Dona Nobis Pacem 2025 Speak Love

Wow 20 years! Well done Mimi. My 19th I think.

This year has been hard, I'm lucky in that I didn't have to go it alone.

Buzz was here,

Buzz did the shopping,

Buzz did the laundry, 

Buzz drove me,

Buzz stayed beside me,

Buzz worked,

Buzz brought the bacon home, 

Thankfully Buzz didn't cook.

Buzz has been my constant companion,

Buzz aggravates me,

Buzz loves me,

Buzz sings off key,

Buzz snores, 

Buzz leaves the seat down,

Buzz makes me laugh,

Not the haha polite laugh.

Buzz makes me hold my belly,

Buzz makes me snort,

Buzz makes me cry.

Buzz speaks love,

By his actions,

By his presence,

By his humor.

I only hope I'm speaking love right back at him.

45 and counting, man we're old.

Dona Nobis Pacem 2024

 Dona Nobis Pacem 2024

Day late and a dollar short as my Grandpa would say.

What would my Grandpa think about the state of the world right now?

He'd be shocked,

He'd be sad,

He'd be angry, 

He'd be confused.

He'd also be kind,

He'd also be generous,

He'd also try to fix it.

He was a pragmatic man,

He was a dreamer. 

Head in the clouds,

Feet firmly anchored,

Life was hard work,

Life was fun,

Life was lived with the understanding that it could all go to Hell on a dime.

Life was precious,

Life was a privilege,

Life was what you made it.

He'd be so ashamed at how we communicate on the internet,

He'd be so angry at *Faux* news,

He'd be shattered at how we treat each other.

I learned generosity from him,

I learned kindness,

I learned how to be responsible for myself.

Your actions are who you are,

Not your religion,

Not your education.

How you speak to people,

How you treat people,

How you live your life.

I wish all of us peace. 

Be kind.

Be like Grandpa.

Dona Nobis Pacem

What are we doing?

Where are we going?

Who are we hurting?

When can we stop?

I can't answer that for any nation or people,

I can answer that for myself.

I set boundaries,

I set limits,

I set my time,

I hurt no one.

I try to live with integrity,

I try to live with humor,

I try to live with kindness,

I try to do the right thing.

Sometimes I fail,

Sometimes I rage,

Sometimes I cry,

Sometimes I have mean thoughts.

I'm human,

We're human,

We make mistakes.

Trying to fix our mistakes,

Trying to right a wrong,

Trying your hardest at all the things.

That's all we can do,

That's all I can do. 

Try, be kind, live with integrity.

Peace starts at home, with yourself and your family.

Do the work.

My Sister

I've posted these before I think. Just had a very senior moment and want to save them.

She sits there,

like *The Dad*on his scooter,

same smile,

same dark tinted glasses,

same teeth.

She sits there,

pale thin ankles,

wrists like twigs,

hopeful grin,

fearful grin.

She sits there,

on *The Dads* scooter,

I feel  I've condemned her,

she sits there,

with nothing but time,

with not enough time,

I mourn her already.

She sits there,

for how long?

I love her,

my sister,

my heart,

my last hope at family.

An excerpt from something I was working on but mis-placed. (Read: Old lady loses file) Posting to save it.

**This is where Corn girl learned to attempt to drown her inner alcoholic, to shut her the fuck up.

 Corn Girl’s alcoholic has a great memory, she remembers every slight, every insult, every bad thing that ever happened.  Oddly enough she dosen’t remember the good times as much, she dosen’t remember being safe and warm and happy, playing with the G’s and Nana and Ray. 

Corn Girls alcoholic is a dramatic sneaky little bitch that has taken over Corn Girl’s body. A lying selfish sack of agony that Corn Girl can’t drown out, can’t get to shut up about it already.

 The alcoholic living in Corn Girl has no mute button, no sense of humor, no off switch and no time for anything but Corn Girl’s shrinking world.

I can picture her inside Corn Girl, a flawless milky white complexion with light blue veins barely visible, with beautiful shiny red hair and  the white teeth that Corn Girl had as a teen.  She’s laughing and swimming in the liquid alongside Corn Girl's youth and energy, her sense of pride and self esteem, her sense of the absurd. They swim in  perfect synchronization, like Esther Williams and her girls.

