::: THE "TO DO" LIST ::: Yesterday was it. I couldn't procrastinate any longer than I already have, so it was time to get things done. My list consisted of getting my annual Flu vaccination. Wait time: 2 hrs. A near miss, but done. Hahaha, doctor: "Didn't I order a bunch of tests I wanted you to have?" I grinned, "Yup, you sure did and I'm going to the hospital right now." She smiled wanly, "Good." I don't like going for tests on the theory that a) I'm not sick, b) it's a waste of time, money and resources that could be used on people who are really, really sick. If I'm still breathing, walking, talking and laughing, then I'm alive and well. Thank you very much. She was concerned about the concussion I had thanks to my little accident last January. I rattled my brain really good but figured that if I didn't have an aphasia, then how bad could it be? I only told her about it in July. Oh the look she gave me. Could have melted the permafrost above the D.E.W. line. So, leaving her to her charts, it was off to the hospital to make my doctor happy for a change and get a B/P reading, then off to Haematology for blood tests - another 2 hr wait, (I knew I had blood, and it wasn't green), and then over to Cardiology for an ECG all of which the doctor had asked for back in July. That was fast. I hugged a lot of patients and wheeled one woman in her wheelchair down the hallway and generally had a good time making people smile. Waiting rooms and hospitals are dreadful places that nobody wants to be in and some a whole lot less than others. ::: Before I left the hospital I dropped in at the hospital volunteer managed gift shop picked up a few items and as the Senior on staff at the moment and I were looking at things I noticed they had a good stock of chocolate goodies, so I asked her if she liked chocolate. "I love chocolate," she said. So I said to her, "Well tell me, look at them all and tell me which would be your favourite." She couldn't make up her mind, my time was limited, so I picked out a lovely box of mixed dark Belgian chocolates, prettily packaged and together we looked at the contents, "How about these? Do you think?" She liked them, so I added the box to the rest of the few items and after I'd finished paying for everything, I handed the box of chocolates to her and said, "Here, these are for you. Not enough people appreciate what you Volunteers do for others this is my thanks, so "Merry Christmas" and let me give you a hug." I gave her a hug. The look on her face was worth the price of admission. ::: This is nothing new for me, and was actually the reason I went into the boutique to begin with. Anytime I have the opportunity of doing something that is both spontaneous and will make somebody, somewhere feel just a little bit better for that day at least. No charge for either the smiles, the hugs or the little gifts. Everybody wins. ::: Much more 'interesting' was the cab driver who robbed me of twenty dollars because he didn't have change and all I had was a twenty dollar bill. The cab driver didn't have his portable Interac machine with him, which he was supposed to and was how I was going to pay him. He thought somebody at the first Clinic would have change. I told him I doubted it, but I was stuck as had I left the Clinic I would have lost my spot in line, so he said he'd go get change and bring me back what he owed me. Ever hear the expression, "a fool and his money are soon parted?" Uh huh. I don't carry more cash on me than I absolutely need to do whatever it is that I need to do. That twenty was just enough to get me from the Clinic to the hospital and back home again. ::: So there I was in the middle of nowhere when I met a young lady coming out of the building I was in so I asked her if she could please give me a lift to the hospital which she was pleased to do for me after I explained to her what had happened. "No trouble at all," she said. We introduced ourselves to each other. I learned her name was "Meagan" and that she had just graduated from college with a degree in Physiotherapy and that she was in Montreal looking for work even though she was from Northern Ontario and had just driven in for the day. I said, "Oh good, let's just keep driving all the way back to Ontario as I was hoping to move there and that she could point me in the right direction." She laughed and then told me how much she loved Montreal and that this was where she had taken her college courses here and would love to live here. "No jobs in Ontario?" I asked her. The answer was negatory. She said the biggest problem was that to work in Montreal she needed French to pass the Board tests. I agreed that it was a major, major problem here for all professionals coming into the Province. I said that was a pity, here she was wanting to get into Montreal and that I wanted to get out of it. We exchanged email addresses and she drove off. Talk about twists of fate. I had what she needed and she had what I wanted. Life is can be both wonderful and strange all at the same time. ::: Not finished with my To Do List I had to then go to the Shopping Center from Hell. That particular Mall is so badly designed that once you get into it you may end up being like the man in the M.T.A. who never returned. I avoid Malls like the plague but sometimes you simply don't have any real choice. This was one of those times. I'd been on the run since 8:30 AM and it was now late afternoon and I was getting very tired, but I pressed on. My quest was my year end hunt for calendars. You'd think it a simple matter, right? Wrong. I went to the Hallmark store and immediately felt like the Three Bears in the fairy tale. I always need four things: a wall calendar big enough that I can actually see the days with space to write notes, a large size Agenda for my desk, a small one for my fridge, and a new address book which has to be new every year since people have this bad habit of dropping off the planet one way or the other: in a car or in a box. At least that's the way it is when you reach a certain age. My list is growing ever shorter. All done. ::: I had one more thing to do. Did it, only to find out when I got home that it was the wrong size. Damn. Translation: I'll have to return it. Arggghh! ::: As I was about to leave the shopping center I passed the jewelery store, and because I know the owners, I dropped in to say hello and wish them holiday greetings. My friend says, "How about a nice..." I smiled broadly, "Good luck on that one, but nice try." I only wear three pieces of jewelery and then only when I have to go out. Standard issue I've been wearing for decades. As I was about to exit I bumped into a very old girlfriend of mine I hadn't seen in a year. I almost didn't recognize her she had changed so much. She introduced me to her daughter, hugs all around, we chatted and caught up with the latest news in our lives and with promises to meet each other as soon as the dust settled for her, a quick hug and I was gone. It felt like midnight and had grown very cold outside. Another cab, some good chatter and home sweet home. ::: The problem with going anywhere today is sensory overload. There is just too much of everything everywhere in massive quantities. It's amazing what I don't need. If I never saw another store in my life it would suit me just fine. Getting me to leave home is harder than trying to stuff feathers back into a pillow. Terminal exhaustion sets in and my brain turns to mushy wet noodles and my ears ring. But oh, I do meet lovely people no matter where I go. I just don't want them all in my house all at the same time in one room. :::

::: Artist: Jeanette Trepannier, Title: "The Curious Ones" ::: This native Quebec artist is a treasure. ::: Quebec produces some of the very best artists in all of Canada. They are admired, appreciated and collected by knowledgeable collectors of Fine Art and are well represented all over North America and Europe in private collections, museums, corporate offices which makes me me feel very happy and gives me a sense of satisfaction knowing that we may not be big, but we are visible - if you know where to look. ::: Having said that, if you ask me, there are too many "curious ones" on the 'Net. It has become quite invasive and is growing ever more so. :::

