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

Please Sir, may I have some more?

 I cannot resist posting this. It really hit my funnybone. This is the same kitty that knocked the tinsel off the ED's Christmas tree. Caption ideas happily received.

The Hiatus Report

Not these candles - I still have these. And the birds.

 I am painfully typing this by propping the heel of my hand on the keyboard as I have banged up something called a rotator cuff (maybe?) and my right arm will not lift. Luckily I am left-handed. Even more luckily I have two wonderful daughters and a wonderful added son (I am calling him the son outlaw, or SOL) who dealt with the Christmas feast. This included cooking (thank you YD), planning and plating (thank you ED) and stripping the bird (thank you SOL).  And my gratitude to all of them for taking home most of the leftovers. As well, the YD made a splendid Christmas Eve dinner. Grandkid’s older brother is vegetarian and I am shellfish allergic so we got a special dish. The rest of them had a marvellous concoction of mussels, oysters, shrimp and whitefish and we all had chocolate fondue for dessert. I do not want to see or think about food until maybe February. Talking to the ED about this, she says that she is about turkeyed out. Yes, indeed.

SOL and grandkid’s Bouche de Noel was spectacular. Both visually and to eat. And, arm or not, I got a sort of Christmas theme onto the festive table. I even, with some pain, sacrificed three of my beautiful wax Christmas tree candles for table decorations. I LIT them and they flamed beautifully all through the Christmas feast. There are still more beauties in the box for later years, though. It had to be a nice table as that was all there was. No wacky Lanark tree. See arm will not work, above.  I hear that the ED’s tree is large and the wacky bit is being supplied by the grandkid’s cat who is removing the tinsel strips from the bottom branches (by whacking them, of course). At least he is not crawling into the gift bags as the last cat loved to do. It is difficult to spot the candles in this shot, but if you look carefully, their brave little flames can be seen.

We endured a wet, gray gruesome day today, Sunday, but I guess the weather and post turkey somnolence held the crowd at the supermarket right down to reasonable and JG was able to get the shopping shopped. He even found parsnips, with some puzzlement, and I sliced some into the stew I made for supper. JG looked at his plate with even more puzzlement and allowed as how he did not see any of that vegetable I had asked for in his serving. So, I speared a fine white round from my plate and gave it to him. Please understand that we have had parsnips before in our sixty-one and counting years of married life. But I guess I have never asked him to buy them. He visited three stores to get his whole list, and the parsnips were in the last one. What was not anywhere were balls of suet for our birds. The bird count is on the 30^th, and we speculate that all the local birders have stripped the suet out of the store to use as bait for their count. I hope the weather improves for them.

YD is having fine weather hiking up and down, wait, down and then up again in the Grand Canyon. Her gift to herself for a successful retirement. She flew off last week and will be back for New Years Day. Or I think she will. My keyboard has just turned to Canadian and is giving me a È when I want a possessive apostrophe. I think I had better quit this, heave my right hand off the keyboard see if I remember how to switch back to the normal keyboard.

Yeah, and …  wishing you a fine and prosperous new year. Even with the idiots in charge in both our countries, may many good things come to you.

It's Beginning to ...

 I am looking out at a grey afternoon with low cloud and fine, fine snow showering down. More of a November feel to it than pre–Christmas December. Both my daughters have their trees, and the YD is supposed to be putting hers up this afternoon. We will see what happens with the cats in both households. The granddaughter has her terrible brat of a cat home for the holiday and the YD’s younger cat has never been exposed to a Christmas tree, having started life in Pakistan.

Edited to add the first encounter of Gilgit and the tree. So far, so good.

I have my present wrapping stuff out of storage, but only one set of gifts so far. I would be shopping except. Except. Covid. We went to a dinner party a week Wednesday and I came home with a case of it that developed over the weekend. And JG has caught it from me. Both of us are still showing two lines on the tests and so no shopping is being done. The YD stocked us up with food on the weekend and both daughters are on standby if we have needs, but you cannot send someone to buy their own Christmas present. Unless you are my father, that is. He did that.

I remember with some glee the year he handed my teenaged self a large sum of money and told me to go to a lingerie shop and buy my mother a beautiful nightdress. And I did that. And wrapped it. The look on my mother’s face when she opened it and stared at my dad was, um, priceless. I think his only foray, ever, into Ladies’ Intimate Garments was a trip with me just before I was married when he insisted I buy a pair of lovely silk pajamas and went with me to get them. For my wedding night. He also tried his formal and inhibited best to tell me not to expect too much from my groom on this occasion. And was much relieved, although red-faced, when I told him it would not be a problem since I ‘had my period’. (What my mother had trained me to say. SHE called it ‘the Curse”.)

I started writing this in a very dark mood, but telling that story has cheered me up no end. I did love my father a lot, even when I wanted to dot him one with a heavy object. After my mother died, he moved himself into an apartment in a seniors’ building, divested himself of my mother’s ‘stuff’ (the grandkids got it) and enjoyed a new lifestyle, even setting up a lovely girlfriend. But his lifestyle did encompass my participation. 

The most egregious trick he played on me was what happened when the building supervisor asked him to join the management board of the building. He declined but told her that I would be delighted to take part. I was elected in a flash, and ended up secretary, of course. I also had to be on call to drive him to appointments and events. And was not, ever, allowed to make him the slightest bit late. When he was planning an excursion, he would line up everything he would need on the hall floor in his apartment, including hat, library books, cushion for the car seat in cold weather, etc. I learned to open the door just a bit, cautiously when I called for him. The grandkids were adult by this time, and they thought the whole thing was very funny. I am sure my grandkid is chuckling over her mother and aunt complaining about me, indeed, perhaps at this very moment. 

On the other hand, they are probably too busy disentangling cats from Christmas trees.