Dona Nobis Pacem~Exhaustion

 Another year another Blog for peace.

We keep at it,

those of us who care.

We keep writing,

commenting,

confronting hate and racism when needed.

Seems to be needed a lot these days.

The socials are rife with anti semitism,

 misogyny,

 racism.

It's a fine balancing act,

not to respond in kind.

Not to call names,

not to hate the person instead of the opinion.

It's exhausting.

I slip sometimes,

lean too far left,

pitch right a little.

Sometines I even lose my balance completely,

I rage,

I hate,

I comment.

It's exhausting,

is it working?

I dunno.

Sometimes I'm hopeful. 

Sometimes...

 I wrote this 12 years ago...

Friction fires; or the reason I can't go into the forest.

There are times in a woman's life when she experiences what I like to call a *Wardrobe Milestone*, for example, her first pair of ice skates. (even when her mom got them off of Swap 'n' Shop for five bucks) These skates bring such joy and a feeling of importance, she's a big girl now, watch out. Several turned ankles and an aching butt later she realizes that maybe the skates were cheap and 5th hand so she blames her mother for her lack of expertise. (it's a given)

For me, my next milestone was the training bra, in Grade 4. (already busting outta the thing) I was chased by a pack of 10 year old boys for the whole year. I had a permanent bruise on my back, was round shouldered and you guessed it, blamed my mother.

As I entered my 11th year, bruised, limping and suffering from poor posture, my mother decided I was ready for the next *MILESTONE* Not a *Wardrobe Milestone* Per Se, a cosmetic one.

This brings us to the dreaded home permanent. I was strapped into a chair at the sink, wrenched backward and my hair soaked under the tap. (kind of a home water boarding) With the dog's toe rag wrapped around my thin limp hair, I was escorted to the kitchen table whereupon my mother rolled each 1/4 inch of my hair into tight pin curls, then proceeded to douse me in chemicals that not only burned my scalp, but left me with a squint that I have to this day. The end result was badly damaged hair, which stayed frizzy for approximately two days. This I rightfully blamed on my mother.

The 12th year of my pitiful existence was highlighted by hot pants and high heels. My first pair of bell bottoms and a rash from the polyester. I entered Grade 8 limping, squinting, huddled, itchy and frizzy, but I was 2 inches taller. This was also the year I discovered acne. This I blamed on my mother.

By my 16th year I considered myself HAWT and wore my first (and last) bikini. It was a thing of beauty (not unlike I was) it had wooden hoops at each hip and one between the ever expanding boobs. This I thanked my mother for. Good genes I thought at the time. I also had my first bout of mouth sores, for this I blamed my mother.

For most women the next few milestones are a formal gown and then a wedding gown. I had no formal but I did have a 2nd hand homemade wedding gown. (It was really quite lovely) Alas, it was polyester. I was 95lbs, so on my wedding day I was boobless from weight loss, tripping over my heels and the dreaded rash was back. My hair had been done by a professional and it lasted 5 minutes as there was a gale force wind in Prince Rupert. I blamed my mother. She should have moved to some place warmer and windless.

The first sexy lingerie, now a girl has really grown up, watch out world! Again with the rash...

Maternity clothes, nuff said.

Now at the grand old age of 48, and having given birth to the two "Heads". Being arthritic and fat from my meds (NOT the beer). I've graduated into the unknown once again. For decency's sake and the protection of small children and animals I've found myself having to wear what I call a bathski. (bathing suit skirt all in one) (A onesi for old fat broads if you will) It's not a skort, lady golfers wear those, so they have to be cool right? Me, not so much.

I used to wear a pair of men's trunks, looked OK, hid the thighs. This year however I have the unfortunate problem of my thighs rubbing together. (this is not pretty)

I'm waiting for BC fire services to ban me from the forest. At the beach it's OK, the sound of the surf drowns it out. At the lake or at a pool, I give everyone in sight a bag of crinkly chips. This will work for the initial dunking, but I have to hustle back because they can't swim for a half hour after consuming them and they'll hear me.

I sit huddled, rashy, blistery, with aching ankles and frizzy hair waiting for the next *Wardrobe Milestone* I wonder what it'll be? Support hose? A girdle? ~sigh

RIP Big brother.

