Can you ever have too many garbanzo beans?

Over the past dozen years, I have been making healthier lifestyle and menu choices.  

I have been successful with avoiding collections of "stuff" that I don't need or don't have space to store.  I avoid noisy events and unhealthy, controlling relationships.   

A recent attempt at a relaxing meditation session did not prove successful.  Oh, well... Two steps forward and one step back.  Believe it or not, I am also looking for more ways to move my body - without becoming sweatier than usual or severely hurting myself. Salsa, anyone?

Aside from a monthly allowance of bacon and potato chips (yum!), I also try to watch what I eat.

My latest attempt at healthy menu options was cooking an entire package of Ferma brand dried chickpeas - and ending up with A LOT of chickpeas.  Garbanzo Beans Galore! 

That's okay.  Did you know you can pack the beans and refridgerate them for three days? You can add them to rice dishes and salads. Did you also know that you can pack and freeze them for later use? 

A resident young person offered to make chickpea curry one day this week.  Yum again! 

So, what are the benefits of eating chickpeas?  According to the following links, they are high in protein and fibre, plus they help control hunger if you eat them as snacks (instead of those potato chips).  They will also help ladies of a certain stage in life control hot flashes.  Well, we will see about that.  Get back to me in a few months...

Benefits of garbanzo beans:

• 3 health benefits of chickpeas
• What's New and Beneficial about Garbanzo Beans
• How to use natural remedies for hot flashes

This still has me wondering though... Are there any recipes that include bacon? 

Thanks for dropping by.  You are welcome to comment or select one of the reaction check-boxes.   Although I cannot offer you an extra portion of chickpeas through this blog, I can treat you to some excerpts from The Year of the Rabbit - a novel about Fate, Family and Forgiveness.  See what others have shared after reading the book. 

T 

Good vibratience

I admire the patient, well-balanced people. 

My own journey to becoming a more patient and mindful person has taken a few detours over the past couple of years.   

Due to a couple of appointments looming and my wishing to reduce stress levels last week, I had arranged to take Wednesday as a vacation day. 

My early morning started with one cup of instant coffee,  an empty stomach and a team effort to unceremoniously stuff a Tabby cat into her carrier.  She was not allowed to have breakfast prior to a medical procedure.  Being the empathetic person that I am, I chose not to eat either. 
 
We waited and waited for a taxi.  I used my iPad mini to take photos of the Cedar Waxwings invading the cherry trees in my neighbourhood.  It was a pleasant distraction for me but not for the cat.

After waiting patiently for an hour to finally reach a taxi driver who would take a pet in his pristine vehicle, we arrived at the veterinarian's office, apologetic and flustered.  I signed Miss Kitty in for the day, said goodbye and promised to return later in the afternoon.  She was not pleased. 

After treating myself to a hearty restaurant breakfast of steak and eggs, I bussed to my own doctor's office for a pre-arranged appointment.  When the doctor informed me there would be a ten-minute delay, I thanked him and waited patiently, reading Madame Bovary (the English version downloaded to my iPad Mini).  I didn't have the energy to dig out my glasses to read the meditation book I had also toted along.  Besides, after another twenty minutes of waiting, I was not in the state of mind to accept the wisdom presented within.  

When the good doctor was finally ready, he thanked me for being considerate.  Considerate?  I was hoping to hear "patient" or "understanding".

The purpose of the visit was to review the results from tests he had requested a couple of weeks prior.  To be brief, he confirmed that I am at that certain stage in life.  

This explains those sudden hot spells, mood swings and a growing impatience when suffering fools. 

I next made my way to meet an older, wise friend for lunch.  We shared personal and family updates over healthy salads.  We shared thoughts and hopes for the RCC now that it has a new Pope. 

After our lovely visit, I trotted off to another appointment, to be primped by a couple of my favourite beauticians.  They only had a few minutes each to work on me yet the results were above expectations.  

I made it back to the vet's office in time to check on Miss kitty, pay the bill and taxi home.  I chuckled at the sheet of instructions and the cute little tooth brush they gave me.  Yeah, right.  Like I'm going to use this on a cat that isn't even mine.  I doubt she would agree to sit patiently for a weekly brushing without being sedated.