::: Thank you, Syd. :::

::: CANADA GETTING SET TO REJECT KYOTO PROTOCOL ::: I see trouble in Paradise coming up. :::

::: THE NEXT ONE :::I lost my tan in Italy and I got fat on pasta and the starch of loneliness. I must fast for forty days. Sabina wrote me from the temple in Germany. She said that the old books say you should fast once each year for the number of days corresponding to your age. She was on the eighth day of an intended twenty-eight-day fast. Also I neglected to twist my feet so the heart went crazy. I must phone Patricia who was so good to me. The line is busy. ::: Leonard Cohen ::: From: "My Life in Art" :::

::: Isn't this Oscar the Grouch? ::: Every family has at least one. :::

::: So I hear. :::

::: INCOME INEQUALITY ::: Hung out to dry. ::: 99% of nothing is still nothing. :::

::: Guilty as sin. I'm either a Narcissist or a Masochist, or a bit of both. to even 'think' of writing a Blog - anywhere. In the first case I'd be guilty of thinking I'm somehow "important", a legend in my own mind. In the second, that publicly exposing myself is anything but an exercize in self-indulgence. More likely I'm just a common garden variety of Neurotic. Crazy but not too crazy? Just crazy enough to live in a crazy world. Won't argue about that. :::

::: Only because, as with every Greek tragedy, I need a break ... a breath of fresh air ... it's all getting way too serious. And yes, my cat NADJA is a total darling and has begun to take over my bed at night. Last night she was lying four sheets to the wind, flat on her back, watching me, as I was lay there with her, reading a book. I have even heard Nadja talking, after two years of silence. Yes, talking. Cat talk. She wasn't talking to me, but I heard her calling. Once in awhile she'll come up to me and ask me something. Another thing she likes to do when we are in bed together is these little "Nadja kisses"...she will grab a finger give me a tiny bite, very tiny. She bites. Gently. She's much too small to have big teeth. I suppose she could chow down on my hand if she wanted to. I have concluded that this activity is her idea of a "Nadja kiss". I have also taught her one little trick. Okay it wouldn't impress you, but it does me. Particularly that I haven't spent five minutes teaching any dog, let alone any cats any tricks at all. I admire people who do. But Nadja had a "secret" talent for learning apparently when I had thought she wasn't the brightest thing on four legs. She's quite the girl. We are going through this delayed bonding routine. It's getting tight. First thing you know it's going to be "under the blankies". I've actually caught her sleeping on my bed, and even my pillow when I wasn't even in there. You might think that's no big deal, but it is. For her. When 22 lb Laddie was alive, 6 lb Nadja felt rather overwhelmed by the size of her housemate. Those two played together but not that often. Laddie wanted to, Nadja didn't. She liked to charge him, preferably when he was fast asleep. Hence her nickname: Sneaky Pie Jones. She has never been able to jump up on anything as high as, let's say, a kitchen counter. She couldn't jump up on a table unless there was a chair, or something much lower where she can make her way up by herself. I bought her a fancy cat tree/house...waste of money...she can't use it. I have never owned such a small cat. I have never seen such a tiny cat. Most of her is hair. Under it all, there's not much. Nor was Nadja the runt of her litter. I saw her litter mates. They were all the same size, boys and girls. Through a lot of Online research, I learn that Nadja is a Miniature White Flamepoint Himmylayan Persian. As far as I am concerned, Nadja is PERFECT. In every way. PERFECT. She's cute, she's pretty, she's sweet, she's affectionate, she's quiet, she's well behaved, not at all fussy, she has the most wonderful blue, blue eyes, her hair is like soft silk, grooming her takes all of ten minutes, compared to the 4 hour long sessions I had grooming Laddie, what the heck - she is PERFECT. And I am growing very fond of the girl. Good thing, because she is taking to me as well. In six more months I'll have myself a Velcro Cat. :::

CHARMING, CHARMING, CHARMING. ::: I have yet to get out of my head the visuals concerning the unilingual visiting Polish man stuck in Vancouver's Passenger Airport Terminal for a long, lonely eight hours or so waiting for his mother to pick him up when Airport Security, alerted by the man's obvious frustration which he took out on some chair nearby him by throwing it, whereupon our charming police were called to the scene where they then tasered the man to death! One of him, and five of them. That story is what I called overkill. Terrifying. ::: OK, with that film stuck in my head, not a singular incident by the way, last night I was treated to the somewhat same cast of characters, the Good Cops and the Occupy My City folks. So what do U.C. Davis do? Tasers? Could have done, but thank God ... never mind .... one "smart" policeman gets out a canister of PEPPER SPRAY, slowly and deliberately walks along a long line of seated, non-armed, peaceful demonstrators and sprays them not once, not twice, at least three times before the filming finally came to a halt. Shades of Kent State. All that in the presence of his fellow officers standing passively by watching this whole bit of idiocy to a understandably stunned crowd. ::: Oh boy! It matters not which side ofthe debacle one wants to take. Something does indeed stink in Rotterdam when the only choice the people we trust to "serve and protect" us are the very ones we need to most fear. It isn't mere coincidence when something happens again and again again with the pathetically weak defense by the Police that they felt "threatened". ::: I never want to be anywhere near a large crowd but to say that somebody who volunteers to put themselves in the line of danger on a daily basis, and knows it long before s/he becomes part of the very scene they are positively going to eventually encounter in one very high risk career such as police work, fire fighting, soldiering - any of them - "threat" is in some part the reason these people chose these high adrenaline producing jobs to begin with. It isn't that they are chose walking little old grannies across the street somewhere in the desert. ::: People do not choose to put their very lives in imminent danger for the sole reason because they are "good guys". Most of those choices are about the legal adrenaline highs most people associate with crack cocaine. ::: There isn't enough money on the planet to get me to willingly join a police force anywhere in the world. If I did, I would have to know that one day I would have to kill somebody in cold blood, or get killed in cold blood - by the very nature of my career choice. ::: The high risk, high personal danger requires a very unique individual with a way above average amount of character, emotional stability, psychological stability, uncommon intelligence, uncommon good judgement and the kind of training one might expect of Navy Seals not your every day policeman, fireman or emergency room surgeon. ::: It would seem they are not getting the proper training. I could be wrong. I could be. But I what I do keep seeing is enough to scare the living daylights out of me. :::