 I put this on my brother's wall today. 

Hello, my name is Laurie, I'm Scott's sister.

Scott has passed away after a lengthy illness borne with pragmatism and humor. 

He went out on his own terms with great courage.

Thank you to his friend Cheryl.

He is pain free now and was ready to see his son John again.

Please keep a kind thought for his love Denise and her family who took him in when he was unable to be with us. It's comforting to his twin Shelley and I to know that he had kids and grandkids and many friends who loved him. I'm sure they'll miss their *Grumpa*

I was tasked with this notice/eulogy/roast by Scott and he asked me to mention how quiet he was and how he kept to himself. Right there you get the way he worked, he wanted this to be funny but not too funny, sad but not too sad, short but not too short, you get the idea. 

Scott and Shelley were leap year twins, born February 29th, 1960, so right off the bat they were considered special. They were premature and together weighed as much as I did when I came along two years later. Much to my parent's relief.

 Can you imagine a pair of 20 year old small town kids (21 was the age of consent) running off to Vancouver, getting pregnant BEFORE they got married? Not only that but there were TWO of them, born on the leap year. It was written up in the paper, both locally and nationally. So right away mom was humiliated.

We were five, a tight unit that did pretty much everything together. Scott was Ichabod (Icky for short), Shelley was Sam, and I was George. We lived in some pretty ramshackle places, loose windows, mold, drafts. Iced up windows on the inside in winter, sitting in front of the oven trying to get warm in the morning. That's why we like to camp I guess.

Our family camping trips were a cross between The Hunger Games, Naked and Afraid and a bit of Manhunter to keep us on our toes.

Five people, two dogs, an 18ft skiff with a 40hp. Off to Porcher Island for 9 or 10 days every summer.

We fished, we walked, we beachcombed, we shot rifles, but mostly we sat around the fire cooking hunks of beef, smoking, singing and laughing. There was always the laughter, a tad jarring and hysterical at times, but always there.

 The Hunters invented swapping lies, learned at the knee of the greatest bull-shitter of all time, dear old dad. There was the truth, the other opinion, then the fabrication that tied it all together.

Scott loved to drive, go for a road trip or just drive up and down 3rd when we were teenagers. Our parents were always taking us for drives, mom in her curlers dad with an extra layer of Vitalis for men in/on/through his hair. We'd sing along to the radio and they'd open their fly windows and smoke. There was always gum, but we had to share. 3 kids 3 pieces of gum! Yeah no. One for dad, one for mom and 1/3 for each kid.

Scott loved to sing, we all did. There was always a radio on in the kitchen always the same time as the TV. He loved the Mod Squad and would rush home after school to watch it, or more likely from McClymont Park where he'd been skipping school.

He knew all the words to The Brady Bunch, The Partridge Family and Walt Disney theme songs and would delight us with his performance of same at odd hours day and night. Did I mention he liked to sing? He sang loudly to make up for his lack of talent. Dad always told him he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

Scott excelled in school.

Hahahaha sorry! I'm imagining your faces.

Scott joined the Navy when he was 17 and met Sylvia the mother of his two children, Amanda and John. Amanda we love you if you ever see this. Scott loved his kids, even going so far as not to eat himself when times were tight so the kids could have their fill. He did his best with what he had.

He was predeceased by John in 2020. I'm happy they had a relationship in their last years.

If I can say anything at all nice about him I'd have to say he had a great work ethic and he stuck to his guns. Yes I mean he was stubborn and hard headed but that is also the Hunter way. So those of you taking note: Lying, bad singing, hard headedness, driving, smoking, hard working is the Hunter way.

I hope to be able to use this space to add more stories, we'll see how I go, I'll add a lot of pictures and I encourage all of you to do the same. 

It's all water under the bridge now, even if the bridge is floating. I love my brother. 

He wanted to tell you all "See you on the flip side!"

I hope you're at peace now Icky.  There's no one I'd rather share a third of a piece of Juicy fruit with than you and Shelley.

Say hi to mom and dad for me and tell an epic porkie about this whole journey around the fire.