 

The fragmented work week was topped off by a lovely Friday night dinner with a friend then proceeding to a Gong Meditation session.  

It was my third time attending these relaxing sessions over the past year.  Unfortunately, this one was not the best.  A young couple thought it would be delightful to bring their energetic four year-old along. He proved to be a distraction for all the up-tight ladies in the room.

What was I thinking during the 30 minute session? Breathe in. Breathe out. Let the sound waves wash over, relax me ... and gently, firmly descend upon the little imp, pinning him down onto the mat. I was NOT experiencing positive thoughts or words.  Who the heck thinks they can bring a young child to a meditation session and not expect distractions?  Now that was inconsiderate.

The instructor was patient and calmer than necessary through all of this.  At the closing of the session, she spoke of vibrations, sounds and the effect of words that come from our mouths.  

With bulging eyes and a grinding smile, I nodded in agreement with the concept of Conscious Communication.   I just wasn't feeling it.  Thank goodness another session participant took the oblivious mother aside and shared her thoughts.  

My friend and I didn't have the patience to stick around.  We were tired, agitated and just wanted to get home.
 
The next morning, after a restful sleep, I used any residual, angry energy in a positive manner while taking on some house cleaning. I hummed a happy tune as I scooped out the litter box and scrubbed the powder room.

 

The cat?  She's doing fine. She is once again my furry little friend, an artist's muse who allows me to feed her, scratch her chin and rub her belly.

She also gives off relaxing vibrations with her affectionate purrs.

T

Checkups and Journeys

When things get stressful, I listen to classical music to drown out distractions and annoyances so I can concentrate on the task at hand, to stay in the moment.  

At times I will permit myself to dream of exotic destinations, far away places and handsome, reassuring faces. 

Being a proactive dreamer during a recent financial checkup, I set things in motion by starting a "Travel" savings plan with my account manager.  She supported my plans to explore different parts of Canada, the Americas and Mediterranean within the next five years. Surely by then, my young folk will have tested their wings sufficiently and have left the nest.  

By that time, I hope greedy, inconsiderate humans haven't poisoned our planet, our Mother Earth beyond recovery.  I also have hope that radical testosterone levels have subsided so it will be safe to travel to places like Europe and Egypt; to see the architecture, pyramids, the Nile and the great library of Alexandria.  

Maybe by then I can afford one of those consumer space trips and get half-way to the moon?  Fly me to the moon...

Okay… back to reality in my safe little corner of the world. 

As for vacation this summer, I only took one day and worked straight through the rest - except for weekends.  We should thank unions of the past for those.  I do not work in a unionized industry yet offer a shout out to federal public servants who are experiencing yet more job cuts. People need jobs - especially angry, idle young men.

I did not mind working the entire summer since we had a big IT project planned and knew that most users would be taking vacation.  Also, the office has AC so that it made for a comfortable working environment during another stinky, humid Ottawa Valley summer. 

Once the digital dust settled after the technology cut-over, I took time to recover my sanity, to attend to some personal and family issues.  I also made time for a routine medical checkup and consultation.  

During a previous visit with the good doctor, I had asked him what exactly was that scenic colour printout on the ceiling tile above the examination table.  He responded that it was a photograph of a golf course in the UK. 

"How nice," I thought but didn't press him for reasons WHY this or similar images were pinned above the examination tables in all the rooms in his office.  

When I saw it again during my recent checkup, I wondered if it was posted there for benefit of his patients, to keep the ladies calm during probing sessions - or was it there for the benefit of the doctor?  

I put myself in his shoes, thinking about how many baby bulges and lady parts he encounters every day.  I can picture him occasionally looking up to admire the greenness and calm of the golf course on the ceiling and thinking, "Just twenty more of these examinations and I can have that dream vacation…"
 
This brings me to the word "Backpack" I scrawled on a large postit and pinned above my computer workstation a couple of years ago.  

When certain technological "advances" are causing me grief or I struggle to maintain a professional demeanor, I look up and smile at that little sign, that reminder and encouraging word.

Backpack.  

A backpack is a thing you pack for a short or long journey.  Whether it's a physical journey or an emotional one, you get to decide what goes in and how much you are willing to bear.

Backpack. 
 
