New Year’s Resolution???

Look down the barrel of a gun
What stares back at you
Way down lies death, steely, insinuated
In between life’s nothingness
Quickly diminished.

Look into your future
Threatening deep depression
Your own death at its end
The dreaded nothing in-between
Grossly accentuated.

written by a very young Hans Muller

Hans was a teenaged, non-practicing very assimilated Jew living in Austria when he penned this poem. It was written in German and he said it rhymes better that way.

YOUNG HANS IN THE U.S. ARMY

A Nazi officer had pointed a gun in Hans’ face and ordered him to go to a nearby headquarters to scrub and clean an office. Did Hans have a choice? Being precise, the officer gave him a paper stating he HAD given that ‘service’. Hans showed it to me. Obviously, we haven’t learned much since WWII. Hatred continues in many ways.

Hans did survive and escaped to the USA, where he served in army Intelligence. His language skills, German — French — Italian — Spanish — English and goodness knows what else, served his adopted country well. He witnessed starving prisoners being released from German Death Camps, but managed to put it behind him.

Recently patrons at the only gay bar in beautiful (and very conservative) Colorado Springs found a gun pointed at themselves. Five were killed, seventeen wounded. Their crime? Either being born as part of the LGBTQ community or straight friends and relatives of same.

A new year begins. An opportunity to all of us to be better. How about loving each other just because. We need not be so insecure that we pretend others aren’t as good as we are because of whatever colour, religion, or being born just who they are.

IF I KNEW HOW TO APPLY MAKEUP AS WELL AS DRAG QUEENS DO, I’D LOOK A LOT BETTER

EVERY COLOUR IS BEAUTIFUL………..

BEAUTIFUL CHINESE WOMEN………………..

Let our New Year’s resolution be to celebrate the wonderful differences that make life so much more interesting.

And while we’re at it, pray for an end to all those many guns getting into the wrong hands.

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Revenge of the coyotes…

Island of plastic in the Pacific

It was hot! A long drought in our rain forest led to roaring forest fires, devastation and the destruction of whole towns and some deaths.

Extreme weather, floods, mudslides, tornadoes and hurricanes took more lives. People became homeless all over the world.

Islands of plastic formed in our oceans. Millions of creatures in local waters perished in the extreme heat. The coyotes could smell it, it was unbearable.

‘We’ve got to do something,’ declared Tara, their old leader, ’Call everyone. We must have a meeting. Those stupid humans have gone too far. They need to be taught a lesson. ’

Tara, elderly leader of the coyotes

Word travels fast throughout the park. All the coyotes gathered to hear what Tara had to say. Even the skunks and raccoons, hearing about the meeting, gathered on the fringes of the large group.

The skunks heard, they came

Word travels fast in the park

‘People are unbelievably stupid,’ Tara said, ‘If we don’t do something, we’ll all perish. Attack them, their children, and their beloved dogs — starting now. We must have our revenge…’

‘But their children tried to teach them,’ spoke up Cotu, ‘Why attack them? They’re innocent.’ Cotu was young, but coyote young are listened to.

‘Humans don’t listen to their children, those kids have no power,’ replied Tara, sadly shaking her head.

Raccoons Came too

Her word was law. And so it happened. After years of peace, the war was on — between coyotes and humans.
And so, it came to pass this summer, for the first time, dozens of humans in this beautiful city’s famous Stanley Park, were attacked and bitten by coyotes. What was going on? Why was this suddenly happening?
The humans didn’t get it.

‘Coyotes don’t belong in a city park,’ they argued, although coyotes had always been there. But this was new, coyotes had never been a danger before. The officials needed to act. They’ve now decided to ‘cull’ the coyotes. The plan is to catch and kill 35 coyotes. And, how will that help??? If they must ‘cull’ the coyotes, why not trap them and move them to an uninhabited area? Why kill them?

Coyotes had always been there

Humans don’t understand the coyotes are trying to make them aware that they’ve gone too far and they are destroying our planet. Will they ever learn?

Run, coyotes, run! Avoid their traps. They know not what they do…

How much is enough for vets?

This here’s a rant. Photo: Timothy Stark

Some of us are warriors. Some are not. I’m definitely not. We are who we are and that’s that. I can’t say I’m totally anti-war either because there are individuals among us who hunger too much for power, money or both, and are not concerned with how many people die as a result. Countries need to be prepared, plus o ur military also helps during fires, storms, floods and other natural disasters. We owe them.

Our politicians involve us in wars far from home where we send our

Canadian Soldier in Afghanistan

sons and daughters to fight. If they survive, they come back. How we treat our veterans when they make it back says much about us.

Numerous Regional Veterans Affairs Offices were closed during the recent years the Conservatives were in power here, making it even more difficult than ever for needy veterans to get help. (Our new Liberal government has promised to reopen them. the sooner the better.)

Homeless in Canada

Nobody knows for sure, but in some quarters they believe about 2,250 vets are homeless. Since figures are far from complete, that’s probably an underestimate. A more realistic figure is thought to be about 15,000 – 20,000. Some shelters guess about 2.7% of shelter users are vets, but most don’t ask. Analysts say vets don’t ordinarily use shelters anyway, they just go homeless. These men, who have served us and our country, are completely on their own to deal with PTSD, alcoholism, broken families, often made worse by mental disorders. How can we neglect them?

A friend who knows more than I do says 70% of injuries which were not treatable during the Vietnam War are now being successfully treated and are survivable. Advances in medicine make it possible to save lives, but then turning veterans, no matter how severely damaged, out to fend for themselves when they so desperately need our help is unacceptable.

Throughout history there have been disabled warriors unable to maintain themselves. This is nothing new, but how we deal with the problem will go down in history and tell future generations what we are made of.

Louis XIV of France, 1638-1715

Back in 1659, French King Louis XIV decided to build ‘Les Invalides’ for the care of the severely wounded and the lodging of old soldiers. (Louis wasn’t known as the Sun King for nothing.) His edict, dated Feb 24, 1670, in part says ‘to construct a royal building of sufficient size and space to receive and lodge all officers and men who are crippled or old and frail and to guarantee sufficient funds for their subsistence and upkeep.’

Les Invalides, Paris

This wasn’t a brand new idea either. Other monarchs before him wanted to do something like this — Henri III, Henri IV, and Louis XIII. The difference? He’s the guy who achieved it.

Construction began in 1670, was ready for the veterans to move into by 1674, and Louis XIV greeted the first new arrivals himself. (Just as Canada’s Prime Minister Justin Trudeau welcomed new Syrian refugees in person.)

Napoleon Bonaparte

It was Napoleon’s tomb which first drew me to “Les Invalides’.  That’s where it is and I wanted to see it. Nonetheless, the tomb’s location has created a degree of dissension among French thinkers ever since it was placed there. The arguments continue….

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one wanting to see Napoleon’s

Hitler, 1889-1945

tomb. Hitler, a great fan, visited it on June 23, 1940. What, I wonder, was he thinking as he stood in silence before the impressive tomb of a man he so admired? Was he hoping he could, like Napoleon, crown himself emperor of all of Europe one day? Did he see his own tomb sitting in that place of honor in the future? In a gesture of respect, Hitler arranged for Napoleon’s son’s ashes to be returned to France and placed near his father’s. (Napoleon II died of tuberculosis at the age of 21.)

Those who fought and died during World War II gave their blood, limbs and lives to save us from Hitler. Those who fight for us today, likewise, deserve respect, care and the help they need. According to statistics from our Canadian defence department, suicide claims more soldiers than those killed in Afgan combat. (Toronto Star, September 16, 2014.)

No matter what country you live in, this is not okay. Write your politicians. Make some noise about the issue.

 

Am I grateful? You bet I am!

photo by Susan Kauffmann

It’s Thanksgiving time in Canada, and it comes soon in the States. This has always been a favorite time of year for me and it has nothing to do with turkey. I have so much to be grateful for — beloved family and friends, the adventure of life and the privilege of living long enough to appreciate it.

When my children were young I liked giving them paper and pencil at our Thanksgiving dinners so they could write down and share what they were grateful for. Amongst my treasured papers, I still have some of those lists, one which son Rafi wrote when he was about seven.

Son Rafi and his beautiful Chandra. They keep teaching me….

As for children? Where to begin? I’ve learned more from my children than they could ever learn from me — and they continue to teach me. I appreciate their intelligence and insight and at times, their honesty. I’m grateful for their continued love and forgiveness for the times I goof, and goodness knows I do. Parenting is no easy task. I believe we all fail in one way or another during the process.

I am grateful for this blog and to daughter Susan, who realized before I did how much I’d enjoy it. I’d never have been able to get it going without her, and she continues as unpaid trouble shooter. I am also grateful to each of you who take the time to read it, and delight in the fact you live in 73 countries, many of which I’ve never visited. Kudos too to son Rafi, who takes time out of his own busy life to help mom when she creates difficulties in her tenuous relationship with this computer, which I’m convinced doesn’t like me. Then there are the lovely

Grandson Remy, a real pleasure

people these two have married, and my dear grandson Remy, all of whom accept and love me no matter what. I love them all back.

Now the real miracle — those who just ‘choose’ to love me, and

Robert and Jenna’s Eliana and Noah

whom I love as if they were my very own — Amy, Rebecca and Brian, plus Robert and Jenna. How to explain these things? How lucky can you be? It’s gratifying to be loved by your own children, but to be given so much warmth, love and caring from others is a blessing beyond understanding.

Daughter Susan, me, and my other special ‘daughter’ Amy

I would surely have been killed under Nazi rule

I am grateful to have spent my life in countries in which I have never had to live with war first hand. That’s a real biggie. I was a little girl during WWII and had I lived in Europe, probably would never have survived under Nazism. Not many humans have been so fortunate.

As a woman, I feel lucky NOT to have been born in a country where women have no freedom. Things may not have been fair for females during my working days, nor are they yet, still I know things could be much worse.

Women in Saudi Arabia, they are not even allowed to drive

Susan’s gift that keeps on giving, my own little lilac tree

No one could have derived more pleasure from home ownership than I did. I would do a little walkabout in our garden each morning before leaving for work, marveling at each new leaf or promise of another blossom. Today, I live in an apartment I like, in a neighborhood and city I love. And on my balcony, I have a little lilac tree of my own which daughter Susan gave me years ago. It keeps blooming each year.

I am grateful for those in my book club and especially books, and still being able to read them. (Thank you Brian!) I am grateful for friendships and interesting conversations over coffee. I am grateful for those doctors who truly seem to care about me, and for kind strangers. I am grateful I can still take baths, which I love. I keep thinking of other things to list here, but I’d better stop. I can go on forever. Better just to say I am indeed grateful.