Changing Times

Last weekend we changed the clocks to spring forward one hour.

Spring.  Ha!  We'll see come March 20th. 

All the smart devices in le petit apartment adjusted with the time change automatically.  

One young person camping out in the living room requested that we relocate the analogue clock since its tick-tock-tick sounds keep him awake. 

I gladly moved it into my bedroom, swapping out one of the small paintings.  I like the tick-tock sounds as they remind me of the clocks back at the old Muskoka homestead and provide me with a sense of nostalgia while reminiscing about my dear late parents.  Of course, those clocks resided in hallways or dining rooms and not within a book's throw from one's bed.

Clocks provide a reminder of the measured seconds in our segmented mortal lives - or remind us when it is time to pause for short meditations throughout the busy day.  

Except for the digital clock radio, I keep the electronics in my bedroom to a minimum.   It's also a recommendation in order to maintain good Feng Shui.

A few evenings ago, I had to recharge three of the smart devices in my care.  I captured the following photograph with my iPad before plugging it in somewhere to charge its battery.  I later played with the image in Microsoft Word.

This represents my sentiment for a while with observing the new, smart technology that seems to distract people from real life conversations and social opportunities.  The new technology also seems to require a lot of updates, recharges and added protection.

I have been a hold-out for years with not wanting to own or not being able to afford a smart phone.  Well, I committed to one almost three months ago and am proud to say that I have not yet taken one selfie!  

I am getting hip with exchanging text messages with the kids and friends.

Within one week, I received my first telemarketer call. Ugh!  

This new gadget helps me check my email, news and bus schedules.  It lets me enlarge the font for the email app so I don't need to pull out my reading glasses.  I can also pinch and stretch web pages or images (similar to the iPad features).  

Heck, I could even view spreadsheets and edit basic documents with the SkyDrive apps. Microsoft has already changed that to OneDrive because of a lawsuit caused by their choice of names.

Does the immediacy offered by modern technology  cause us to make rushed decisions based on the need to keep up, to compete and one-up the other guys?
 

The smart phone camera has enabled me to take plenty of pics of bus stop observations, snowmageddon and resident cats as well using it to type short, poetic phrases on Twitter. 

Snowy spindly fractals dissecting my morning commute. pic.twitter.com/OkO9Lk83oa
— Theresa J (@tjamone) March 5, 2014

It was a quiet Sunday morning, purr-fect for napping in the sun, reflection or #writing whimsy http://t.co/CTXXXjW3Zv pic.twitter.com/NknpKuOfhS
— Theresa J (@tjamone) February 16, 2014

 
On a slightly related note, the World Wide Web turns 25 years old this month.  

Does it have enough funny cat pictures -

 - or funny cat videos?

I wonder as well if we have matured, if we will continue for the next few years to use the technology responsibly and in a collaborative manner for the common good. Ha!

What do you think? 


T 

Oh! The irony! Technology and Writing

Am I creating, consuming or just wasting time?

The following was a test of composing and publishing a blog post using an iPad Mini, Safari and Chrome.  It proved to be a royal pain in the ASCII. 

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I would like to get in more creative writing these days.  Seems that most of what I have been writing lately is about electronic distractions and how they are keeping me away from writing.

I have managed to conquer the clutter and placement of objects in my living space.  I need to prioritize the things that are taking over my precious time.  I'm sure other writers and hopeful authors will agree.

See this social media bashing post in another blog:  

http://shewrite63.wordpress.com/2013/02/17/cant-avoid-being-social/

  

To balance out the space and time theme, I am typing  on my nifty, trendy iPad Mini.  It is small compared to a MacBook or desktop computer.  it is handy for reading news, blog posts,Tweets and books.  Unfortunately, its features hinder my content creation activities!   I am keeping this blog entry short because I am struggling with the on-screen keyboard.  Where in sanity's name are the arrow keys on this thing?  Give me a qwerty keyboard any day! 

