeare’s dislike of it, 'covet' was the word of choice for the commandment about not being – what? Jealous? Greedy? Too set on material things?

As far as I can tell, it is okay to want a house or an ox or an axe like the one your neighbour has. You just are forbidden to want, to yearn for, to dream of, his.  (This makes more than perfect sense when you get to ‘wife’, eh?)  (Squaring this with ‘love your neighbour as yourself’ took me some time as a Sunday School student.)

Another Digression. - I have a vague memory, speaking of being a student, of Chaucer using a word very close to our modern ‘covet’ in several places, notably the Wife of Bath and the Parson, but I can’t find the quote in context in a fast search. Chaucer’s word is coveiten,

All of us who were dragged off to Sunday School know, vaguely, that coveting something, the sin of covetousness, is wrong. But without the word being in common use, I, for one, find it difficult to know exactly what it is wrong to do.  The other commandments have language that is quite clear. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ Got it. But, what exactly is coveting? If my neighbour has a beautiful new baby grandchild, and mine are all grown, is it wrong to hold that baby and wish for those days back again? If my neighbour is younger, supple, strong, out in her garden, is it wrong to wish that I could still do the same? “To desire inordinately or culpably”; where does ‘ordinate’ stop and ‘culpability’ begin?

I wish I could remember more about the book I read about the King James Bible’s creation. I cannot stop thinking about those translators, those men (I suspect they were all men) sitting hour after day after month producing that beautiful language. Ruth and Naiomi, just as an example –“Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die; and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also if aught but death part thee and me.” (Ruth 1:16-17 KJV) How did that come to be written in just that way? The cadence, the clarity, the clean, stark beauty, all outstanding. All, we are lead to believe, the work of a committee.

 

I love language, words, communication through the best choices of words. Words, I used to pound into my restless teenagers, are tools. The more tools, the better the tools you have, the better your results. You can carve with a chainsaw, certainly, but you can carve smaller and finer with a sharp, sharp knife. And among the words in English that I love the most, that I cherish, are those of the King James translation.

In the beginning was the word …

---

[1]

 I found two that might be it.  God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible  – 2003 by Adam Nicolson and In the Beginning: The Story of the King James Bible and How it Changed a Nation, a Language, and a Culture by Alister E. McGrath, 2001.

But the greatest of these is charity.

 March weather. The sun shines, the sky is a glorious blue. And then, whap. Snow, ice pellets and wind. It pulled from my memory banks this rhyme by Walter Crane.

 Earlier, I wrote this, after bidding the YD goodbye.

 If I have made no other mark on the world, I have given my country two splendid women. The YD, the one I described as retired from her career; you remember that? She is off as of this morning to start another stint of being useful to her country and getting paid for it. I must admit that this does not surprise me all that much. I figured she would get hooked by someone into something and, yes, indeed, she did. I did not ask permission to publish what she is doing, but I will check with her to see if I can. And in the meantime, be assured, she is very well-suited to be doing it.

 The grandkid, on the other hand, is coming to the end of four years of university and has a mad kaleidoscope of choices. Grad school, job, year off to travel, all that. And probably more that I haven’t thought of. Her mother went the summer job to grad school route, on scholarship. Her aunt wrote the Civil Service entry, interviewed, was chosen and spent the time before she was to report in by touring part of the world with a backpack. As for me, I spent a lot of time trying to get the last three credits I needed for an honours graduation and failing. I think I blew the exam at least three times and I had been working for a year when I finally threw in the towel and asked the registrar to allow me to graduate with a pass BA. That course and the degree was hugely important to me then but I cannot recall the mindset or even remember much about the whole thing. It is so, so not important now. That driven and miserable young woman is someone I do not know – and probably someone I would not have much time for.

 Once I got my feet on the ground in the real world, what became important to me, besides my family and friends, was being of use to my community, to my neighbours. It seemed necessary for me to be put to work my time and what skills I had that would serve. Perhaps those of us who do that make differences so small as to be invisible, one at a time. But in aggregate, ordinary people doing their best, as neighbours, as friends, as volunteers, in their communities, make this country what it is, I think. And what is it? A fine, safe place to live. A place we can be proud to own. And, for me, a place to celebrate.

 I think I was in Grade 8 when I first got interested Canada as a place. It was because of a public speaking topic: “The Twentieth Century Belongs to Canada”. The quote comes from a speech by Sir Wilfrid Laurier.

I can’t remember a lot about the research or what I said, but I do recall reading Hugh McLennan’s Two Solitudes, and probably Pierre Burton, although I cannot recall what book(s). My parents, readers and with two degrees each, probably gave me material. I was hooked. My father was also a pretty avid capital L Liberal, and I heard a lot about politics and what was good or not and working or not. And that the country only survives and thrives on the backs of its citizens.... its thinking and analyzing citizens.