George

Ottawa held hostage

My take on the so-called freedom convoy:

Confederate flags

Swastikas

Trump Banners

Don't tread on me banners

Upside down Canadian flags

Swarming the following places unmasked and unvaccinated:

McDonalds

Rideau Mall

The soup kitchen

This bears repeating:

The soup kitchen

Defiling the Terry Fox statue, prompting a news release from the foundation reminding people that Terry was about SCIENCE.

Dancing, drinking, smoking, parking and yelling profanity on the Tomb of The Unknown Soldier. Prompting Veterans Affairs to release a statement.

Throwing a beer can at a reporter

Berating hotel staff

Trucks constantly idling

Horns going 24/7

Blocking fire lanes

Blocking emergency lanes

Trapping people in their homes with no way to get to work or to the hospital

Dressing their 3-5 year old children in Fuck Trudeau clothes and draping them in signs

Putting everyone they come into contact with at risk. EVERYONE.

Conservative MP's passing out coffee and doughnuts, doing interviews in front of the Canadian flag with a swastika drawn on it.

Urinating in public

Calling the PM a coward when he had to get his family somewhere safe. His Kids!

Failing to understand that mandates are PROVINCIAL and not FEDERAL.

The US doesn't want your unvaccinated asses there either.

The candle light vigil planned for the fifth anniversary of the Quebec Mosque shootings cancelled.

I remember them here:

Ibrahima Barry

Mamadou Tanou Barry

Khaled Belkacemi

 Aboubaker Thabti

Abdelkrim Hassane

Azzedine Soufiane

RISP

The Maverick Party

The proud boys

The obfuscating,

Saying that these fringe elements all glommed on and perverted your mission.

I call BULLSHIT, we can all Google who started this and see the call to action and the dog whistle.

You are fighting for my freedoms!? 

Yeah, I don't think so. If you were fighting for my freedoms you'd wear a mask and get a prick instead of being one. 

This isn't a TRUCKER convoy you make up a small 10 to 15%.

If you really want to end this you'd take PPE and Rapid Tests and donate the bloated Go Fund Me scam for respirators and hiring more staff to give our health care workers a break.

To sum up, you are the problem. No one likes to wear masks or have shots but we pull up our adulting pants and do what's required for the greater good. For our families, for your families.

I fervently hope that when you do finally get home and stop holding the good citizens of Ottawa hostage that you don't infect your Granny or your Mum.

Cancel me this

 I've started reading the comments again.

I said I wouldn't,

I promised myself,

I'm a bad promise holder.

I was especially horrified at the comments directed at our Premier. He has throat cancer, newly diagnosed.

The comments are horrific and cruel, I can't believe how many there are. 

I can't believe how easy it's become for people to just spew their own personal brand of ugly on another human being.

Where is the compassion?

Where is the empathy?

Where is the caring?

What would you do if I called you up and said I was glad you had cancer and I hope you suffer before you die? You'd be gutted and angry.

Why is this any different?

 You're typing it so it doesn't count?

He doesn't know you? 

Anonymity?

Yeah not really, you're not anonymous.

I can click on your profile and see stuff.

Where you work.

Your kids/grandkids photos.

Where you live.

Who your friends are.

Even the most buttoned down Facebook page has clues.

I can file your job away in my old brain and the next time I need a roofer/mechanic/plumber/gardener...

You get my drift. 

No biggie in your life I'm sure to lose a maybe customer, but it helps me sleep at night.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who does this.

Be kind.

Dona Nobis Pacem 2021

 I've blogged for peace since its inception. 

I've written about worldwide peace.

I've written about peace in our country.

I've written about peace in politics.

I've written about peace in groups.

I've written about peace in families.

I've written about peace with my body.

I've written about peace during this pandemic.

Am I any wiser?

Are things better?

Is the world all love and snuggles?

Is their no longer any strife or pain?

It's all still there, the war, the poverty, the sickness. Political infighting and all around bat shit crazy behaviour. 

Anti this and anti that.

What have I've come to accept over the years is if you shine a light on some of the injustice, write about it, protest about it, talk to your friends about it, you'll feel better.

You'll feel a little peace, a little sense of accomplishment. A little bit of relief.

Love your chosen family, hug your pets, try to be more understanding.

