Archive | September 2020

Me in prison? Really?

On one of my daily walking/shopping excursions, I stopped to buy some lip balm. I put my mask on, entered the drugstore and saw a selection on a rack at the corner of an aisle. An employee was stacking shelves nearby.

Turning the corner, my walker hit the display and I heard a tube fall. I looked on the floor in front, behind, around me, and twirled again and saw — nothing. Then, behind all of the tubes, there it was. Well I thought so.

The employee saw it and said not to worry — she’d pick it up later. I thanked her, selected one to buy, picked up some vitamin B12 tablets, paid for them both and left the store.

It wasn’t until I got all the way home that I discovered the troublesome tube. There it was in full view in my walker’s basket. Is that where it went? I had walked out with that darn thing where anyone could see it, except me.

The rack wasn’t very sturdy and I guess the tube we saw on the floor was not the same one. Oh, dear. I was as innocent as a newborn babe. I had no intention of stealing anything. If I was going to do so, I’d certainly pick something of more value. What would they do to me?

Every time someone rings my bell I wonder if it’s the police? Do they now have a file on me? Do I need a lawyer? Will they put me in shackles and drag me to court? In front of all my neighbours, who will be saying: ‘I knew there was something I didn’t trust about her when she first moved in 30 years ago.’

Will they then put me in jail? How long will I have to serve for a tube of lip balm? Will I get some awful prison guard who hates me on sight who will abuse me until my sentence ends?

Will you send me cigarettes? No, I don’t smoke but don’t they send cigarettes to everyone in jail?

Black lives matter…

Sep21

I find interesting stuff when I look through my files. I just came on a column I wrote in 1992 which my then-editor called: ‘Prejudice and bigotry return’. Why did I write it?? Maybe it was because Kim Campbell, as Minister of Justice, declared we don’t have prejudice in Canada and I wondered what planet she lived on. It was also probably a time when the economy was hurting and when things are bad, bad stuff happens.

Growing up in Montreal when I did, we were the wrong faith and suffered for it, however I wasn’t even aware of the racism suffered by our small black community. It was only en-route to Los Angeles by bus in my late teens that I learned about the extent of discrimination against blacks in the U.S. and was appalled.

*My introduction to ‘White Only’ facilities*

I want to share this column with you because of the present pandemic, the depressed economy, and ‘Black Lives Matter’ demonstrators trying so hard to fight racism which, unfortunately, still thrives.

*Sign at children Rafi and Chandra’s home*

Here’s what I wrote in March, 1992:
‘Unfortunately prejudice and bigotry don’t go away. They continue to fester just under the skin and as soon as trouble hits, like right now, the disease surfaces and again, we’ve lost our dignity. Neo-nazism proliferates in newly united Germany and foreigners everywhere are attacked by hoodlums.

The Anti-Defamation League of B’nai B’rith reports a record number of anti-Semitic incidents in the U.S. during 1991. Meanwhile in Canada, 12-year old native hockey players are not welcomed in Quebec families’ homes. Two Rotarians stalk out when their club, God help us, accepts a female member.

Women and children suffer the consequences of male frustration caused by unemployment. Crisis centres are overloaded with calls from the bruised and battered.’

The article is too long to ask you to read it all so I’ll end it here. It could have been written right now. Don’t you agree?

Sorry fellas, I’m still here…

Sep11

In July 2007, I received a letter from an insurance company with whom I have a small annuity. They pay me about $230 a year around my birthday, which is in July.

The letter, addressed to ‘Estate of (me)’ says:

‘Dear Sir/Madam:

We have recently been advised of the death of (me). On behalf of (them) please accept my deepest sympathy on your loss.

In order to determine our requirements we require the following:

1) Date of death

2) Name and address of the person handling the Estate

Upon receipt of this information, I will write you regarding this policy.

Should you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Sincerely, etc.’

My death at the time was a total surprise to me, and since I did have a concern, I called the guy who signed the letter and asked how come I hadn’t been advised of my death and he had.

I also asked who told him I died. He personally didn’t know because he’s only the guy who writes the letters.

I was deeply saddened to learn of my demise as you can imagine. I still had some mischief in mind.

Was I really dead? Was I a ghost? I tried walking through my bedroom wall, it wasn’t a good idea. All I got for my effort was a bruised nose. Oh, well — I was obviously still here.

Concerned about losing the $200 they’d already mailed me, they had immediately put a stop payment on the cheque I’d just received, signed and deposited at my bank. It had to be replaced later so they at least got to hold on to my two hundred bucks longer. I hope that made up for the disappointment of my not being dead.

Well, here it is 2020, and while looking for something else, I found their old letter. How can anyone throw away a gem like that? When was the last time you were notified of your death?

Well, sorry fellas, I’m still here and have no plans of checking out soon. I intend to stick around and make trouble for as long as I can. I’m not quite done with this adventure yet.

Covid-19: A List…

Sep2

COVID-19: A list….

Lately someone on the radio said he starts each day by listing 10 things he is grateful for. This being Covid:19, I decided to try for 19. Here goes…

I am grateful for:

1. My children and their loved ones. Their frequent calls give me warm fuzzies. (The border is closed, we can’t visit.)

2. Local special friends who are like family, especially Amy, who drives me everywhere I must go. She doesn’t want me on public transit yet.

3. Aina Wifolk (1928-1983) Look her up on Wikipedia…

4. The beautiful mountains I see from my window. I don’t climb them, but sure like seeing them.

5. The white clouds that frequently reach their arms out and around said mountains in loving-like embraces.

6. The lit ski hill which I see every night. I don’t ski, but enjoy imagining others on it.

7. The tiny hummingbirds who visit the feeder on my balcony and then flit away.

8. The bean plant that struggled so this year to provide me with a crop of one solitary bean. (The weather wasn’t kind to growing things.)

9. Chandra, my dear daughter-in-law, who bought me snow peas to plant. They thrived. (I don’t know why) I had a lot of those.

10. The flowers in their containers on my balcony which come back again and again.

11. Those who keep our local shops going during this pandemic so I can safely obtain whatever I need.

12. The kind neighbour in my building, who put out a flowering plant and card this week because one of our long-time residents passed away.

13. The neighbours and friends who emailed to offer me help should I need it during these trying times.

14. The people who maintain those little free libraries in my neighbourhood. How would I survive without them. (Our libraries are closed and I’m an avid reader.)

15. The thoughtfulness of daughter Susan, who sent me a wonderful birthday package including a used book about ancient China. She knew I would enjoy it. I did.

16. Catherine, who had read a ‘large print’ book, enjoyed it and so brought it to me. It was good and extra easy on my eyes.

17. The strangers who say hello or chat with me from a safe distance when I walk ALONE each day. It makes this pandemic livable.

18. All the people in my life who care about me.

19. All of you who read my blog. Writing these posts gives me additional challenges and pleasures during these crazy times.

View from Over the Hill

Thoughts from an opinionated old lady