 Third pole of the tripod that holds up civilization, in my opinion? Civility. Patience, good order, courtesy, willingness to listen and willingness to learn. Those are the values that it is most important that our schools and our parenting instil in children so that they will grow up to be people that can live together, not necessarily in harmony but in the values that make good neighbours. Obedience to the rule of law, even if you think the law is a foolish one, is key. (I am not talking about doing 55 kph in a 50 zone. I am talking about slowing down in a school zone to a safe level and watching for the kids. Right?) It is not the Ten Commandments either – I have never been sure what ‘coveting’1 does, if it is not followed up. Agreement of all of us to the rules is what keeps us all, in the main, safe and secure.

 

1 A lot of words have been written about this. 

What I Did on My March Half Holiday.

 I had a good day today. I went to a meeting of my book club, a group of women all at the ‘grandmother’ stage of life who love to read and talk. Some months we pick a book and do an in-depth discussion; at other meetings we each bring a report about a book we have read and think the others would enjoy. The second of these two types was what we did this morning. I picked up some good pointers about books to read that I think I would otherwise have missed. And I think that my report was well received, or so it seemed.

 We also had a go-around about current politics and, of course, the American mess. I think that in general the group was cautiously hopeful about Carney (for my US of A readers, Carney has just been selected by the Liberal Party to replace Justin Trudeau as Prime Minister. He will be ‘sworn in’ tomorrow, that is March 14^th as I write this.) We were also, of course, incautiously scathing about President Trump’s idiocy. Well, not just his - Trump and Musk and the enablers of both. We agreed that the outpouring of patriotism general in our country just now is amazing. I only hope it lasts and we can hunker down for the long term it will take to wait until the idiots self-destruct.

 After this refreshing two hours, we went and had lunch in the main part of the coffee shop, the four of us who could. Others had rides already booked or other commitments. We meet at a coffee shop in the town where almost all of the members live, either in the town or close by. Only two of us have a trek to get in; mine is a half-hour drive and I think my friend’s drive is about that. We meet at this location because the proprietor has a ’meeting room’ with a big table and seating for all of us which we can use free of charge providing we buy coffee and goodies to consume while we meet. It is a perfectly sized room for our number and the coffee is excellent. So, I am informed, is the turmeric latte, but I stayed with the coffee.

 While I was thus disporting myself, my husband had coffee with a friend and then went and did all the grocery shopping, picking up the hard-to-find items and the ice cream. This last rode home in the truck bed to keep it as cold as possible. It was above freezing by the afternoon, but only by a couple of degrees. Very little melting has taken place on our laneway and in the pull-up beside the house. JG put a lot of de-icers down, but I am still terrified to walk on it, my balance being non-existent these days.

 To finish this boring report, I note that my shoulder has some flex back in it, enough that I can put earrings into the ear and wash my hair with two hands. (Try washing your hair one-handed; an exercise in frustration.) I also note that others are reporting robins and red-winged blackbirds, but not one feather of a spring bird has appeared to my wondering eye. We have a local man, David Francey, who is a wonderfully accomplished folk-singer and he has a song about the red-wings. I will see if I can hook it in here.

King Donald

 Every once in a while I get a supremely silly idea that just takes possession of me and needs to be told. And this one just in; you lot get the benefit.

I think that we should ask King Charles III to abdicate in favour of dear President Trump. And we should make the man King of Canada with all the rights and privileges of a constitutional monarch, just what Charles has in respect to Canada.

Those of you who are Canadian should know this, but for my American friends, here it is. The role of the constitutional monarch of Canada.

Canada's monarchy is a unifying symbol and protector of democratic rights, and the King is the head of state. The King's powers are defined by the Constitution and other laws. 

Role of the King

Uniting Canadians: The King embodies the Crown and represents the collective values of Canadians. Constitutional government: The King upholds constitutional government and seeks peace, harmony, and prosperity. Impartial arbiter: The King can act as an impartial arbiter in a constitutional crisis.

 Role of the Governor General

The Governor General is the King's representative in Canada and exercises those rights accruing to the crown, including giving royal assent to bills passed by Parliament, appointing, on the advice of the government, holders of many offices.

 Function of the Sovereign

The sovereign and his representatives typically "act by 'not acting'"—holding power, but, not exercising it—both because they are unelected figures and to maintain their neutrality, "deliberately, insistently, and resolutely". Consequently, the Crown performs two functions: as a unifying symbol and a protector of democratic rights and freedoms.

