Tag Archives: Shopping

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Longing for Spring and other false hopes

Monarch of SpringForty-one years ago this weekend I married. The day shone. No boots and overcoats were required. Through the tears and fears hope for an equally bright future was anticipated. I carried a bouquet of daffodils for romantic reasons that I recall still. The memory of the daffodils lasted longer than the husband.

You might guess from my opening remark that I am of the “Dick and Jane” generation. All dogs were dalmatians. Rivers ran blue. Girls wore frocks and mary-janes; boys wore dungarees. Fathers new best and mothers stayed home.

As I scraped the car window for the second day in a row, I contrasted that April so long ago and this 21st century April, chillier literally and metaphorically. Hope is tarnished. Spring is an ideal never to be achieved.

Four decades later I finally understand this quote from Albert Camus: “Real generosity towards the future lies in giving all to the present.”

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Valdy @RHCPA: Play me a Rock and Roll Song, not!

It was a dark and stormy night the first time I saw Valdy in concert. Really! Thirty years ago, I drove from Nanaimo to Parksville, BC, through thunderclaps and tree limbs bashing about in a high wind off the Strait of Georgia. The hotel bar in which he was to perform was at the end of a quiet road far from anything remotely like civilization. I breathed a sigh of relief as I shut the car door. I had had the foresight to book a room for the night. [The foresight was due to a desire to drink, not because I was smart enough to check the weather report!]

The small bar glowed golden – I remember that specifically. Although I cannot remember the light source. Valdy was on a riser in the corner, singing everything in that mellow voice of his; unfrenzied and unapologetic that he was a folksinger.

Am I hoping to recreate that experience, March 9, 2013 at 8 PM? Not that exact moment…but the unfrenzied, mellow voice singing clear and confidently. Now that I hope to recreate. Valdy is a storyteller as much as he is a folksinger. OK…you are right…folksinging and storytelling are like Jimmy and Choo – inseparable.

I have tickets to Valdy’s Richmond Hill concert, because I am a fan of his stubborn belief that being Valdy is good enough and right. I have tickets because I love Play Me a Rock and Roll Song. I have tickets because I miss that West Coast vibe that was so much a part of my life 30 years ago.

Nostalgia isn’t the only reason. I have tickets to see Valdy perform because he is as Canadian as good manners and as engaging a performer as any this country has spawned.

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#K-cup Guilt

My circle of acquaintances includes many folk who have spent a lifetime saving the planet, or at least portions of it. They have educated me to understand that every personal choice has a global impact. Through their examples I am learning to make Earth-friendly decisions. But sometimes I fail. The resulting guilt takes the edge off a beautiful day.

Five K-Cups

Five K-Cups (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Octogenarian‘s need for a modicum of  independence is as important as her pill regimen. That independent feeling keeps the flame alive within her. To that end I seek solutions to age-problems that allow her to continue her routine, yet keep her safe. Boiling water in a kettle for tea has become an issue. The kettle is too heavy when filled with water, and she doesn’t have the mobility to move from the sink to the kettle’s base when the kettle is full.

Purchasing Keurig‘s K-cup beverage brewer has solved the problem. I fill the reservoir in the morning, and she can make herself a tea or coffee any time she wishes without risk. Mission accomplished.

However, it doesn’t take much thought to realize that producing a piece of plastic garbage every time a coffee or tea is made is not a good thing. Therein lies the guilt. I have chosen to enhance the Octogenarian’s quality of life – and keep her safe – rather than save the planet.

The new CEO of Shell, the Netherlands based oil company, has chosen to stop all Arctic drilling. That is a decision that will benefit the planet. I am certain of this and applaud Shell’s leadership. Yet…there will be negative consequences. Less revenue entering the economic stream of the Far North; less grants for not-for-profit projects – are two that come to mind.

Doing the right thing is always a compromise. Every choice has a consequence. Even the best choices have negative consequences. Just as Great Big Sea sings, I wanna be consequence free.

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Rawley Resort and Marina, Port Severn, Ontario

Rawley Resort and Marina

Rawley Resort and Marina

About 90 minutes north of the Toronto city line is the first (or last) lock of the Trent-Severn waterway.Port Severn, the community that arose near Lock 45 was a company town, built to support a saw mill. The lumber business has been usurped by pleasure boaters and cottagers. I spent the night at the Rawley Resort and Marina, rebuilt in 2007, but with a long history in the area.

In addition to the docks for mooring boats, the resort offers a barbecue pit, outdoor pool and manicured grounds, with granite outcroppings looking like the tonsured pates of giants, buried standing under the earth. The simplest accommodation is a 2-room suite, with kitchenette, fireplace, and, in my case, 2 queen beds. The en suite marble bathroom had an over-sized shower stall with a rain-style shower head AND a hand-held shower head.

Welcoming guests are a pair of butter tarts, which, according to the note, were made from a family recipe. The claim that they were the best butter tarts in the world was proved true when we bit into them. Butter tarts are a Canadian delicacy that must be sampled to be appreciated.

The other accommodation options offered are two-bedroom, terrace suits; waterside lofts and executive suites ranging from 1,00o to 1,400 square feet. This is a resort in which you could easily spend a week in the country.

The Grawley Dining Room and Bar provides water views and a delightful patio with umbrella’d tables. Live music entertains during dinner.  The attached lounge has comfy seating. Everything about the Rawley Resort is designed to encourage you to linger. My favourite spot was the second floor lanai, with two wicker chairs and a pair of stools on either side of a checker board. Perfect for a rainy afternoon.

For dinner I enjoyed what I know to be the best braised ribs I had ever tasted. It was accompanied by a casserole of lobster mac and cheese that had only a perfunctory conversation between the macaroni and cheese, in contrast to the superb vegetables on the side. The Octogenarian enjoyed the grilled chicken with an avocado salsa and roasted rosemary potatoes. She didn’t enjoy the vegetables as much as I because they were crisp.

The included breakfast began with a tasting tray comprised of a mini-smoothie, a hot cinnamon pastry topped with icing and a bowl of fresh fruit. That was the starter! I should mention all bread and pastries are made on site, and they alone are worth the drive north!

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Water Crisis

With the exception of camping trips I have never had to draw water and carry it home. The droughts I have experienced meant the lawn and flowerbeds deteriorated, because water was rationed. The water that flows from my taps is potable. I do not need to filter or boil my water. Yet I am in the midst of a water crisis: The octogenarian refuses to drink but a few mouthfuls a day.

Dehydration can lead to:

  1. Confusion
  2. Kidney malfunction
  3. Urinary tract infection
  4. Death

Confusion is insidious because impaired cognitive function means she doesn’t understand why she must drink. She hates to drink. She always has. She had youth on her side; her age works against her now.

Have you checked the liquid intake of your elderly folk?