Thanks for visiting and reading this wee post - if it ever gets published.  Safari kept choking on the preview.  I had to download Chrome from the App Store to continue.  Ack.  Technology. 

T

Young Adult Fiction and Romantic Delusions

I watched the movie "Young Adult" with my young adult residents on RoD last night. It wasn't as funny as we thought it would be, based on the previews. It was actually quite serious - about a 37 year old woman who is depressed and bordering on alcoholism (plus she's a writer -  go figure!). 

She goes back to her home town to try and win back her ex-boyfriend, to rekindle an old flame.  Of course she's delusional since he's happily married to a wonderful woman with whom he has parented a baby.

I think it's a good story with fair warnings about mental health, addictions, misunderstanding what is "happiness".  The character goes through great pains to make herself aesthetically attractive on the outside but man! does she have a lot of work to do on the inside.  She's one delusional, crazy prom queen!

Young Adult

2011 Soon after her divorce, a fiction writer returns to her home in small-town Minnesota, looking to rekindle a romance with her ex-boyfriend, who is now happily married and has a newborn daughter.

Details at:  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1625346/

As a writer and published author, I found a couple of scenes touched me personally:

1. At least twice, Mavis makes a point of correcting people adding that she is an "Author" after they compliment or mention her status as a "Writer".  (the nerve!)
2. In the home town book store, Mavis is offended when the clerk informs her that the series of Young Adult books for which she ghost writes is on the clearance table.  She loses it when he informs her that the books will have no value if autographed and the store has to return them to the publisher.  (Ouch!)

My novel The Year of the Rabbit contains many themes and one of them is the desire to put things back the way they were.  In many cases, life does not allow us that option.  In one case, all it takes is the encouragement and unexpected wisdom of an 11 year-old girl.

The Year of the Rabbit is published as an Ebook with Smashwords where authors can decide if or what discounts can be applied to the sales.  I can't autograph it for people but can offer a taste of reader comments and a 20% free download.   

Please note:  This book contains content considered unsuitable for young readers 17 and under, and which may be offensive to some readers of all ages.

To close the loop of this post with the subject of "old flames", I recently received a Facebook friend request from someone I knew as a kissable boy in my home town.  I responded with a message acknowledging that many years have passed and… a request to see a profile picture before I approve the connection.  I'm curious, not shallow :o)

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Thank you for reading this far.  If you like my writing style, explore other posts in this blog and the many posts in the blog for my novel The Year of the Rabbit.

T

The next time I see you

The 2012 new year brought with it hope and opportunities.  It also delivered an unexpected sorrow.

I was wondering why I could not reach a dear older lady friend by telephone before and during the Christmas holidays.  I knew she would leave her tiny downtown apartment during the day to get in some exercise, fresh air and visit a local women's centre.  Due to family, work and volunteer obligations, I forgot to call during the times when I knew she would, she should be home.  

Communication options were limited.  She did not have email or an Internet service.  My friend was from a different time.  She did not have a cell phone (as far as I know) nor did she have an answering service on her home land line.  When I remembered to call her during the Christmas holidays, the phone would just ring and ring…  Maybe she was out, I thought.  Maybe she was visiting family.  Various obligations pulled at my attention once again.

It was through a shared friend's Facebook direct message weeks ago that I learned she had recently passed away.  A wave of sadness washed over me.  I could not concentrate. I paused during the day to recall our first encounter through a volunteer organization almost 25 years ago, how we would meet on a weekly basis.  She was a hard working immigrant who needed help with reading and writing. I also helped her study for her citizenship test - mostly by illustrations and memorization.  She was successful.  

We lost touch during the years I was married, helping to raise a young family and working full time.

The last time we got in a visit was when I took my sweet lady friend out for a birthday dinner in the heat of last summer.  I remember her sitting in the cool restaurant, wearing a lovely hat and smiling as she squinted to read the card I gave her.  I also gifted her with a printed copy of my novel and hoped secretly that she would be able to read it.  I refrained from asking if she had continued with her literacy tutoring.   It just didn't seem like the time or place to ask.