At the same time, a number of freedoms granted by the constitution to all other Canadians are denied to, or limited for, the monarch and the other senior members of the royal family: freedom of religion, freedom of expression, freedom to travel, freedom to choose a career, freedom to marry, and freedom of privacy and family life.

While the Crown is empowered by statute and the royal prerogative, it also enjoys inherent powers not granted by either. The Court of Appeal of British Columbia ruled in 1997 that "the Crown has the capacities and powers of a natural person" and its actions as a natural person are, as with the actions of any natural person, subject to judicial review.

Most of the above cribbed from Wikipedia.  I trust you have gathered that the monarch has no real power at all. He can 'advise and warn'; that is it. And the judicial review bit I just love.

The way I envision things, King Donald would continue to live in his castle in Florida but would have his face on our stamps and currency, would be invited to cut a ribbon or perform some other useless function in Canada from time to time, at which time we would all turn out, wave little flags and admire his robes of state. The rest of the time he would be out of our lives, just like our present monarch.

Don’t you think such a future would suit him to a tee? He would never miss another golf game and I am sure that former hockey greats and other gormless souls would continue to grace his parties.

More Martlet

In heraldry, a ‘martlet’ is a mythical bird without feet that never roosts from the moment of its drop-birth until its death fall; martlets are proposed to be continuously on the wing.

More Martlet Musings

When I started university, way way back in 1960, one of the university’s freshman events was to shut the whole group of us into a large lecture hall and require us to write out and memorize the school’s competitive sports chant. Given that the university was the Queen’s University of Kingston, with strong Scottish roots, we had to learn and sing  "Oil thigh na Banrighinn a'Banrighinn gu brath", which translates to "The university of the wife of the King forever". The chant also includes the Gaelic war cry "Cha Gheill", which means "no surrender". The Bannrighinn (F, genitive) being the Queen, of course, wife of the king since Gaelic has no word for Queen. At football games, this was sung, ideally in a long line while kicking in unison. It was thought to fuel school spirit, or was fueled by spirits or both. (Please note that when JG and I returned for his 50th Anniversary reunion, some singing and kicking was done, but not by us.)

Our major competition in the football that was the heart of ‘school spirit’ was McGill University, an English language university plunked into the heart of Montreal. In those old and politically incorrect days, the men’s teams were the Red Men (McGill’s colour being red) and the chant, loudly rendered to drown Cha Gheill, was something like “We are the red  men, feathers in our head men, pow WOW, pow WOW.” The second verse was, again from my memory, “We come home from fighting afar, greeted by our long-nosed squaws, Pow Wow etc” .  Pretty terrible, although nothing compared to what was heard after rugby games. I will not go into that.

At any rate, their men's teams became colloquially known as the "Indians" and from 1961 to 1967 women's teams were formally known as the "Super Squaws". At some point after that, McGill decided to clean up its act. The cleanup got written up here. The men’s teams are now “Redbirds” and the women’s teams are “Martlets”.

And here, proud grandmother that I am, I picture a Martlet for your enjoyment. She is a track athlete, and runs the 400, solo and relay, and some shorter distances. The relay did very well indeed. These are both public domain photos from the McGill Track and Field site.

PS Also an A student. Proud grandmother.

Digging Out

The photo below is a shot of what happens when you get a LOT of snow on the roof. If you enlarge it, you can see the shoveller working away in front of the chimney stack. 

 We designed and built the house we now live in and, because we were middle-aged and not very agile, we built it with a roof with a low pitch. We also built it with a ‘great room’ that has a pitched ceiling supported by a ‘gluelam’ beam, that being a beam made of boards glued and laminated together. The combination of this beam and the low pitch means that if there is a lot of snow built up on the roof, there is a lot of weight up there and it is all resting on the beam. The thought of this weight keeps the designer awake at night, wondering if the beam is strong enough. And so, if we get a dump of snow, we shovel the roof..

 JG used to shovel it himself. He harnessed himself to the chimney and threw the snow off according to a plan that did not whump the bushes in the front, or bury the back porch. Once the roof was shovelled, the deck had to be cleared. Normally it was waist deep in compacted snow and took as much effort as the roof clearing. Luckily we have a young neighbour with muscles and some spare time and we have hired him in latter years. The one occasion on which we hired workmen from a local business, we ended up needing to get the roof reshingled. Not what is wanted on a regular basis. So we hope the neighbour is free.