Be kind.

#Blog4Peace 

Dona Nobis Pacem 2020

Here we are.

Still Upright.

Still fighting for Peace,

Still steadfast in out Faith,

Still Slogging away,

Still Praying,

Still Loving,

Still Involved.

Here we are.

Despite Covid 19,

Despite Global Warming,

Despite Political fanatics,

Despite Poverty,

Despite Loss,

Despite Adversity,

Despite Racism.

Here we are.

Keep Trying,

Keep Believing,

Keep Loving,

Keep Kindness,

Keep Positive,

Keep Blogging,

Keep Friendships.

Here we are, warts and all. Be kind.

 Two years ago he was mocking a rape victim. Now he's in hospital with a left wing hoax illness. AKA the CHINA virus.

Just in time to deflect the tax thing, the debate thing, the 400million debt thing.

Don't get me wrong, I hope he recovers because he needs to be in jail for fraud, tax evasion, RAPE/ASSAUTx30. Just to name a few.

There's 209K dead and 7.36 Million cases of Covid -19 in America. Trump is still trying to take their medical coverage away.

These people don't get flown to a top notch hospital or have a team of doctors. They don't receive experimental treatment or first in queue.

In a fair world he'd get the same treatment as everyone else, and they'd get what he does.

Lucky he isn't treated based on his tax payments, he's get half a Tylenol.

People are hundreds of thousands in debt to pay for their Covid-19 treatment he gets it on the American dime.

All he had to do was wear a mask, but spent all the time in front of people mocking mask wearers.

He knew Hope Hicks was positive for Covid-19 on Wednesday night, and he still went to an indoor fundraiser, mask-less at one of his resorts on Thursday afternoon.

I find it hard to give a shit about him. I hate the way that makes me feel.

He also mocked Hillary Clinton for being sick during the 2016 Presidential race. Google it.

So get well, lose the election, go to jail. That's what I'll *pray* for.

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/politics-news/trump-mocks-christine-blasey-ford-mississippi-campaign-rally-n916061?fbclid=IwAR3KrUsd1iDFfReQv42-cPwcMZB_ONM-w7U9aDWyQcbeIaTZm8uUxYQvbD0

https://www.everhere.com/ca/obituaries/bc/duncan/john-bradley-hunter-10848529

I'm so fucking tired.

My nephew John has died, not from Covid -19, from a car accident.
He was only 33.

I found out through a cousin, my brother didn't even have the barest hint of decency to tell his family.
I had to tell his twin,
his nephews,
his niece,
his brother's in law.

It took an hour and 4 people before I could get in touch with him.
He lives here.

He broke his family,
he broke our mother,
he broke our dad.
Now me.

I love you John, you and your sister were always a bright spot in my day.
I loved it when you came *for coffee*,
I loved it when you giggled,
I loved getting your school pictures.

I've missed you and now I'll never see you again.
It hurts.

 I hope you know I love you.

Devastated

My sister, my beautiful damaged sister is fighting for her life tonight.

She has COPD and had a poor prognosis to begin with, add a cold and she ended up in the hospital. She can't bring up any phlegm, they're testing her for Covid-19.

She always said she wanted to be the first in 3 generations to hit 60,she did that on February 29th. She's an alcoholic and still smokes. Can't walk across the room but still smokes. Alcoholism is an insidious disease, it's run rampant through my family, wrecked our lives.

She zigged and I zagged, I could have easily been her, she could have been me. Twisted fate and bent family shaped us. Molestation and rape, alcohol and drugs. Anger, so much anger.

Oh but I love her, she drives me crazy, I love her so much. She's all alone, they say she's comfortable. No family there, no one to hold her, no one to kiss her.

I'm all alone, Buzz is at work and I can't have anyone in. I'm quasi quarantined and have been in since the 15th. It's my birthday in a couple hours, 58. I wanted Lysol wipes for my birthday, now I just want my sister to pull a fast one and be OK. As OK as she can be. Not dying alone, but going home.


Update: Moved to a ward,still waiting for Covid results. They'll call us. So we wait.  

Update: She's eating and drinking. Still hard to breathe. No fever. Covid-19 test back tonight, if negative and she keeps improving may be home in a couple days. 