Aside from the visual and cardiovascular stimulation of watching George Clooney in "Up in the Air", where I first encountered the meaning of word, the phrase "What's in your backpack?", it has for years provided a reminder of where I am (and why); and where I want to be (and when).

In a few weeks, I will once again travel to visit family members.  For this journey, I would really like to take an airplane.  I need to push the limits of my comfort zone, to spread my wings.

Although it has been many years since I have flown, I'll be up in the air and receptive to meeting a charming, salt and pepper haired gentleman.  Ah, George.... If he doesn't materialize, I'll listen to music, read a good book or look out the windows to admire the autumn colours below. 

Yes, indeed.  It will be a good opportunity to relax and appreciate just being in the moment, enjoying the journey and looking forward to the destination.

- - - 
I am tickled pink that you have read this far!  If you like my writing style, you will enjoy "The Year of the Rabbit - a novel about Fate, Family and Forgiveness".  I recently celebrated the one year anniversary of the eBook version's release.  Smashword customers get to set the purchase price.  Do drop by.

T

On birthdays, aging and that "joie de vivre"

My birthday is coming up.   I hesitate to announce it since I don't like too much attention.

Considering my chronological age, I can confidently state that I still possess my original teeth, joints, fingernails, breasts and hair.  

I am though having difficulty discerning the difference between what is a hot flash and what is a reaction to recent weeks trapped in an unbearably sticky summer.


On the one hand, my front teeth seem too big, and my breasts seem too small. Heard this since adolescence...

On the other hand, the joints are relatively flexible and the hair is still a healthy, natural blonde mane sans des produits cosmétiques. 

On neither hand are bangles, rings, fake nails or polish.    

I wonder how women can function with fingernails longer than an eighth of an inch?  Is that hygienic or safe?  Is it even functional?  I'd be afraid of hurting myself or scratching a male companion.  Oh, right.  It's coming back to me...

And the colour - how the heck do you ensure the nail colour doesn't clash with your outfit choice each day?  I suppose one could make exceptions as an Olympic athlete - as long as it goes with the bronze, silver or gold! 

Who has the time or expendable income to frequently apply toxic substances and artificial colours.  Then there's the stuff you need to remove the polish a few weeks later. It is a rare occasion that I will apply a thin, clear layer after a quick trim and filing.  At least once it starts chipping, it's not as noticeable as with "cherry red" or "goth black".  The whole thing seems like a waste of resources and time - time I could spend reading or napping!

Speaking of artificial colour jobs: In the past two weeks five people have complimented or challenged the legitimacy of my natural blondness.  Why should it be so surprising that I don't colour or bleach my hair?  The only reality-altering liquid that comes out of a bottle in my petit apartment is wine and sometimes that just makes me giddy, sentimental or more apt to converse en Français.

Yep. Being a natural blonde has been a blessing and a curse for many years.  Poor me.  It has also been an assumed invitation for family and friends to send me copious emails containing dumb blonde jokes. Sigh.

Without seeming too vain, I hope that similar to my dear old Dad's, my hair will gradually change to platinum then morph into a mature silver-gray by the time I reach retirement age.  I also hope to inherit his folksy disposition, keep my mind and hands skillfully busy and continue to maintain a sense of awe.  

According to Psychology Today, if you want to know your true age, don't look at the calendar.  Don't do it!  Put it away.  (I have the same advice for bathroom scales.)   The article states there's a difference between your biological and psychological age.  I don't mind growing old, as long as happens gracefully.  Sometimes I just don't want to grow up. 

Again, I hesitate to announce MY UP-COMING BIRTHDAY  since family and friends may feel compelled to cover the cake with forty-some candles.  Considering that could be a fire hazard during our drought-like conditions, I advise them to use only one candle.  Tell them to make sure the CAKE contains CHOCOLATE.  A bottle of wine is optional.

- - - 

Goodness!  How I have rambled on.  Is that a sign of aging or an inane urge to share my deep blonde thoughts?  

Thanks for dropping by.  If you liked this blog entry, you can sample wine excerpts from my novel, The Year of the Rabbit.  

(Au sujet du Français, j'ai besoin de quelque gens qui peuvent m'aider traduire le roman en Français (gratuit) durant 2013 et peut être 2014.  C'est fou - ou un bon idée?)