 And so, after the foot or so of lovely white fluff (not) that we got this weekend, JG got on the phone to see if a shoveller was available. After some angst, we think he is due to clean us off tomorrow. The YD has volunteered to help if he can’t get a partner. She and her sister both live in the inner city, in houses with minimal front yards and narrow streets. She will have been shovelling quite a bit already, just to find her car and clear the drive. Her sister and partner decided, the last I was informed, to wait until it was ‘all down’; they may be looking for their driveway for some time. Some years ago, the ED sent us this record of what they had to do to clear the car for exit.

 You need a strong back or strong helpers to live around here sometimes.

Canadian, Eh?

 

If there is one thing that President Trump has accomplished in his first few weeks in office, it is uniting Canadians in patriotic fervor. It would be funny, in truth, if it were not so frightening.

 It has been my impression over many years that the one thing Canadians can agree on, across provinces, languages, ethics and location, is that to be Canadian is to be … not an American. We revel, in fact, in our sub-fusc, polite (except during hockey games) personae, and quietly get on with trading with them, visiting them, buying from them and not being them. If we also ride on their coattails in defence (DEW Line, anyone?), research and medial innovation (where did my father get his heart bypass surgery in 1970? The Cleveland Clinic, thanks), entertainment (Hello Mickey Mouse, Hello Bob Dylan), and transport (so, where was your car made?), it is neither a surprise nor an impediment to dissing them at the drop of a tuque.

 The first round of MAGA was, in my opinion, a case in point. We all sat back and shook our heads and commented about the epitome of the Ugly American getting elected. He whacked us with tariffs, was rude to our Prime Minister and ignored us, mostly. Bombast, we said. I very much suspect that a lot of Americans made the same judgment. But obviously what he said and the things he did do resonated with another lot of Americans. And so, here he is again and he has learned from his being balked the first time. This time we are going to see Action. And I am not sure that any of his oh-so-wild riffs on Greenland, Panama, Canada, Gaza, all that, are anything other than real. To him. Things to get done.

 So here we are, flapping our Maple Leaf Flags, buying Canadian, bracing for tariffs. Patriotism is glowing in our hearts. (The one time I have really liked Trudeau Junior is when he made a simple and unguarded response to an annexation of Canada question. ‘That has a snowball’s chance in hell,’ he said. I devoutly hope that he is right.) I hope we continue to buy on guard, tightening our belts as necessary, so as to live with the economic war that threatens. I do hope that the patriotism is real and lasting. I do hope that we can last until the sensible half of the US of A can tame their wildman.

 That they will do so, eventually, is my hope. I have to hold on to that. What I believe is that Canadians (et aussi les Canadiens) are strongly enough rooted in our country that we will withstand whatever the madman comes up with. This country for which my father risked his life, over and over, during WWII, this country that I have studied, worked for and loved, this country will survive.

 Not American? You bet.

The Way We Talk and the Way I Write

 

It is a gloriously sunny morning, but cold. February at its best. We had a fine snowfall yesterday, which, of course, I had to drive through, and there is now a layer on the barbeque that, if I want hamburgers for supper, I should go out and clear off. But perhaps I should clear up the compound-complex sentence I just put up. Also, the which/that conundrum. Gee, I am glad I am not teaching this stuff any longer and can break all the rules with impunity should I so desire. Those who hold to their grammar should simply shudder and read on.

 Teaching your little one language. ‘She was badder than me’ says the toddler. ‘No, sweetie, you say worse, not badder’. The next day you will probably hear ‘worser’. Kids are programmed to learn language logically and English isn’t.

 Reading about this stuff, I have been enjoying a book titled How You Say It Why We Judge Others by the Way They Talk – And the Costs of This Hidden Bias. By Katherine D. Kinzler. A lot of her work has been with children and she is eloquent on the benefits of bilingualism and of starting children very young on two or more languages. The basic ‘takeaway’ is that she believes children who are exposed to a second language at a very young age (even if they do not learn it) will be more flexible and accommodating as adults. Thinking about the obverse, look at the difference in ‘national character’ between Canada and the US of A. I suspect that many American children are not exposed to differences in language and culture at all. Yes, America is full of migrants from south of them, Spanish speakers, but unless there is a helper in the house who is one of these, a lot of households are unilingual. Whereas in Canada all children are deliberately taught French and it is presented usually in a fun way through song and poetry and games. It seems to me that we are more flexible and accommodating than Americans. Sorry? Eh?

 At any rate, it is an excellent book, spoiled for me only by the lack of information that the author has about Canadian children and language learning. She cites European examples of routine dual language provision and misses the Canadian one entirely. She also perpetrates the ‘oot and aboot’ myth. What she does get right is that the central Canadian accent is, in fact, the preferred and most widely accepted accent in North America, as witness the news anchors on major American television who were born and raised in Canada.