INTERESTING HISTORY DOT COM ::: THE MAYFLOWER BEER RUN ::: At least according to one Pilgrim, the reason the Mayflower stopped on the shores of Massachusetts rather than Virginia as they had originally planned was because they were running out of beer. Beer was considered an important part of the daily diet in those days especially on long ocean journeys because it was less likely than water to be contaminated./When a storm blew the Pilgrims off course on their way to Virginia, one Pilgrim entered into his journal "We could not take further time for further search or consideration, our victuals being much spent, especially our beere.". As soon as the Pilgrims set foot on land, they immediately got to work on a new batch of brew.::: Interesting History Facts ::: INTERESTING BOOKS ABOUT THE MAYFLOWER ::: The Mayflower and Her Passengers ::: . . . If You Sailed on the Mayflower in 1620 ::: Yes well, beer is useful if you should ever need to slow a mutiny on board, get 'em pissed to their gills, or distract from the fact that scurvy was not an amusing disease and while lime was critical, beer might have helped pass the time in sick bay half out of your mind. ::: I despise beer, no matter how it is spelled, so I wouldn't properly be a good judge of such matters. But I do know about that doggone SHARE toolbar. :P :::

"INTERESTING HISTORY DOT COM" ::: HOT OFF THE PRESSES via the SHARE toolbar, haven't even had my cuppa yet and just received. Voici ::: Just what every CANADIAN needs to know.: AMERICAN HISTORY! Very useful, specially in FRENCH QUEBEC. Mais oui! ::: Okay, I'm laughing...or crying... both! ::: Four years of High School and American History - it wasn't an "option" - and 70 years of sharing a Border with the USA - from Coast-to-Coast, Sookie & The Situation, Leno and Letterman, American politics 24/7/365 thanks to CNN, FOX Everything, Ron Paul and Sarah Palin, Occupy Everything, Entertainment Tonight, Today, Tomorrow, Forever, the Birthers and the Tea Party (was that in Boston?), Obama all the time, Howard Stern, the News according to Stewart and Colbert, OZ,(what a perfect name for a doctor on Pop TV!) Saint Oprah (ad nauseum for 40 years - was it 40? Felt like it), Ellen (ooh! I could be a switcher hitter with de Generes, her baby blues are enough to turn my head -- for a whole minute) Phil, that 'Good Ole Boy' out of Texas with his homilies, Judy, Judy, Judy the non-Judge, REALITY TV, as if the fiction isn't bad enough, Dancing, Dancing, Dancing with the Starlets - time to retire that Show's Sensitivity Training, not to be outdone by Bieber Fever as if it weren't bad enough that we gave them Celine Everything All The Time Everywhere, The Brit Invasion: Cowell, Piers (Piers? Who the hell names their kid "Piers"? Brits! Haven't they heard of Billy-Joe and Billy-Jean?) Sharon Bleep, just because they "sound" more "intelligent" not that they are, just that nothing beats a Brit accent for sheer "class", eh what?) ::: I thought the "Mayflower" was all about a Madam somewhere in HOLLYWOOD doing up Charlie Sheen and Friends, now I learn via the SHARE toolbar that it was about BEER. American beer!(Have you ever tasted American beer? Water!) But then Columbus was looking for Quebec and found America instead. OOPS! ::: Where do I stop and where I do I start, because I haven't even begun...but if you are a CANADIAN you know where I am going with this. You can stop laughing now. ::: I've got to go deal with real con-trov-ersy, called MONSANTO and PETA and the SEA SHEPHERD...things around here are getting exciting. ::: Oh dear, and you thought it was Alice in Wonderland all this time. No, it wasn't. It was Frankenstein and Frankenfood. The real world we live in. ::: Mutant Everything. I can see it's going to be a tough day ahead. :::

::: "HAY IS FOR HORSES, NOT FOR ME." my very late mother used to tell us if we should ever make the mistake of saying "Hey, Mom..." we were in the dog house for that one. God forbid we ever made the mistake of calling her "Ma". Of course we didn't "get it" when we were young. She commanded respect from us. She got it too. We always knew when we were in the dog house with her, she would precede her sentence with, "WE are not amused." The Royal Imperative. Or she'd say, "I'm not your kid sister, mind your manners." Then when I grew up and became a mother, I understood what she hated about it. It was rude then and it is still rude now. I wouldn't dream of doing it. I'm not a horse either. And definitely not somebody's "Ma". Times change? Hmmm. :::

::: Just about sums it all up for me. The faster I go, the behinder I get. ::: Things that I could say in 10 minutes in a phone call can take 40 minutes writing the blimey thing out. Lordy, I'm getting tired of typing. ::: Edit: 23 Nov. I got a bit of "flack" over this one. My 'opinions' are my own, they don't reflect any one person, or on any one subject. :::

OH NO! ::: I now have to FEED this thing too? Didn't I say that you should never, ever buy anything that you have to feed, water or walk? But "feed" my Blog? Kill me now! ::: Hell, I don't even have the time to read the blimey Manual, let alone feed it! Bummer! ::: This thing is high maintenance and I'm low maintenance. ::: The only way they'll let me out of "The Home" is if I'm wearing my collar and a leash. That's so the caregivers at "The Home" can find me if I get lost. Which isn't hard, believe me. I stray a lot. The mind wanders. ::: I get hives just thinking about 'reading' instructions for anything, if it's longer than three paragraphs. ::: Now you know for certain why I couldn't leave StumbleUpon and why my Categorian blog looks better than does my COLD PRESS web blog. Too many "how to do this" and "how to do thats" Hives I tell you. ::: I gave up trying to programme that new telephone I bought a month ago. Too many pages to the User Manual with all its miniscule piccys - little squigllies all in Mandarin characters. ::: Feeds? Did you say FEEDS? and FOLLOWERS? Get me out of here. I'll be paranoid in a month. ::: I just heard via email - you know, REAL email, the one that isn't Outlook Express - from ONE STONED CROW who apparently isn't stoned at all. Bet he isn't a Crow either! Doesn't look like one to me. I saw him. He didn't have a Crow sitting on his shoulders. But he was wearing sun glasses, and jeans and a T-shirt. So would you, if you were in Nambia. Lots of sun there. Nothing but sun. It rains about three weeks a year. Guten tag, OSC. Danke shoen, for the note. (see? not even this keyboard of mine has accents.) ::: Where's my Geeky Guru when I need him? Oh. I don't have one? Shows, eh? Uh huh. ::: Sigh. I really should go to bed once in awhile. Maybe it would help? ::: Bette Davis would say: "This place is a dump!" I'd have to agree. I should have called it "My Messy Messy Bedroom" instead of Cold Press. I couldn't. My place isn't either a dump or a mess. Quite the opposite. ::: Arf!

::: SOMETIMES I GET LUCKY. VERY LUCKY. ::: Tonight was one those times when I ran into a Blog, "LIFE ON TWO WHEELS...the scoot commute", written by M. David Masse, a native Montrealer who rides his Vespa scooter from home on the West Island to his downtown office and back again home in the evenings. From just looking at his blog, and all of the riding he has done, and all the photos he has taken of all the familiar places that are home to me colours me with a bit of the nice kind of envy one feels when one wishes they could do likewise and admires the one who does. ::: I was a bit curious, so I looked up his Profile which took me quite by surprise when I got to his own web site TRAIN OF THOUGHT, only to discover that M. Masse is a practicing lawyer. But that wasn't what caught my eye, but rather the following quotation he wrote, which I quote in full, for it is significant to me and says much about the man: ::: Welcome.../Bienvenue.../This site serves to publish a number of papers and presentations that I have written./Ce site réunit les différents textes et présentations que j'ai écrit./ I am a lawyer, you will see that in the choice of topics. The law is my profession, but information theory is a fascination. These pages correlate these two strong forces of my professional life./Je suis un avocat, vous le verrez dans le choix de sujets. La loi est ma profession, mais la théorie de l'information est un sujet qui me passionne. Ces pages font correspondre ces deux tendances lourdes de ma vie professionnelle./Here follows the kicker that touched me: :::: "Every search for meaning must follow its own path. I am fortunate to have enjoyed a number of good opportunities to explore this topic. I look forward to many more to come./Chaque exploration doit suivre son propre cours. Je me compte chanceux d'avoir eu un nombre de bonnes occasions de réfléchir sur ce sujet. J'attends avec anticipation celles qui se présenteront à l'avenir./ For every person willing to share information, there seems to be one who won't. Sharing information is perhaps one of those traits that seems to divide us into camps: those that do, and those that don't. I do./ Pour chaque personne disposée à partager l'information, il semble en exister une autre qui est réticente. Le partage de l'information est peut-être un de ces traits qui semble nous séparer en deux camps: ceux qui partagent et ceux qui ne le font pas. Je préfère partager."/This is my contribution./Voici ma contribution./David G. Masse ::: "Every search for meaning follows its own path." On his Vespa scooter M. Masse clears his own path and shares it with anyone who cares to follow, while they seek their own path and find a meaning to it all. ::: Some days, I get lucky. Very, very lucky. :::

::: THE SUBJECT OF 'HUGS'. ::: Within half an hour of meeting you, before we part company, I'll ask you if you want a hug? Not a cyber-hug, a real one. ::: Living in a skin-starved society of 'touch-me-nots' coming by a good hug is an epiphany.::: A hug can tell a whole lot of about a person's state of being in the world, their state of mind is revealed by the mere gesture of a friendly hug. ::: People will react in different ways to being offered a hug. It matters not their gender, age, social status, culture almost no one I have ever met has outright refused a hug. ::: A hug is not like a kiss, it isn't an invitation to something more than what it is. ::: What a hug is is saying, "I acknowledge you. I accept you as you are in this moment, at this time, in this place. Now." ::: Some people I've hugged tense up instinctively. They need hugs more than anybody else. I can feel the tension in their bodies all drain out of them as they relax and melt. A hug can be a powerful thing. ::: You would think that men would be less accepting of a hug than are women. Not necessarily. They may be a tiny bit more "suspicious" about it, but are generally quite accepting as they are surprised that anybody would want to give them a hug. The trick lies in not communicating the wrong message to them. It's not a grope. It has to be more quickly released. ::: Women tend to be more accustomed to both receiving and giving hugs, probably because society more readily accepts and is accustomed to the fact that women are more "touch" prone. The most common reaction I've received from women of all ages is the lighting up of their faces and a their whole interior world is revealed in their melting. ::: I have met relatively few women who are so taken aback by the offer that when they do accept the genuineness of my offer, they'll stiffen, hesitate, and then go for it. I wonder at all that tension in their bodies. I don't need to ask, and I don't. ::: Children of all ages are the best of all when it comes to hugs. They have no such scruples as do adults with all their baggage.:: The elderly are the easiest probably because by the time they reach old age they welcome a hug with open arms and while they are more fragile than others, they are also more grateful that anybody would give them what they need most. Being touched, as they so rarely are. ::: I'm a natural born hugger and have been doing it my whole adult life. I used to wear this little pin on my jacket which simply stated: "Hug Therapist". There isn't a day that goes by, if I am out and about, that I don't give away a free hug to anybody who will accept one and give me one back. ::: So, if you ever meet me in person, know that I will offer to give you a hug. I need one too. So don't be surprised. Give me a hug. :-) :::

::: A PURPLE COW ::::

::: ::: Jest4Fun::::Parodies about purple cows::: A Purple Cow/ By Mr. Gelett Burgess/ I never saw a Purple Cow, I never hope to see one; But I can tell you, anyhow, I'd rather see than be one./ Here is the poem parodied in the style of...::: Edgar Allen Poe/ Parody by Susan and David Hollander::: One lonely, gloomy, windswept eve/ A mournful sound did I perceive./ I cast my eyes beyond the pane/ And to my horror down the lane/ Came a sight; I froze inside/ A spectral cow with purple hide.::: Emily Dickinson/ Parody by Susan and David Hollander::: On far off hills. And distant rills,. Sounds a distant moo.. A purple spot. I think I caught,. Yes! I see it, too!. In Bovine majesty she stands,/ Her purple tail she swings,/ The amethyst cow,/ To my heart somehow,/ Perfect joy she brings./ And yet the thought of being/ Of that race of royal hue,/ Though glowing like the violet sweet,/ It really would not do.::: John Keats/ Parody by Carolyn Wells*::: A cow of purple is a joy forever./ Its loveliness increases. I have never/ Seen this phenomenon. Yet ever keep/ A Brave lookout; lest I should be asleep/ When she comes by. For, though I would not be one,/ I've oft imagined't'would be a joy to see one.::: William Wordsworth/ Parody by Carolyn Wells*::: She dwelt among the untrodden ways/ Beside the springs of Dee;/ A Cow whom there were few to praise/ And very few to see./ A violet by a mossy stone/ Greeting the smiling East/ Is not so purple, I must own,/ As that erratic beast./ She lived unknown, that Cow, and so/ I never chanced to see;/ But if I had to be one, oh,/ The difference to me!::: Rudyard Kipling/ Parody by Carolyn Wells*::: In the old ten-acre pasture,/ Lookin' eastward toward a tree,/ There's a Purple Cow a-settin'/ And I know she thinks of me./ For the wind is in the gum-tree,/ And the hay is in the mow,/ And the cow-bells are a-calling/ "Come and see a Purple Cow!"/ But I am not going now,/ Not at present, anyhow,/ For I am not fond of purple, and/ I can't abide a cow;/ No, I shall not go today,/ Where the Purple Cattle play./ But I think I'd rather see one/ Than to be one, anyhow.::: Got to thinking of PURPLEGEM in Categorian who has a particular affection for the colour "purple". The famous "Purple Cow" immediately came to mind, but I didn't have the gumption to use any of the parodies to Review her, but they'll do nicely here. I chose something else for her, instead. :::

::: COULDN'T RESIST DEPARTMENT ::: From a friend in B.C.:::

::: Thank you, danke, One Stoned Crow. She knows I'm a "lost sole". She just wanted to remind me. :-] :::

::: Photograph by Tim Flach of a sleeping Sharpei. :: Cute when they are puppies. Not so "cute" when they are adults. They lose most all those wrinkles and suffer a plethora of health issues, not the least of which are piles of skin diseases which naturally cost a bundle at the Veterinarian. Need very deep, deep pockets to own a Sharpei. Nor are they benign dogs. They aren't your friendly little Poodle. They are high maintenance dogs and let me tell you, when they move, they move! Like all the 'bulldog' typee, they are headstrong, determined, and not for the Novice dog owner. ::: Let sleeping dogs lie. :::

::: I may put something here, and then again...I may not. ::: Somebody very early this morning presented me with me a mystery to be solved and I've been working on it tirelessly. It may not be worth solving. It may be that I am in the early stages of Alzheimer's, or maybe it's just plain ole' senility. If that is the case, I may not want to know about it let alone be prepared to know about it. Go looking for trouble, it will find you. Ignorance can sometimes be bliss. Stay blissful. :::

::: The the post that follows, which I received from my friend touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes. I had read the story many, many years ago, but something about receiving it, just now, has taken a bit of a twist and turn. Thank you, Tom for the warmth on a cold, dreary night. :::

::: I received the following from my friend just now: ‎Saturday, ‎November ‎12, ‎2011::: Gwen, You may have seen this before./ I thought this was worth sharing./ Enjoy with Love and Blessings, and Thanks for Your Time./ ONCE YOU READ THIS, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND!::: A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door. Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?" "Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.. "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him. "I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said. "You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said "He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important. "Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said. As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away. The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture. Jack stopped suddenly. "What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked. "The box is gone," he said "What box?" Mom asked. "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said. It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom." It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read. Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago.. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside. "Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser." "The thing he valued most was...my time" Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. "I need some time to spend with my son," he said. "Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!" "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away," Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true. 1. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way./ 2 A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you./ 3 Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep./ 4.. You mean the world to someone./ 5. If not for you, someone may not be living./ 6. You are special and unique./ 8. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it./ 9. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world./ 10. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you./ 11. Always remember the compliments you received.. Forget about the rude remarks./ 12 . Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know and you'll both be happy./ 13. If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great./ ::: Send this letter to all the people you care about, if you do so, you will certainly brighten someone's day and might change their perspective on life - for the better. :::

::: SOMETIMES THE HONESTY IS TOO MUCH :::

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:::::::::::::::::::::::: "THE SOUL STEALERS" :::::::::::::::::

::::::::::::::::::::::::: A 'HUMAN' RESPONSIBILITY ::::::::::::::

:::::::::::::::::::::::::: THE SILENT MAJORITY ::::::::::::::::::::

WHAT THE FUCK! ::: History does not repeat itself, it lies - Mark Twain ::: The Statistics on Sexual Abuse are staggering: ::: ONE IS FOUR FEMALES AND ONE IN SIX MALES HAVE BEEN SEXUALLY ABUSED. ::: Current, active,unresolved cases: The Highway of Sorrows - Canada/ Pennsylvania State University - USA/ The Boy Scouts of America - USA & Canada/ Native Indians - Canada/ The Roman Catholic Church - Italy/ ::: Sexual assault takes many forms including attacks such as rape or attempted rape, as well as any unwanted sexual contact or threats. Usually a sexual assault occurs when someone touches any part of another person's body in a sexual way, even through clothes, without that person's consent.::: Rape Outside of law, the term rape ("an assault by a person involving sexual intercourse with another person without that person's consent") is often used interchangeably with sexual assault, a closely related (but in most jurisdictions technically distinct) form of assault typically including rape and other forms of non-consensual sexual activity. ::: Abbey et al. state that female victims are much more likely to be assaulted by an acquaintance (such as a friend or co-worker), a dating partner, an ex-boyfriend or an intimate partner than by a complete stranger. In a study of hospital emergency room treatments for rape, Kaufman et al. state that the male victims as a group sustained more physical trauma, were more likely to have been a victim of multiple assaults from multiple assailants. ::: Attempted rape: Attempted rape is a failed attempt to force sexual intercourse with someone without their consent. Attempted rape under the Criminal Attempts Act 1981 is a 'sexual offense' within section 31(1) of the Criminal Justice Act 1991. ::: Child sexual abuse: Sexual assaults on children are normally viewed far more seriously than those on an adult. This is because of the innocence of the child victim, and also because of the long-term psychological impact that such assaults have on the child. ::: Child sexual abuse is a form of child abuse in which an adult or older adolescent abuses a child for sexual stimulation. Forms of CSA include asking or pressuring a child to engage in sexual activities (regardless of the outcome), indecent exposure of the genitals to a child, displaying pornography to a child, actual sexual contact against a child, physical contact with the child's genitals, viewing of the child's genitalia without physical contact, or using a child to produce child pornography. ::: The effects of child sexual abuse include depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, propensity to re-victimization in adulthood, and physical injury to the child, among other problems. Sexual abuse by a family member is a form of incest, and is more common than other forms of sexual assault on a child, and can result in more serious and long-term psychological trauma, especially in the case of parental incest. ::: Approximately 15% to 25% of women and 5% to 15% of men were sexually abused when they were children. Most sexual abuse offenders are acquainted with their victims; approximately 30% are relatives of the child, most often brothers, fathers, mothers, sisters and uncles or cousins; around 60% are other acquaintances such as friends of the family, babysitters, or neighbors; strangers are the offenders in approximately 10% of child sexual abuse cases. ::: Studies have shown that the psychological damage is often particularly severe when sexual assault is committed by parents against children due to the incestuous nature of the assault. Incest between a child or adolescent and a related adult has been identified as the most widespread form of child sexual abuse with a huge capacity for damage to a child. Often, sexual assault on a child is not reported by the child for several reasons: children are too young to recognize their victimization or put it into words/ they were threatened or bribed by the abuser/ they feel confused by fearing the abuser but liking the attention/ they are afraid no one will believe them/ they blame themselves or believe the abuse is a punishment/ they feel guilty for consequences to the perpetrator/ ::: Elderly sexual assault/ Elderly sexual assault is victimization of persons over the age of 60, most of whom suffer from decreased functionality, frailty, and weakness and therefore are reliant on caretakers. Only 30% of people age 65 or older who are victimized report it to the police. The most common assailants are caretakers, adult children, spouses and fellow facility residents. Signs that an elder is being assaulted include increased vaginal tearing, bleeding, bruising, infection, pelvic injury, soft tissue or bone injury. Also, an altered mood might be an indication of sexual assault. These symptoms include extreme agitation, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, withdrawal, panic attacks, STDs, exacerbation of existing illness, sleep disturbances, longer recovery times. ::: Sexual harassment: Sexual harassment is intimidation, bullying or coercion of a sexual nature, or the unwelcome or inappropriate promise of rewards in exchange for sexual favors. In the United States,(and Canada under the penal code as well as Canada's Charter of Human Rights): sexual harassment is a form of discrimination violates the Civil Rights Act of 1964. ::: The legal and social definition of what constitutes sexual harassment differ widely by culture. Sexual harassment includes a wide range of behaviours from seemingly mild transgressions to serious forms of abuse, and some forms of sexual harassment overlap with sexual assault. Sexual Harassment may include leering, pressure for dates, pressing or rubbing against a person, obscene phone calls, bra snapping, wolf-whistles, lip-smacking, indecent exposure, sexual discrimination, *displaying explicit materials*, sexist jokes, unwanted grabbing, *comments about person's body*, soliciting sexual services. ::: Groping: The term "groping" is used to define the touching or fondling of another person in a sexual way (including through clothing), using the hands, without that other person's consent. ::: Domestic violence: Domestic violence is a crime of power and intimidation. It relates highly to sexual assault. Not only can the abuse be emotional, physical, psychological, and financial, but it can be sexual. Some of the signs of sexual abuse are very similar to those of domestic violence. ::: Emotional effects: Traumatic events such as rape and sexual assault have, aside from obvious physical traumas, profound long-term psychological effects on all victims including but not limited to children who are assault victims. ::: These include: denial, helplessness, dislike of sex, anger, self-blame, anxiety, shame, nightmares, fear, depression, flashbacks, guilt, rationalization, mood-swings, numbness, promiscuity, loneliness, social anxiety, difficulty trusting oneself or others, difficulty concentrating. Family and friends experience emotional scarring including a strong desire for revenge, a desire to "fix' the problem and/or move on, and a rationalization that "it wasn't that bad". ::: Prevalence: A United Nations report compiled from government sources showed that more than 250,000 cases of rape or attempted rape were recorded by police annually. The reported data covered 65 countries. :::