T

Transitions and wardrobe malfunctions

This deep blonde entry is for those who are also going through transitions, either personally or professionally. 

In addition to Middle Age, the following are a few more books I have been reading lately, addressing personal, artistic and professional transitions. 

While out and about town a few weeks ago, I visited a branch of the Ottawa Public Library I hadn't been to before.  Although they didn't have the exact books I was looking for, I picked up a few that were related. 

Transitions - Prayers and Declarations for a Changing Life by Julia Cameron

http://www.amazon.ca/Transitions-Julia-Cameron/dp/0874779952

"Julia Cameron shares beautiful prayers of empowerment followed by potent declarations and reflections on the nature of change and coping."

This book is the perfect size for reading while riding or waiting for a city bus.  In previous years, I have also read and attempted the 12 week program from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way.  I really got a lot of benefit from the morning pages exercise. 

"The Artist’s Way is the seminal book on the subject of creativity. An international bestseller, millions of readers have found it to be an invaluable guide to living the artist’s life."

Selected quotes from Transitions:

• It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end.  - Ursula K. Le Guin

• To keep a lamp burning, we have to keep putting oil in it. - Mother Teresa

• People need joy, quite as much as clothing.  Some of them need it far more. - Margaret Collier Graham

That last quote goes out to the other middle aged lady I encountered, running errands today in the 30 C plus heat.   Sweetheart, the next time you head out on a breezy, hot day in a light sun dress, please remember to wear panties.  Parking lot up-drafts can be embarrassing - for everyone!  I don't feel so silly now for wearing my big, floppy sun hat.

The next book is one that was interesting yet a little to tiring to read all the way through.  Yes, I skipped a few pages, looking for gems and interesting bits.

Light in the Dark Ages: The Friendship of Francis and Clare of Assisi by Jon M. Sweeney

http://www.amazon.com/Light-Dark-Ages-Friendship-Francis/dp/B002UXS33G

 
"The Middle Ages were not so very dark, as the old textbooks say. As you will discover in this intriguing portrait of the first Franciscans, we live in dark ages whenever we become preoccupied with power. In this popular history, Jon Sweeney reveals the timeless temptations that come with being human---greed, competition, ego, and selfishness---as well as the many ways that Francis and Clare of Assisi inspired change and brought light into darkness."
 

This book is also the perfect size for reading while riding or waiting for a bus. I wonder if Francis was a disenchanted youth and had daddy issues.  Perhaps his spiritual life in nature could be compared to the 1960's hippie commune movement.   Kudos to him for helping the lepers when not many others would.  I cannot understand his marriage to lady poverty and dislike for owning books - even religious ones.  He did not like to own things. 

I'm sure some of my family and friends thought my downsizing efforts a few years ago were a little extreme with my new-found minimalist desires.  I consider Francis' rule for not owning more than one garment a little severe and ... would be unhygienic by today's standards.  Maybe that lady in the parking lot had her other set of underwear in the laundry?  

Francis believed in only cooking enough food for the current day and saving none for the next.  He lived in the moment.  He obviously didn't have a family to cook for, to pack and freeze casseroles and containers for meals throughout the week.

Seriously, people need to work to survive and support their families using as many economical tactics and time management techniques as possible.  You have to be efficient and penny-wise to make it in this modern world.  In addition to volunteering, I see gainful employment as an important part of contributing to society.

My heart goes out to folks at RIM and the federal government who have recently learned that their jobs may be cut.  On that related note, the last book I will mention is called Promote Yourself, book focused on self marketing by Anita Caputo of the Big Picture Institute.  

Anita is also a public speaker and co-author of Learn to Bounce, a book that came out shortly after she and hundreds of others were laid off from Nortel.  I saw her speak at a professional development seminar a couple of weeks ago and was so impressed and inspired that I purchased a copy of Promote Yourself.  It's "a practical guide to marketing yourself without being too pushy or too shy!".  Being content and sufficiently challenged in my present employment, I mainly wanted to garner tips for promoting my nom de plume, Florence T Lyon. 

Thanks for reading this far.  I hope I spaced out my thoughts and paragraphs enough for a pleasant experience.  