 Amusingly, I recall getting jumped on when I started university in eastern Ontario. Why? For my ‘American’ accent and speech. I was brought up in the border town of Windsor, Ontario, a smallish city that sits across a one-mile-wide river from Detroit, Michigan. One mile south of Detroit, in fact, if you want to be confused. We routinely listened to Detroit radio for the music, ‘Motown’ and wonderful, and those with TV’s got American stations. There was a small CBC presence but it was not widely followed. We all picked up American slang and cadence. I worked very hard to lose my ‘Americanisms’ but some of them are still there, even sixty years on.

 After I read this book, though, it came to me that I have speech mannerisms that are somewhat unusual. One is my active vocabulary. I routinely use words like ‘impunity’ that are not common. As well, I watch my enunciation carefully, the result of teaching English as a Second Language to adults. Someone who met me lately asked me if I had been a teacher and when I said yes, laughed and said it was obvious. I also remember from my school days being asked in annoyed tones if I had swallowed a dictionary when I used a ‘big’ word instead of the usual one. At the local community hall where I volunteer, there are two women who obviously dislike me and after I read this book, I wondered if my speech mannerisms explain this. Maybe I sound to them like a show-off? If so, too bad, as it is now too late for the leopard to change her spots. Or even go back and fix up that sentence in the first paragraph? Nope. Leaving it. Authentic voice rules.

 Put down the red pencil, already.

 

Note: Grammarly wants me to substitute ‘perpetuate’ for ‘perpetrate’ in the 4^th paragraph. I think the substitution is better. Comments, ex teacher readers?

Trump and the border with Canada

 Here is what the Washington Post said this morning about the Canada ‘deal’ that delayed Trump’s tariff threat. And, note the underlined comment on seized fentanyl.

“The actually new things that came after Trump’s threat, apparently, are the fentanyl czar, labeling cartels terrorists, the $200 million and 24/7 eyes on the border.

Most of these are geared toward fentanyl. But it’s worth emphasizing that the flow of fentanyl from Canada is a tiny percentage of the drug that’s seized at U.S. borders — about 0.2 percent. Border authorities seized about 43 pounds in 2024, compared with more than 21,000 pounds from the Mexican border. And data shows that the vast majority of fentanyl seized from Canada — about 80 percent — was brought by U.S. citizens.

That’s not to say halting however much of the deadly drug that can be halted wouldn’t be significant. U.S. authorities have been concerned in recent years about fentanyl “super labs” in Canada. But Canada already appears to have made significant headway in cracking down, including dismantling what Canadian authorities say was the nation’s largest drug lab a few months ago.

And it’s a far cry from how Trump has sold the importance of halting fentanyl from Canada, which often includes false statistics.

In other words, Trump has tried to set this up to look like a much bigger win than it really was — which, as ever, appears to be one of his overriding priorities.”

It is very discouraging to read the news these days as we know that the MAGA people do not believe fact in front of them, but I am going to do some political posts, just because.

And, as a comment. I would eat cattail roots and burn my precious books for warmth rather than exist in a Trump run 51st state.

Winging It?

 

It appears that Doug Ford has, indeed, called a provincial election. American friends, I hope you will not be bored, but Ontario is going to vote in February, of all times, because our junior fathead of a premier* thinks he can get a better mandate than he has.  At present both of our opposition parties are weak, having poor communication and not much positive spin. Ford says he wants a stronger mandate in order to deal well with the senior fathead that you lot just put in charge.** I do think this whole thing is an exercise in futility, but … our local member of the provincial legislature (MPP) is a man I know and like, both personally and as an effective representative. So, I am going to hold my nose and support him. Be prepared to read about Canadian politics this coming month.

I shook my head until it rattled earlier today. I was reading a post about effective communication and the writer used the word ‘disfluent’. (Note that it can also be spelled as dysfluent, and there is some evidence that the ‘I’ and ‘Y’ spellings have different connotations.) If I had been freewheeling writing a similar article, I would probably have said ‘halting speech’, with ‘halting’ in the sense of slow and hesitant, especially through lack of confidence; faltering. (Oxford Dictionary). \’Halting’ is a gerundive of ‘halt’, meaning stop. The ‘I’ spelling usage is, I guess, handy if one wishes to be very, very politically correct. Why? Well, the use of the ‘halt’ gerundive might offend someone whose gait is not smooth, as in “the halt and the lame”. (Truth; I have no idea, but I suspect the word looks erudite.)