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::: "Beez you got bugz?"/"Yes I are. Everybody dooz."/OOPS!/We alls gotz 'em if we ownz a 'puter./That's the name of the whole game, Folks./Buy a P.C., work for Microdot. ::::

:::

::: This amusing cat thing was a total surprise, when I first saw it. It came as a result of one of those wonky web sites that ask you to insert your name in the space for it and the result will come out in a picture. Well, this is exactly what came out. I thought it was a total riot. I laughed, specially given that it was an off day and I was grouching over something or other. I like both "Today I am an Owl" cat, and my "Growla Cat". Who knew that would happen? So, if it looks like a duck and it walks like a duck it must be...a cat! Growla, Growla, Miaow, Miaow Gwen. :::

::: As a friend once wrote, "wellie, wellie, wellie..." you know, sometimes I get to eat my own words, if I haven't already completely forgotten them, which is more likely the case given I may have reached senility in my old age. It would seem, without actually confirming it with anyone yet, that I have lost an entire year. And darn it, I never even drink anything stronger than milk and/or Zero Coke or consume illegal substances, Oh dear, I have a few close friends, who know me well, who will be just slightly interested in this little memory lapse. More likely it is all due to an extremely heavy overload of stress and an overflowing plate of challenges I've been dealing with in the last couple of years. Eventually something's got to give. Memory is a good one. Dreamt about that almost my entire life. Wouldn't it be lovely to be able to forget in someone who has always a memory like an elephant. Too bad. This is short term memory, not long term. Later on this one, if at all.

WHAT DO I REMEMBER?::: I remember food rationing coupons/I remember boiled, cold potato sandwiches/I remember powdered milk/I remember there not being any butter/I remember that fresh meat was a luxury/I remember Spam sandwiches instead of chops and steak and chicken/I remember going to bed hungry/I remember wearing hand-me down clothes/I remember not having new shoes to wear/I remember the laundry being done in a manual washing machine and boiling clothes in huge pots on the stove/I remember the worry on my parents faces having to feed and clothe five kids/I remember my father who was a Dental Surgeon not being paid by his patients because they couldn't to pay him, but his doing the work on them anyway - free/I remember a lot of things as clearly as if it were yesterday. Most of it formed my character in the ensuing years.::: I remember. I'm glad I do. It has served me well to this day. And will beyond it. ::: I know how live poor with style. I could have written the book on it. I didn't grow up rich, pampered and spoiled. I know how to do without a sense of entitlement. ::: I'm frequently asked how I can go on "fasts", as I do, without damage of my body. Because of my early upbringing, I have never looked at my fridge and thought "food!" I eat to live, not live to eat. I've also been asked how I can do with "so little sleep"? That's a bit trickier to answer without writing an entire book on the subject of "how", but I can say this: I do sleep. Just not maybe when you do. I don't "need" 8 hrs of sleep or more, I can do with 4 hrs quite nicely. I've learned over the years to take "executive cat naps" which serves the purpose. I don't have anybody to "answer to" now, I don't have any children to raise, so that my time is my own. A luxury in itself which I have learned to value. I have never worn designer clothes, I used to joke that I was like the song: "Second Hand Rose"...wearing second hand clothes...as long as the clothes I do wear are clean and pressed, who cares? I don't And that I shower every day without fail. I also remember when my whole world, as I knew it. collapsed in shambles around me at age eleven or twelve when suddenly there was no "house" to live in. And no mother. And a broken down father. And my sibling were suddenly all gone. Oh I have memories, and how those life changing events changed me, and my hopes and dreams for my future was tenuous as best. Every day, of every month, of every year was nothing short of a desperate struggle for survival. I remember having to fly without a net under me. Gone. All of it. Desperate people do desperate things. We do what we have to. I did. It wasn't always "pretty". But it all made me strong and determined and adaptable and taught me all the necessary tools I need were the world to collapse in cinders around me - again. ::: As I look around me at the gloomy economic disruptions reported by the hour in these very uncertain and nerve-wracking times, I suspect that I'll survive it all no matter what because I can adapt, if not as quickly as I could when I was young and strong and healthy and full of the vim and vinegar of callous youth, I will adapt. It might just be a little harder now, a little slower, but experience and a long memory will come into sharp focus as I settle into a new reality. Not if, but when. :::

:::Spring couldn't have lasted for another day. Dark, cold, gray, dreary and rainy. So, went looking for something to liven things up a bit on YouTube. Ended up listening to Montreal Jazz sensation, Nikki Yanofsky. Nicki, turning 18 in February 2012, is no longer the pure Jazz vocalist she was at age 12 and 13 when she sensationalized the music world with her outstandingly mature renditions of Ella Fitzgerald classics. Young Nikki has matured beautifully, yet her success seems not to have changed her sweetness. I suppose it was inevitable that she would expand her repertoire to including a crossover into popular music. When she sings the Sarah Vaughan song "You've Changed" - I couldn't help but thinking to myself, "Right about that." Jazz, and scat in particular, has a much smaller niche in the business than does Pop. She still sings Jazz but I wonder for how long before she succumbs into becoming yet just another popular singer, with albeit a great voice. And the Jazz world will have lost a major talent. There aren't many, so more's the pity. Hope I'll be wrong. I truly do. :::

::: "Mont Royale par nuit," - Mount Royal, by night./ Photographed by J. Roumagnac/ Montreal, as French as a two cheek kiss. / The Paris of North America lovingly photographed by Julien./

::: The Snow Rose/ Love became the rose/ one snow laden winter's day./ Why he had to go none could say./ But every year on the anniversary day/ She leaves one single fresh red rose for him./ Then silently, tears in her eyes -- she walks away./ c) 2010 - Gwen Beauregard - All Rights Reserved:::

::: Lament of An Only Child::: I am an only lonely child,/ I never learned to share./ Wish there were more only children/ They'd keep things to themselves./ The bane of my existence/ Are those Stumblers who want to share/ Everything on the 'Net with me./ Entire web sites come to me,/ Isn't it a bit presumptuous/ Opening doors I don't want to see?/ Why is it that I don't do it?/ Could it be that I haven't a clue/ What is good for you?/ So think next time/ You feel the urge to share./ I'm busy you see,/ Writing really bad poetree./ - Beauregard::: I"m was truly never an "only" child for sure as anyone who reads my blogs well knows. Poetic license used creatively. :::

Doctors and Hospitals in Quebec ::: I have decades of experience with medical doctors. And hospitals. Both have removed a lot of my body parts over the years. ::: This is what I have learned about both. There are two kinds of doctors. One kind is an excellent diagnostician but no "bedside manners". I call them "Dr. Frosty". The other is kind, sympathetic, great "bedside manners" but a lousy diagnostician. The latter may be the doctor I'd want at my bedside, if I were dying. ::: It is really hard around here to find a doctor who possesses both great diagnostic skills and is "Dr. Warmth". ::: Then Medicare's wheels fell off as our finest of the fine doctors emigrated to the USA and other parts of Canada. ::: As to hospitals? There are two kinds of hospitals. One kind of hospital has fantastic doctors and lousy nursing staff. The other kind has fantastic nursing staff and doctors who seem to have graduated at the bottom of their classes in med schools. ::: The trick is to know who's who, and where they are ::: We have a critical shortage of both doctors and registered nurses here. In fact, we need here some 5,000 new registered nurses. It's that bad. There are some 400,000 thousand patients who are called "medical orphans" because they don't have a private doctor of their own. ::: We had a massive "brain drain" in the '80s that left gaping holes in the system. ::: The Governments at all levels did the rest of the damage and flattened the playing field to such an extent that doctors and nurses could make three times more than they were being paid here just by crossing the Borders, and they fled in droves. Twenty years later, about the time it takes to train all these professionals in their specialties, hospitals are overcrowded, doctors have set up private clinics which are overcrowded, nurses are under-educated, foreign doctors who've emigrated here are not allowed to practice because they don't meet Quebec "standards of practice" and are bagging groceries or driving taxis instead of being allowed to do what we so badly need. ::: Doctors in every field are simply not taking on new patients. Some have "opted out" of Medicare and have set up private clinics which are illegal here, but a blind eye answers to money. Money talks. ::: Montreal is in a hospital construction boom and currently building not one, but two new general hospitals that are going to be the size of New Hampshire by the looks of it. Makes me wonder. How are they going to staff these two state-of-the-art facilities by 2012 when they are both supposed to open? Haven't figured out yet how it is that nobody has asked that question. Beats me. :::

I'm practicing. Procrastination. ::: Goes like this: My self-titled doctor gave me this form to go to the horsepistol for blood tests and a cardiogram. That was in June. Haven't gone yet. They might find something. You know how those doctors are. Always looking for trouble. lol ::: Wish it were that simple. ::: This M.D. - a G.P., family doctor to you. - at our local Walk-in Clinic - a few years back was supposed to give me the Annual Flu Shot I go for every October. ::: Routine stuff any Nurse can do. ::: Well, she reaches for a hypodermic needle on the table behind her and stabs me with it, and drops the needle so fast you would have thought she had caught on fire, as all the blood ran out of her head. White as a sheet. I laugh, "O.K. So what happened?" Doctor: "I gave you the wrong shot." "You what?", says I still laughing, "What did you give me? Am I going to die?" Yes, I know. I'm incorrigible. She doesn't say, but turns around picks up her syringe off the floor, turns around and picks up another syringe on the table behind her. OOPS! Gives me another shot. "I want you to wait in the waiting room for 15 minutes before you leave." So, I go into the waiting room where my girlfriend had just had her Flu Shot and, laughing, I tell Claire what happened in the doctor's office. Claire was shocked. "And you're laughing?" she says, "that's terrible. Doctors are NOT allowed to make MISTAKES. I'd be furious and would report her. That's serious." Still laughing, "Oh, Claire. I'm not dead, am I? I'm still here and if I'm laughing, I must be alive." Claire: "Gwen, that's just like YOU. You are impossible." Me: "I know. It's my middle name. Impossible. It was a mistake, Claire. Not a serious one. It happens. Let's go have a bite to eat somewhere. Not waiting around this joint. It's full of *sick* people. I might catch something." LOL - ::: Well, that was a long time ago, but I've never forgotten it, and never will. Of course Claire was correct. ::: Dr. Brilliant is still my G.P. However, I trust her about as far as I can throw her. It's not like I'm sick or anything, I just need her for routine stuff like Blood Pressure testing and to have my Scripts refilled every six months. ::: But Blood tests? Cardiograms? Phooey. ::: I'll either live or I'll die. If I'm not sick - and I'm in better shape and condition than most 193 year olds - it's a waste of valuable hospital resources. If were sick, I wouldn't be going to a lousy Walk-In Clinic, I'd be in an ambulance and going into Emerg, touta sweetie. ::: Stay away from doctors, and hospitals. Specially hospitals. They are full of sick and dying people. ::: Dr. Brilliant, I am convinced is either a horse doctor or graduated at the bottom of her class. ::: Btw, 'welcome to Medicare' Quebec style. Like Welfare, they do not fare thee well. :: And that's my story of the day. It's the truth, and I'm sticking to it. :::

:::Flamepoint Himalayan Kitten:::They start out like this:::Who can resist?:::

:::They end up like this. ::: All hair. No cat. ::::

My profile says that I had "a beautiful dog". That was very true. ::: Sadly, I had to change it to "I have a beautiful cat". Also true. Nadja is very cute: 5 lbs of hair and 1 lb of cat. ::: She missed the dog for quite a while, but she is coming around very nicely. Out of her mourning period. ::: Animals, unlike humans, live in the moment. They don't feel self-pity. They get on with living. ::: Sometimes I'd wish I were my pets. Life would be so simple. Wouldn't it? ::: Wouldn't mind being my own pet, they've all lived in such style. Not spoiled at all, but no worries either. I never did charge any of them rent. (smile) ::: As for that photo you see in my profile? If truth be known wish I still looked like that. It was in the 80s, about the age I am now. Right off my Concordia University I.D. card. Proof I was actually there. Not to be confused with having studied there, just that I was in the building. (grin) ::: I didn't want to scare you to death. I scare myself, and that's enough fright. ::: But in my own defense, if you did meet me in person, you would recognize me by that photo. A tad older, slightly grayer, but not much else has changed.

:::Thanks for your visit...do drop by again. :::

::: BEWARE OF YOUNG GIRLS :: Beware/ Of young girls/ Who come to the door/ Wistful and pale/ Of twenty and four/ Delivering daisies/ With delicate hands::: Beware/ Of young girls/ Too often they crave/ To cry/ At a wedding/ And dance/ On a grave::: She was my friend/ My friend/ My friend/ She was invited to my house/ Oh yes/ She was/ And though she knew/ My love was true/ And/ No ordinary thing/ She admired/ My wedding ring/ She admired/ My wedding ring::: She was my friend/ My friend/ My friend/ She sent us little silver gifts/ Oh yes/ She did/ Oh what a rare/ And happy pair/ She/ Inevitably said/ As she glanced/ At my unmade bed/ She admired/ My unmade bed/ My bed::: Beware/ Of young girls/ Who come to the door/ Wistful and pale/ Of twenty and four/ Delivering daisies/ With delicate hands/ Beware/ Of young girls/ To often they crave/ To cry/ At a wedding/ And dance/ On a grave:::: She was my friend/ My friend/ My friend/ I thought her motives were sincere/ Oh yes/ I did/ Ah but this lass/ It came to pass/ Had/ A dark and different plan/ She admired/ My own sweet man/ She admired/ My own sweet man::: We were friends/ Oh yes/ We were/ And she just took him from my life/ Oh yes/ She did/ So young and vain/ She brought me pain/ But/ I’m wise enough to say/ She will leave him/ One thoughtless day/ She’ll just leave him/ And go away/ Oh yes::: Beware/ Of young girls/ Who come to the door/ Wistful and pale/ Of twenty and four/ Delivering daisies/ With delicate hands/ Beware/ Of young girls/ To often they crave/ To cry/ At a wedding/ And dance/ On a grave::: Beware of young girls/ Beware of young girls::: - Dory Previn :::

:::Just laying around doing absolutely nothing. It's tough work, but somebody has to do it. ::::

I could go dig up some dirt to rant about...just for today...I'll skip it.

What other trouble can I get into today? Help me out. ;)

::: Oh. Is that all? :::

I read a whole slew blogs that are written and posted by Americans, since they dominate the Social Networks. Leaving out extremes of thought, I am left with an overriding sense that the average American is filled with one emotion that permeates everything: profound regret.

:::

:::Sometimes I think that the Old Folks are more Juvenile than the Juveniles. ::: Four times today I have received things I wouldn't even send my own Grandmother, even IF she did have a sense of humour. :::: She didn't. :::: No wonder they won't sign their names. I wouldn't either. ::::

:::: We all have our days, don't we? ::::

Those doggone "labels" ::: I'm either dyslexic or I kan't spel. ::: Either way, I hate "labels" and/or "tags". ::: I've had "tags" - pesky things. Probably related to a virus of some kind. Don't care. But they do hurt. They are skin tags. Tiny white appendages that form on the epidermis as fatty little deposits. Left untreated, they can grow and spread like all tags. ::: As for labels, I don't like them either. They are ubiquitous and show up in every piece of clothing we wear. The first thing I cut off of every item of clothing I buy. ::: You go label and tag to your heart's content. I have better things to do with my time. :::

It's a slow News day North of the 49th Parallel. I had to "borrow" from our Cousins south of the Border for a lesson in civics.

A BRIEF LESSON IN AMERICAN CIVICS CLASS::: "A federal republic is a federation of states with a republican form of government. A federation is the central government. The states in a federation also maintain the federation.:: Usage of the term republic is inconsistent but, as a minimum, it means a state or federation of states that does not have a monarch.:: In a federal republic, there is a division of powers between the national ("federal") government, and the government of the individual subdivisions.:: While each federal republic manages this division of powers differently, national security and defense, monetary policy, and other issues of a "national" scope are handled at the "federal" level while more local issues such as road and infrastructure maintenance and education policy are handled at the local level." :: In other words, while the federal government has ultimate sovereignty, there is a limited sovereignty granted to the subdivisions, where the federal government does not have jurisdiction. :: This is in contrast to a unitary republic whereby the national government has complete sovereignty over all aspects of political life, with purely administrative subdivisions, and a confederation whereby the constituent states retain ultimate sovereignty. The form of government is used by many countries around the world." - An American Republican "explains" on StumbleUpon ::: Hey Canada, and Quebec, are you listening? Sort of makes one dizzy, doesn't it? Now if only more Americans would be Canadian, maybe even better, Quebecois, peace and "brotherly love" would reign throughout the world? I think that "lesson" hints at "do it my way, or hit the highway." ::::