I like reading.  I like reading paper books.  I'm sure you do too.  Do you also like to read books on your Sony, Kindle, iPad, Kobo or other electronic devices?  As a reward for your patience, permit me to offer you a discounted eBook copy of my novel, The Year of the Rabbit.  Drop by before July 31st though.

Thanks for visiting.  Relevant comments are welcome.  Please +1, like and share and remember:  Semper ubi sub ubi. 

T

Send in the Ghouls?

I was very disturbed after watching the news a few days ago.  More like shocked, horrified and ... angry.

Hopefully the majority of fellow humans can commiserate. 

According to CTV news, "The appalling details revealed in the media coverage of the Luka Magnotta story have had an unsettling effect on many.

One psychologist said that it's normal for such unpleasant revelations to leave people stunned and outraged."

No sh*t.  I cringe every time mention of this story comes up or the revelation of new, gory details slither into view.

It's something that makes you shake your head and say, "No way.  How can someone do something like that to another human being?  What kind of childhood did this ghoul have?  How can someone do something so cruel - to kittens?!  And seriously... What twisted sicko would want to post videos of these events online?"

This is definitely not something that one would want children or fragile seniors to see.  But how can you shield them from information that is available all over the Internet?  It's a strange new world, adding on to the crimes committed by the likes of Paul Bernardo, Karla Homolka and Jeffery Dahmer.

To add to the disbelief, you discover that there are web sites that cater to hosting these ghoulish videos.  Next you learn that there are people who record their friends' responses while watching these horrifying videos then post them online. What the h3ll is wrong with these people?  What harm are they doing to their psyches and those of our future world leaders? 

What a troubling time we live in, when gruesome information is freely shared using common forms of publishing and Internet technology, bordering on violent obscenity yet being defended under freedom of expression.  

While writing, expressing and offloading in my pen and paper journal yesterday, I surrounded myself with three lit candles:  one beeswax tea lite within the aromatic diffuser; one in the lovely wine bottle lantern; and another white candle of hope.  Call it quirky but this works for me.  It works by being in a place of semi-solitude and calm.  Sometimes, I wish I could be hermit, wrap myself within a safe cocoon and shut off the outside world.  

Yesterday I tried out Skype video calls for my first time.  I shared updates, congratulated recent accomplishments with family members across town and across the Atlantic Ocean.  It was exciting to use this technology to gaze upon smiling faces and send love over the ether.

That is what I want to remember.  That is what I prefer to know people are doing with their time, energy and use of technology.  Sounds naive, doesn't it?  

Now it's Sunday morning and I'm fuelled up from my first cup of coffee and strawberry Eggos while listening to CBC R2's Choral Concert.  

While we cannot deny the dark side of humanity, we can each take a moral stand, working together to dilute that twisted darkness with acts of compassion, respect and good cheer.  


Thank you for reading this far.  Relevant comments are welcome.  

T
 
- - - 

I acknowledge there is a violent scene in my novel The Year of the Rabbit.  It was not written to shock or glamorize violence but to demonstrate how within a few seconds of anger and passion, even the most innocent person could be pulled into harming another human being.

Lean on Me

"I'm so relieved to know that I am not alone."

That is a statement I have heard often over the past fifteen months.  I have also shared it with teared-up eyes while sitting around a table or in a circle of couches and chairs.  

It's good to know that you are not alone in a struggle and that your troubles sometimes seem few compared to others' when they're facing addictive, harmful behaviour.

We each experience a variety of challenges throughout our lives and I believe that it's how you face them that contributes to your character - and skills for survival.  There will be times when one cannot be strong and has to realize that some life challenges cannot be faced alone.  There will be times when we each need the meaningful support of family, friends and community.  

We all need somebody to lean on. 
 

I have memories of living with a mentally ill person who was emotionally and verbally abusive to our family.  We were "walking on eggshells" so as to avoid an outburst or angry tirade.  After he attempted to kill me, I remember using that term while testifying at the criminal trial - even before I knew there was a book whose title contained the same phrase.

It's bad enough if the affected family member was your former spouse who through denial and controlling behaviour could make you doubt your own sanity.   It's a different story when a parent sees it happening with a child. 