I would be in Marathon today if the Florida trip had been a go. I have not looked up how cold it is down there, lest tears render my keyboard too slippery to use, but I did note that the average temperature is 76°C. Since my daughter had a house sitter set up and a plane ticket, she has zoomed off to Europe and is, if I recall correctly, going to be in England today to see an exhibit and thence will travel to to Cyprus to visit a friend. I observe that a career as a foreign service officer has a side benefit of the acquisition of friends all over the world. Nice. Let us see what Cyprus offers by way of climate in January. “January, along with February, is the coldest month in Cyprus. On the lowlands minimum temperature might go below 7-8°C in the coastal areas and 5-6°C inland. Average maximum temperature in January is about 16-18°C.” Yeah. And there are probably flowers coming out in England.

Ah well. "Cold winds shall blow, and we shall have snow, and what will Cock Robin do then, poor thing? Sit in a barn and keep himself warm, and tuck his head under his wing, poor thing.” (That was from memory.Here is the original.  I am, of course, quoting Mother Goose. I would have said Shakespeare, Midsummer Night’s Dream, but I was wrong. Well, it is over fifty years since I had much ado about Shakespeare.

*American friends, note that the federal usage for gov’t is Prime Minister, Member of Parliament (MP) and the provincial equivalents are Premier and MPP. We usually call the federal gathering of elected representatives Parliament and the similar provincial gathering the Provincial Legislature. They are both ‘parliamentary’ systems, with the Queen’s representative, the Governor General the titular head of the federal system and separate representatives, the Lieutenant Governors, one in each province. I am sure this is more than you ever wanted to know.

** Under parliamentary procedure, the governing party, should it have a majority in the legislature, is able to dissolve the session and trigger an election. Ford’s Conservative party is governing with a majority at present.

The Rend of an Idea

 

On Sunday night I did something that I had not done in a long time. I had a full-out, tight-chested, fist-clenching panic attack. The reason, the need to make the decision not to go on a vacation to the Florida Keys, a trip that my daughter and I have been researching and planning for since last summer. Why quit, three days before departure time? Pain, pure and simple.

 Just before Christmas I pulled something in my right arm and was provisionally diagnosed with what my doctor called ‘frozen shoulder’. On Tuesday of last week I did something else to the wretched joint, or my neck or something, and have been, off and on, in severe pain ever since. More on than off. I have been snatching naps in a chair (which is lousy for the neck positioning), going to sleep at odd times if the pain eases up, and generally doing no good.

It became clear that sitting in a car between here and Montreal, then sitting in a plane between Montreal and Miami, then sitting in a car between Miami and Key West, was not going to be workable. Any jolt to the arm sent a zap of pain akin to an electric shock across the shoulder and down the arm. And while I could get some relief by wedging the arm between the arm of my chair and my hip, doing anything constructive while in this position was, let us say, a problem. Getting to our cabin by the sea was not on and doing anything while AT the cabin looked just as impossible. Sit by the sea and not go swimming? Be in the Florida Keys and not explore? Be in Key West and not stroll the town? What was the point.

Some few deep breathing spells and nose-blowing ensued as I discussed this with JG. The next day I had to break it to my patient and loving daughter, who was wonderful about everything and has set about undoing all our reservations, tickets and plans. I am going to need a doctor’s certificate and I have an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow. Will report. I hope she is onside since if she is not we are out a pile of money. In American funds. That we paid at a lower exchange rate than is now extant. One more strike against Mr Trump and his hangers-on.

(Adding ... Doctor approved letter now emailed to daughter. Doctor agreed with trip cancellation but had no advice about the shoulder.)

Speaking of which, I have decided to stop reading American news. Just. Cannot. Believe. The. Nonsense. I am looking out some old detective stories and going through books that I think should be donated, but need a rereading first. Perhaps our neighbours will want that pile of newspapers that JG has read piled up in the living room. Perhaps I will play lots of online Scrabble. And nap, as the neck allows. And quit this, as the shoulder and arm demand.

 Robert McNamara. Actor, writer, singer… husband, father… union member: AEA, SAG/AFTRA, WGA… believer in democracy… native New Yorker… now a New Mexican

He blogs

. This is some of what he said today.

“Trump now feels that his barrage of Executive Orders demonstrates he is all powerful and that he can openly and corruptly use his position to increase his family’s wealth. He seems to think this “shock and awe” approach to governing will overwhelm the opposition, that we will retreat to safe spaces and disengage. It is a serious miscalculation.

First, we must remember that Trump is a narcissistic sociopath with no impulse control. He is not strategic but impulsive. In less than 24 hours, he has already overreached. He will continue to do so. It will be his undoing.