 

I remember her giggles when the Restaurant Joy staff brought out a small serving of deep-fried banana with a single birthday candle planted in it.  She sat in gracious silence while we sang Happy Birthday in her honour. She was still coy about revealing her age. 

Similar to our outing last December but at an opposite weather extreme, our walks were slow.  I carried her tote bag.  I paced my steps to hers as she shuffled down the middle of the sidewalk, avoiding the risk of falling off the curb.  I paused when she paused to say hello to acquaintances on the street.  We visited Tim Horton's to enjoy their air conditioned setting, to chat over a refreshing drink.

The last time we connected on the phone was in the autumn, around Thanksgiving.  During our last telephone conversation, I suggested she think of a place where she would like to go for lunch or dinner for our next outing.  Planning for these outings was a chore because I had to perform research, to call places ahead of time confirming if they were accessible.  Aside:  I wish more art galleries, community centres and restaurants would post this very important requirement on their web sites!  During our last conversation and as usual, I asked how she was feeling.  I knew she had some health concerns and difficulty getting around but I did not know she was concealing the fact that her aging body was being consumed by Cancer. 

Last weekend, I took two busses downtown to attend one of the visitations at the funeral home.  I delivered my card of condolences.  I obtained a memorial card with her photograph on the cover and a prayer inside. There was no shortage of attendees from her women's centre and the various churches she frequented. 

I found a seat near the front of the room, close enough to the open casket containing my friend's mortal body.  I could not bring myself to approach the front.  This was not how I wanted to remember her.  The floodgates opened.  I cried and cried.  I retreated to the ladies room.  My energy was sapped.  I pulled myself together long enough to talk with her family members and a pastor then ... made a quiet exit.

Recalling again our last phone conversation during which we exchanged our interest in each other's lives and learning what was new.  She acknowledged my busy schedule and was understanding of the challenges of taking public transit downtown on weekends from my family's new home.  She extended her greetings for my children, to give them a hug and to "Tell them I love them."  

My friend is traveling back to her country of origin to a final burial place.  I will never see her again except for the photographs in my albums and the lovely photograph on her memorial card. 

I will miss her sweet voice, her smiling face and positive outlook on life.  

I miss my friend. 

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

Women philosophers: Hypatia of Alexandria

True Blonde Causes

Back in December I started a True Blondes Directory on my web space at the National Capital FreeNet.  

Its purpose is whimsical yet well-intended to list and promote the causes and services of just a few of the intelligent blondes I know and respect.  There are more.  It's just a matter of time and energy in harvesting them.  

I just recently planted the seed.  Let's see what develops :-) Let me know if I forgot you.  Sorry o_O 

T

What are the benefits of racing?

I am not a fan of races, especially those that burn fuel, make excessive noise, contribute to landfill and disrupt our natural environment.  Of course, I understand the need for emergency vehicles to reach those in distress in good time. My life was gratefully saved in one circumstance. 

What is it with our competitive nature, to rush to the end?  What is the thrill? What is the benefit? 

Readers are invited to comment and list benefits of motorized racing.

Time flies

It seems fitting to type a few words about time and our recording devices on this, New Years Day 2010.

Another man-made milestone has passed and nothing in my observance of natural time has really changed. I do have a few calendars to change around the humble abode. What to do with the old ones?

• Well, the sentimental side of me wants to keep them on file to have a record of family visits, birthdays and appointments. Meh, some of that is already recorded in personal journals or photographs :-) and appointment history is kept by the doctor's offices anyway.
  
  
• The creative side wants to save the artwork for cheap yet colourful rec-room wall coverings. Somehow, Happy Bunny and Farmers Almanac just don't compliment each other. Or do they?
  
  
• The pragmatic side says to discard them - preferably into the recycling bin.

This year, fewer calendars!

Thoughts?