After years as a single parent dealing with PTSD, my family's emotional roller coasters and attempting to cope through writing therapy, I was very thankful for connecting with a group that helps friends and family cope when someone they love suffers from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). The twelve-week course was led by volunteers who tirelessly coordinated the weekly sessions and provided participants with documents and articles, building a "toolbox" of skills for coping and understanding affected family members. We were also reminded that we, as relatives have rights. 



I am not shy to share this part of my life with the world. Some of the details are on public record anyway.   If this blog entry can reach one person who is experiencing the same conditions as I did over a decade ago, wondering "Why is this happening?", then I feel that I have connected with and helped another human being along the bumpy road on the journey of life. 

It was during the final session of our program last spring that some of us expressed an interest to continue meeting - at least on a monthly basis.  We wanted to review the notes, refresh ourselves on the communication and coping skills.  We needed to keep on connecting, listening and sharing. 

Some of the people could not make it to the monthly gatherings.  I often think about them and hope their struggles have lessened over time.  

In addition to the monthly support sessions, I have continued to review the courseware and perform research online.  It's not difficult to find credible, clinical sources and... blogs by others who have endured family members with these same disorders for a long, long time.  I consider myself very lucky.

Last month, a group of my lady writer friends finally agreed on a convenient date to meet for dinner.  In addition to sharing updates on our lives and clinking our glasses in a toast, we consoled each other on our various challenges.  We agreed on the importance of the gathering of friends and taking advantage of available support systems. 

In addition to professional services, support groups and healthy communities, it's good to have friends - real life and yes, even supplemented on social networking platforms like Facebook. On the latter though, one doesn't (and shouldn't) reveal dark, personal details.  There is indeed a feeling of connection and support when sharing photographs or "what's on your mind?".  

After a "like" or a comment from a true friend across the city, the river or across the continent, you can feel assured that you are not alone. 

- - -

The Ottawa Network for Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)
http://www.on-bpd.ca

The Royal Ottawa Mental Health Centre
http://www.theroyal.ca

What is Time...

New Year's Eve is upon us.  It's still morning in Ottawa yet some places in our wonderful world are already celebrating 2012's arrival.


One part of me appreciates the human need to measure and track things like distance, space and time in set increments.  I can also appreciate and respect the measurement of time in natural cycles.  

Years ago, I came across in interesting quote about time by a lady named Sarah Ban Breathnach:  


"Chronos is clocks, deadlines, watches, calendars, agendas, planners, schedules, beepers. Chronos is time at her worst. Chronos keeps track. ...Chronos is the world's time. Kairos is transcendence, infinity, reverence, joy, passion, love, the Sacred. Kairos is intimacy with the Real. Kairos is time at her best. ...Kairos is Spirit's time. We exist in chronos. We long for kairos. That's our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won't be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in chronos. In kairos we're allowed to be ... It takes only a moment to cross over from chronos into kairos, but it does take a moment. All that kairos asks is our willingness to stop running long enough to hear the music of the spheres."  


Deep and far out. Sarah is the author of a book called "The Simple Abundance Daybook" and has a web site: www.simpleabundance.com  


Once again and since I don't function well in large, noisy crowds, I will be ringing in the new year at home with family and felines.  We will celebrate with music, colourful Christmas lights, tasty treats and a bottle of Ice Cuvée VQA.  


I will let my structured and creative sides merge long enough to explore New Year mandalas. I'm willing to try just about anything once.  


Another celebration will be upon us in less than a month.  The quiet, creative and brave Year of the Rabbit will make way for the Water Dragon.  With the Year of the Rabbit novel behind me, I look forward to exploring new projects and realms in 2012 and beyond.


Wishing a Happy, Healthy New Year to family, friends and kindred spirits.  


One problem is... I may not be able to help finish that bottle of bubbly for very long after midnight.  We may have to open it sooner.  Besides, it's already New Years somewhere in the world ;o) 

T

Writing as therapy

The novel received coverage in the Citizen's The Wrap last weekend.  Follow details in the blog for The Year of the Rabbit.  

I accepted an opportunity to promote the novel (for free, at that!) as well as recall and share a very challenging time in my life.  It's a small compromise of privacy compared to what I had to endure and reveal to strangers during the three-year criminal trial.  I consider myself a real life survivor.  

The article mentions my use of writing as therapy.  I have already heard from people who read it, who praised my courage and mentioned their own experiences with domestic abuse.  

I've been writing and speaking about writing as therapy for years, it seems.  I spoke of this in June at an arts event.   Writing out daily activities, memorable events, plans and dreams help me express joy, sadness, love, loneliness, curiosity and recognize a need for change.

The pen can be mightier than the sword. 

 T

Call of Duty?

My knuckles are gradually healing since an encounter with a neighbour. 

This Canada Day I chose to remain cool and comfortable at home while listening to the festivities, interviews and Royal sightings on CBC Radio.  I had no desire for "being there" among thousands of noisy, sweaty bodies in downtown Ottawa.  I enjoyed hearing that Rick Mercer was among the celebrities in Kandahar, marking the last Canada Day that the troops would spend in war torn Afghanistan.  I was proud to hear about new Canadian citizens being sworn in on that special Day.

I appreciated the down time in my new home after a hectic week of obligations, appointments and meetings.  I wrote, sorted through digital photographs from two offspring's recent graduations. (insert fuzzy proud feeling and a big sigh of relief!)  I shared news, thoughts and pictures with friends and relatives via email while reading their updates on family, health issues and recent accomplishments.  I followed up on activities to promote my novel.   It was a satisfying way to spend the warm day in the privacy and quiet of my little apartment.

That was until...

It started with what sounded like random drumbeats coming from our neighbour's place.  This was not the usual boom, boom, boom music vibrating through the wall and floor that we unfortunately share.  After a half hour, I concluded it was either the sound effects from a action movie they were watching or... a video game.  The sound grew louder and louder.  The gun fire became more intense. 

The sound of machine guns vibrating through our home became too much to bear.   Those who know my history are aware of my aversion to loud noises and violence.  I once again state my appreciation of family, friends and professionals who helped me get through the rough times and PTSD. 

After another twenty minutes of this barrage, I braved myself to seek out the source.  Dressed in frumpy, casual attire and without makeup, I had to go out of my way to knock on my neighbour's door. There was no answer yet I could hear the hoots and male grunts from inside accompanying the gun fire. 

I knocked again.  No answer. Augh! Frustration.  I had to wait for a lull in the video game combat in order to knock again and again and actually be heard. 

Finally, the door opened.  I was greeted by a good looking, buff young man (oh my!) wearing shorts and no shirt (oh my, my!).  My frustration was briefly overcome by flirtatious thoughts.   I was next aware of how haggard and unfeminine I must have appeared.  

Not wanting to let primal reactions distract me from my objective, I breathlessly introduced myself.  

He returned my greeting.  

I stammered nervously and politely, conveying to him that we shared the same wall and... and floor and... and... I could hear - I could FEEL the sound in my apartment.  

He apologized, said they'd turn the volume down, adding that they were just kicking back and getting ready to head out soon.

I thanked him then turned to leave.  He wished me a Happy Canada Day.  I think I grunted in response. 

Things have been pretty quiet since.  As I rub my sore knuckles and wring my hands, I shake my head at the entertainment and lifestyle choices of a few.  I think about those new Canadian citizens who escaped war zones in order to make a better life for their families.  I think about Canadian and Coalition soldiers who have risked life and limb, striving to maintain peace and order in Afghanistan.  Let's hope that disruptive actions of a few do not interfere as others adapt and heal, settling peacefully into their new homes. 

What is Family?

If you were to Google "what is family?" you would get about 1,460,000,000 results.  

According to an imperfect Wikipedia article, "In human context, a family (from Latin: familiare) is a group of people affiliated by consanguinity, affinity, or co-residence. In most societies it is the principal institution for the socialization of children. "

The key point here is about children.  Children need a stable, healthy environment in which to learn and grow.  Without sounding cliché, I feel it is important to state that children are our future.  If they are nurtured and taught well, they will be responsible, well-balanced members of society.  If they are led by good examples, they will be ready to take on their roles in their own families, communities and our beautiful world.

Last night, two of the offspring and I watched The Kids Are All Right on Rogers on Demand.  It was a welcomed form of entertainment after a cold, wet afternoon of slogging around slushy streets to view our future community and a potential new home.

The family portrayed in the movie was certainly unconventional and non-traditional.  The story though encourages us to ask the question about family.  Can a family consist of children and two parents of the same gender?  Can a family be headed by a single parent?  Can it be one parent and one child?