To be clear, Trump will cause a lot of damage to our democracy, but he is not the only problem. The entire Republican Party is complicit. They are willingly riding the Trump MAGA tiger to rescind all the significant advancements of the 20th Century in America. It’s now clear that “Make America Great Again” is about returning the US to the late 19th century when the wealthy robber barons controlled the economy, when “Jim Crow” ruled the Deep South and when women didn’t have the right to vote.

Trump’s first miscalculation is that he does not have a mandate.

To be clear, Trump won the Electoral College and the popular vote in 2024, but his victory margin was only 49.8%. That means 50.2% of the voters wanted someone else to be president, including the 48.4% who voted for Kamala Harris. Any smart leader would try to find a middle ground to advance their proposals. Trump is not smart. He is arrogant and a self-centered wannabe dictator.

The other fact we must remember is that the US is a vast country with 50 different state governments. The decentralized structure of our democracy, which often stymied Biden’s agenda, will work to our advantage. For those fearing the start of a German-style dictatorship, geography is against it. By way of comparison, Hitler’s Germany was just a little larger in size than the state of New Mexico.

And despite the outrageous immunity ruling by right-leaning Supreme Court, the US still has a robust court system filled with extraordinary federal judges who have lifetime appointments.

I do hope this is how things will play out. Voices sich as this give hope in dark days. I found this link on the blog of a courageous American Black woman whom I follow. She and her family are a delight and her writing is often inspirational and always interesting. 

Slow Saturday

I am still hampered by a locked rotator cuff. I have seen my doctor, and have been enrolled in physio, booked for an ultrasound (In mid February, the best our beleaguered health system could produce) and treated with both sympathy and some laughter as I struggle with coats, purses, shoe bags and other necessary paraphernalia, including a cane. I need at least three arms when they are all working. This is, of course, January in eastern Ontario, when a heavy coat, boots and (do you have gloves, mother?) other shields against the cold are, as the French would put it, de rigeur. Or, I think that is how it is spelled. The bot is not buying it.

So, I have been reading, starting a sort-out and paring down of my office ‘stuff’, and generally not doing very much of anything. Yesterday was a blue sky day, but cold. Today has been much milder (my gloves and hat are in the car, dear) and cloudy with a few dispirited sprinkles of snow. As of now, 4:30 p.m., the light is almost gone and there are gray clouds against a pale, pale blue sky. The long evenings of winter can be dispiriting for lovers of light and sun, but at least sunset is beautiful.

Our gravel road has been scraped and sanded within an inch of its winding life so driving was not as bad as I had expected. I can get my right hand up onto the steering wheel, so driving is fairly easy. What is not easy is reaching the button, on the right-hand side of the steering wheel, of course, that turns the car on and off. I was doing that, clumsily, with my left hand early last week, but can now lift the right arm by its elbow and push it up to reach the button.

The world is designed for right-handed people, as all of us who are lefties know, but the disparity really comes to one’s attention when the right arm does not work at all. Our new refrigerator has a lovely push-button arrangement to dispense cold water. It is positioned on the left-hand side of the machine, just inside the door. Impossible to use to fill a water glass except with the right hand. Well, it can be done with the left hand if the left arm is not holding the door open at the same time. Shouldering the door instead sort of works and Mary the human pretzel has mastered this operation.

Note, new refrigerator. It is lovely. It has a two door cold storage top and a freezer drawer that pulls out, complete with ice machine. It has lights. It has glass shelves. JG went to the store to buy a less expensive model, saw this one, and we are luxuriating in its features. I will no longer drop heavy cold frozen food on my feet when digging in the freezer. Also, we have a new washer, since the drum on our previous machine subsided into the body with loud groans. The new machine is supposed to be the simplest the store sold, (I shopped for that appliance) but its directions for use, presently spread out on my desk, include a notation on a steam cycle and other goodies. Oh, yes, of course the pull-out that one fills with soap is located at the top left corner, assuming that the user will reach with the right hand to lift the (oversized) laundry soap container.

Well, new frig, new washer, but, alas, no way to source and attach a new arm.  Too bad, eh?

 This is a post that Jean Chretien wrote and made public. It is so, so relevant and so eloquent. I am reposting it wherever I can find a public space.

American friends, this man was our prime minister for many productive years.

"Today is my 91st birthday.It’s an opportunity to celebrate with family and friends. To look back on the life I’ve had the privilege to lead. And to reflect on how much this country we all love so much has grown and changed over the course of the nine decades I’ve been on this Earth.

This year, I’ve also decided to give myself a birthday present. I’m going to do something in this article that I don’t do very often anymore, and sound off on a big issue affecting the state of the nation and profoundly bothering me and so many other Canadians: The totally unacceptable insults and unprecedented threats to our very sovereignty from U.S. president-elect Donald Trump.