Update: No Covid-19!!! Yeehaw. Moved to another floor will need 4 or 5 more days to get her breathing better. Her husband is allowed to drop off anything she needs and they'll  try to get a phone to her today to call him. I wonder where an 80 lb woman gets the strength for this?

Social Isolating and food.

It seems the longer I stay socially isolated the harder it is to leave the house. My hermit skills are absolutely top notch.

Buzz is my grocery guy, he goes every 3 days or so. Milk bread, coffee cream, fresh veg. I am pretty well stocked up, that's just a normal thing. One open, one in the pantry.

I've lived in some geographically (lets call them challenged) isolated areas, of the one road in and the one grocery store variety.

 I love to cook, I love to eat and I've never relied on a restaurant for meals. I don't even do the take out coffee thing. Who drinks hot beverages in a moving car? 

When the kids were young I'd make sure I had a roast, a turkey, a ham, a whole chicken and a lot of stewing beef and hamburger. I always have canned vegetables, soup and evaporated milk. 

People have kind of looked down their noses at me over the years, fresh or frozen is better of course, however when you live in a one road in place that's prone to power outages and road closures, that can of peas looks pretty darn good, and everyone knows that Yorkshire pudding is made with canned milk.

I used to buy the Easter candy as soon as it came out, if you waited until Thursday it was gone. No candy from the Bunny for the kids. The nuts and cranberry (canned) and the treats for Christmas, especially the Advent Calendars in November.

Just in case. It's same with home canning, if I miss a year I fret. No pickles! No jam!  Merde! I've always said if there's canned soup in the cupboard we'll be fine, just fine.

Well as a long time eater and cook with limited fresh and pantry supplies I can give you a few pointers.

Save your veg ends for soup stock, and make that now. Freeze it.

Do you have two hot dogs in the pack, one piece of sandwich meat? Don't waste it.
Freeze it. 

Couple crusts of bread left in the bag? It'll make great stuffing or bread for meat balls.
Freeze it.

Veggies going soft? Roast them, or blanch them.
Freeze it.

Milk about to expire?
Freeze it.

Spuds staring at you? De-eye them wash them, slice them thin and make scalloped potatoes. Use that about to be expired milk. (a note only bake 3/4 of the way will freeze better)
Freeze it.

Use up older stock in freezer, chicken, beef, veg.
Make Chili.
Make soups.
Make stocks.
Make gravies.
Make lasagna.
Make chow mien.
Make meat pies.
Freeze it!

Always use the left overs. You can put cheese on just about anything.
Also you can FREEZE cheese.

I always make sure the crackers, cereal, dry goods are in tupperware or clothes pinned tightly. 

Rotate your canned stuff so you don't become a hoarder or an eater of expired things, rotate your freezer stock and keep an extra box of freezer bags in the pantry.

I think that's it food wise, I hear you can freeze eggs too. I've never tried it, but Google it and see how.

I've been isolating since the 15th, still not too crazy. I did a knock and drop but came straight home. I've always done well on my own, and I do prefer home cooking and staying close to home.

 My health has been a concern for a lot of years. Chronic illness is an isolating business normally, so apart from the forays to the grocery store and the odd lunch or coffee with the girls I'm not missing anything. 

Stay home if you can, distance your physical self in public, wear the mask, (all the cool folk are doing it) wash your hands! Don't touch your face. Cover your mouth with your elbow when you sneeze/cough. Stay away from the old folks, drop and run supplies for them that you have wiped down with a lysol wipe. (cans handles packages) Don't have parties, keep your kids at home if you can. I know parents have to work. Be kind, be thoughtful, share.

39

Today is our wedding anniversary, 39 years.
Don't ask Buzz how many that is in husband years, he doesn't have enough fingers and toes.

I always see these motivational speakers talking about how to be married, how to make it last.
The problem is most of these relationship gurus are single or divorced, not bashing divorced people, I'd never do that. Everyone has a story, and some very good reasons for divorce.

I guess I want to say that no two marriages are alike and no two people are alike, and there's no telling other people how to be married.

That being said, marriage is a long game, not for early quitters, and not for sissies. If it were easy, everyone would be married.It's hard and you don't always get a prize.You do get grey hair and laugh lines, a life long companion, but no medal.

I grew up in my marriage, we both did. We were 18 and 19 and a half. I worked at a gas station, Buzz was in the navy and we lived in a one bedroom fully furnished apartment in Esquimalt.

 It was hard we were so young and we had some good fights. I always suspect people who say they don't fight. Where's the passion? You need (to borrow from Seinfeld) an airing of the grievances. You will go to bed angry, you will wake up seething and you'll be tempted to throw in the towel.

A good marriage is a myth, a long marriage is never all good. There's hurt feelings, anger, grief, loss, joy, abundance, feast, and famine. It's every day it's every week, it's every month, and it's every year. It is a long grueling trek, some days there's a feather bed and a steak at the end of it, other days there's beans and the couch. 

You have to learn to let things go, that's it in a nutshell. Sure they bubble up every now and then, but it's fleeting and necessary. Let it float past.

Is it worth it? You bet, I could never imagine the last 40 years without Scott. He gave me our kids, he gave me himself, and a bunch of grey hair and a tooth grinding problem. The point is he stayed, I stayed, we are a unit. Sometimes a hurting unit, but the good outweighs the bad and the last few years apart from health issues there's really been a shortage of bad.

So thanks to my love bunny for going the distance, staying hydrated and wearing proper footwear. Sorry about the ashtray in 1980, you really didn't deserve that and thankfully I was too mad to throw straight.

Dona Nobis Pacem 2019

We've reached a crossroads in Canada, luckily we went left instead of right.
Not to criticize your beliefs in life or politics, however I personally feel like we dodged a bullet.


I look at the states and see such division and hatred for one another.
I go on Twitter and Facebook and see the hate memes and ugly comments, the mis-direction and outright lies, it hurts my soul.

I see people claiming to love God and children while laying hands on a hateful man and praying for him. They should be at the cages and detention centers comforting the kids that have been separated from their parents. 

Just because you claim to be Christian doesn't make you better than your fellow man.

 You want prayer in school, but only Christian prayer.

You want a good Christian man to lead you but it's OK if he's a serial sexual assaulter and adulterer.

It's OK if he lies, it's OK if he steals, it's OK if he commits treason as long as he's a fake Christian.

We dodged a big old fat bullet Canada. We need to remember that. 

People over money, love over hate.  It's easy.

 Keep your religion out of politics and if you really feel so strongly about abortion and prayer in school, run on those platforms. Don't obfuscate, mis-direct and lie. Run on what you believe in. 

Slippery slopes

 You can call me naive if you want, however I was taught to give people a leg up. Give them a helping hand when they're down.
 I will never vote for anyone, (political party aside, this is personal) who will use their own prejudice as a platform for hate. There are more races, religions, orientations than *Caucasian Heterosexual Christian*

 Life is messy and loud, we need the services already in place, safe medical abortions, free speech, same sex marriage, freedom of religion.
 Holding tightly onto the purse strings because someone is gay and doesn't fit with your world view or they're not *religious* makes me question whether a person should even run for office.
 Yes the PM screwed up, yes he apologized, it was stupid, lets move on. Trudeau has done more for immigration than any PM I can remember. 

 I find the timing of this whole thing to be suspect.They had to root around in boxes in the attic to find the pictures, so they could create a *SCANDAL* This isn't reality TV, these are real people.
 The fake outrage is what gets me. The same people bitching about *brown* people coming for their pension cheques are outraged at the affront to said same people.

 I for one don't want to see Canada move backwards, these rights we enjoy now came at a great cost.
  I watched my Uncle hide who he was, he had to. He could have been arrested when he was young. Do we want that again? Do you want the mall to be closed on Sunday? No booze sales on Sunday or election day? Having some of your friends stand in the hall while you piously recite the Lord's Prayer? Get arrested for being gay? Lose funding because your school isn't religious enough? Want words like retard and fag to be acceptable again? Die from cervical cancer because your Women's Health Center provides abortions? Not be able to end your suffering on your own terms?

  We need to be vigilant, look south of our border if you're not sure.
 Oh, and climate change is real. Leaving it out of debates is absolutely putting us on the precipice of that slippery slope.