In my novel The Year of the Rabbit, young Sera is presented with this question as her own family makeup changes as do the ones around her.  She struggles to understand while she loses and gains family members.

I have been the head of my own family as a single parent for seven years.  It hasn't been easy but is much more preferable to what we lived with for many years prior.  Although we have had emotional struggles and hurdles, I am hopeful that we can continue as a healthy, loving family.  

The kids are all right.

International Women's Day March 8th

"International Women's Day has been observed since in the early 1900's, a time of great expansion and turbulence in the industrialized world that saw booming population growth and the rise of radical ideologies." (Details)

In some parts of the world, women are still struggling for basic rights like education, health and safe birth control. This week I was horrified to hear about security forces shooting women during a peaceful protest in Ivory Coast. (story link).  I was uplifted to hear of The Middle East feminist revolution (story link)

How can we as civilized men and women demonstrate peacefully our wishes for a healthier, safer co-existence? Can we trade in misogynistic ways for those of a more cooperative time? 

On this Women's Day and every day, what must we teach little girls, young girls and women around the world? From a philosophical perspective this March 8th, you may be interested in hearing about the Four Faces of the Feminine Identity (Venus, Athena, Demeter, Hera)

I recall the the words of Canadian musician Damhnait Doyle in one of my favourite songs: "I should teach the little girls to scream before it's too late to be heard" (List of Things / Shadows Wake Me CD)

In my up-coming novel The Year of the Rabbit, readers will meet characters who represent the hopeful girl child, the passionate, strong woman and the wise, patient crone.  Come read about Sera who tries to make sense of her lonely world as she misses her lost friend and clings to hope as she loses people close to her one by one.  Meet Aunt Georgette, a strong and passionate woman and unlikely role model.  Meet wise older women like Edith George and Rachelle Johnson.  Unfortunately, due to the lack of awareness and compassion in the 1970's community, it was too late for one little girl to be heard...

Have a peaceful and loving Women's Day. 

Small companions, small defenders

It is comforting to know that the "...Ottawa Police Teddy Bear Program is being re-launched through the generous contributions of staff tips from several downtown Bridgehead Coffee Shops. Staff of Bridgehead Coffee Shops agreed to donate their pennies to purchase teddy bears for children who have been involved in a crisis. The cuddly companion can help ease a child’s stress after a traumatic event."

"The Bear Mission - The plush teddy bears are for officers to use as a therapeutic tool to comfort, console and calm distressed children, since they are often the first to arrive at emergency scenes."

Read the full release:

Ottawa Police Equipped with Cuddly Companions for Children in Need
14/02/2011


This news release comes at a bittersweet time for me.  Seven years ago, after a violent incident in our former home, my children were consoled by the social workers at the Ottawa Police station.  Each child was offered to choose from a selection of stuffed animals.  At that time, there were more than just bears to choose.  The social worker and officer on the case were compassionate enough to abide by my children's wishes to send one of the toys to me as I recovered in the hospital.  This rabbit toy is featured in my short story called Small Defenders.  Writing the story was a form of therapy and a way to thank the many emergency people and members of our community who came to our aid although I was still embarrassed and in disbelief.  The story also features the poorly functioning machines that dole out pain killer dosages as researched in the book The Human Factor by Kim Vicenti. 

Small Defenders (Short story - Ottawa Jewels 2006 ISBN 1-897357-09-5)
See a PDF version

I am a survivor who is still facing disturbing hurdles.  Being a single parent, it is challenging to cope as I struggle to understand the problems my children experience.  I work hard at "keeping it together".  For the past few weeks, I have been dealing with the long-known fact that my attacker is appealing his sentence and I am now aware there will be a hearing later this month.  Through a technique learned in a support group, I am practicing radical acceptance in knowing that I cannot change reality nor control the outcome of particular situations.  I trust that the issue is in good hands as they review the facts.   

I am also dealing with the reality that the parole board hearings will take place later this year.  To say the least, this drags up bad memories and anxieties.  I started preparing for this over a year ago but lately it has become more of a disturbing reality.  Thank goodness for family, friends and therapy.  I am alive.  I still have my children with me.  I still have my sanity.  I still have that feisty, purple rabbit. 

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