I have two very clear and simple messages.

To Donald Trump, from one old guy to another: Give your head a shake! What could make you think that Canadians would ever give up the best country in the world – and make no mistake, that is what we are – to join the United States?

I can tell you Canadians prize our independence. We love our country. We have built something here that is the envy of the world – when it comes to compassion, understanding, tolerance and finding a way for people of different backgrounds and faiths to live together in harmony.

We’ve also built a strong social safety net – especially with public health care – that we are very proud of. It’s not perfect, but it’s based on the principle that the most vulnerable among us should be protected.

This may not be the “American Way” or “the Trump Way.” But it is the reality I have witnessed and lived my whole long life.

If you think that threatening and insulting us is going to win us over, you really don’t know a thing about us. You don’t know that when it came to fighting in two world wars for freedom, we signed up – both times – years before your country did. We fought and we sacrificed well beyond our numbers.

We also had the guts to say no to your country when it tried to drag us into a completely unjustified and destabilizing war in Iraq.

We built a nation across the most rugged, challenging geography imaginable. And we did it against the odds.

We may look easy-going. Mild-mannered. But make no mistake, we have spine and toughness.

And that leads me to my second message, to all our leaders, federal and provincial, as well as those who are aspiring to lead our country: Start showing that spine and toughness. That’s what Canadians want to see – what they need to see. It’s called leadership. You need to lead. Canadians are ready to follow.

I know the spirit is there. Ever since Mr. Trump’s attacks, every political party is speaking out in favour of Canada. In fact, it is to my great satisfaction that even the Bloc Québécois is defending Canada.

But you don’t win a hockey game by only playing defence. We all know that even when we satisfy one demand, Mr. Trump will come back with another, bigger demand. That’s not diplomacy; it’s blackmail.

We need another approach – one that will break this cycle.

Mr. Trump has accomplished one thing: He has unified Canadians more than we have been ever before! All leaders across our country have united in resolve to defend Canadian interests.

When I came into office as prime minister, Canada faced a national unity crisis. The threat of Quebec separation was very real. We took action to deal with this existential threat in a manner that made Canadians, including Quebeckers, stronger, more united and even prouder of Canadian values.

Now there is another existential threat. And we once again need to reduce our vulnerability. That is the challenge for this generation of political leaders.

And you won’t accomplish it by using the same old approaches. Just like we did 30 years ago, we need a Plan B for 2025.

Yes, telling the Americans we are their best friends and closest trading partner is good. So is lobbying hard in Washington and the state capitals, pointing out that tariffs will hurt the American economy too. So are retaliatory tariffs – when you are attacked, you have to defend yourself.

But we also have to play offence. Let’s tell Mr. Trump that we too have border issues with the United States. Canada has tough gun control legislation, but illegal guns are pouring in from the U.S. We need to tell him that we expect the United States to act to reduce the number of guns crossing into Canada.

We also want to protect the Arctic. But the United States refuses to recognize the Northwest Passage, insisting that it is an international waterway, even though it flows through the Canadian Arctic as Canadian waters. We need the United States to recognize the Northwest Passage as being Canadian waters.

We also need to reduce Canada’s vulnerability in the first place. We need to be stronger. There are more trade barriers between provinces than between Canada and the United States. Let’s launch a national project to get rid of those barriers! And let’s strengthen the ties that bind this vast nation together through projects such as real national energy grid.

We also have to understand that Mr. Trump isn’t just threatening us; he’s also targeting a growing list of other countries, as well as the European Union itself, and he is just getting started. Canada should quickly convene a meeting of the leaders of Denmark, Panama, Mexico, as well as with European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, to formulate a plan for fighting back these threats.

Every time that Mr. Trump opens his mouth, he creates new allies for all of us. So let’s get organized! To fight back against a big, powerful bully, you need strength in numbers.

The whole point is not to wait in dread for Donald Trump’s next blow. It’s to build a country and an international community that can withstand those blows.

Canadians know me. They know I am an optimist. That I am practical. And that I always speak my mind. I made my share of mistakes over a long career, but I never for a moment doubted the decency of my fellow Canadians – or of my political opponents.

The current and future generations of political leaders should remember they are not each other’s enemies – they are opponents. Nobody ever loved the cut-and-thrust of politics more than me, but I always understood that each of us was trying to make a positive contribution to make our community or country a better place.

That spirit is more important now than ever, as we address this new challenge. Our leaders should keep that in mind.

I am 91 today and blessed with good health. I am ready at the ramparts to help defend the independence of our country as I have done all my life.

Vive le Canada!"

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook