Farewell North Pelham

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Well this is it folks.

The last blog from North Pelham.

To say leaving here makes me a bit sad would be like saying the Pope is a bit Catholic.

BUT life goes on.

Lemons and lemonade, stiff upper lips and brave smiley faces!

Anyway, I'm moving to the north end of St. Catharines.

Eek.

Can a 7th decade girl find happiness in the urban jungle?

Youbetcha!

And she'll probably have lots to say about it, too!

Back in a few days.

The Football Blog

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So here it is, Grey Cup week-end.

Jeesh, I'm not even sure if it's the Gray Cup or the Grey Cup.

I could look it up, but quite frankly I don't give a flying fig what it is called.

I'm guessing that if Lord Stanley donated the Stanley Cup then Lord Grey (Gray?) donated the other one.

I actually get the basics of the game.

The pointy ball has to go through the goalposts. The more times you get the ball through the opposing team's goal posts the more points you get.

But quite frankly, I've watched grade four classes play games of Capture the Flag that are more exciting than football.

And pulleeeeze don't tell me it is only Canadian football that is boring. 

Comparing American football to Canadian football is like comparing golf to curling as far as spectator excitement levels go.

The only excitement I ever remember in a Grey/Gray cup game was the year it was so foggy nobody could see the players and they, (whoever makes these football decisions), had to stop the game and finish it the next day.

But, I have to admit I do like it when those crazy Westerners ride their horses around Toronto buildings.

But speaking of westerners, what's with Winnipeg representing the East?

If I was to develop an interest in football, that's supposing sometime in the future I hit my head and suffer a personality altering brain injury, I sure wouldn't be cheering for Team Winnipeg!

Anyway,

Party on, Canada. 

Just wake me in time for the hockey game, will ya?

Related articles

• Crews patch BC Place leaks ahead of Grey Cup (ctv.ca)

Your Sex Life Is Not My Business

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I try to avoid thinking about the sex lives of other people.

And one would hope that Canadian society has moved past the point of judging someone by their choice of sex partner, (or partners).

But apparently not.

The B.C. Supreme Court has upheld the ban against polygamy on the grounds that it is harmful to women and children.

Pedophilia; religious brainwashing; and isolating and under educating women are things harmful to society.

The people in Bountiful, B.C., need to be held accountable.

But choosing to be a part of polygamous or polyandrous, (a woman having more than one husband), marriage shouldn't be illegal and the partners should be entitled to all of the rights and protections of people in monogamous relationships.

After all, we live in a free-ish society.

I think.

Related articles

• Judge upholds law that polygamy has no place in Canada (theprovince.com)

Bite Me

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Yesterday  I took Flynn the dog for a jog around the North Pelham ball park.   Just after we arrived a car screeched to a stop and the young man inside rolled the window down.

"Do you mind If I let my dog run free? 

He's a Golden. Friendly."

My eyes narrowed.

Golden.Friendly had just about taken my hand off the last time we crossed paths at the park.

The driver must have recognized me at that point because he said nervously, "On second thought I think we'll drive around for a bit."

Which was a good thing.

For him.

I don't have a lot of patience anymore for people who own animals that like to nibble on human flesh.

Years ago I was in a pet shop one Saturday afternoon because, even though I couldn't afford to own one,  I liked to scratch the heads of the parrots.

Heading towards my favourite bird, I set my purse down on the floor to free up my parrot-head-scratching hand and promptly  felt a pain in my ankle.

I lifted my leg.

There was a ferret hanging off my ankle by its teeth.

Now this presented a problem because I didn't know what to say. 

I don't mean that I didn't know what to say to the ferret.

I mean I didn't know how to let the other people in the store know that I had a problem.

For some reason screaming "HELP" seemed more like the kind of action you would take if you were being attacked by a pit bull.    

I was under attack by six inches of fur and it was embarrassing.

On the other hand it hurt.

I surreptitiously shook my leg and glanced around hoping no one had noticed.

People passed by me, chatting and laughing, not realizing the bloodletting and horror unfolding at ground level.

On the embarrassment scale the situation had the potential of being a 10.

Maybe a 10+.

But how, in the middle of a crowded store, does a middle aged school teacher lady get rid of a rodent that is attached to her ankle and retain her dignity?

The answer is that she can't.

In total humiliation I had to hobble to the cash register, dragging the enraged ferret behind me. 

When I was close enough I lifted my leg and shook the ferret at the guy at the cash register.

"CINDY!" he cried in an ecstasy of love. "Oh Cindy! I wondered where you went!"

And then, rather than being all apologetic and letting me take one of the parrots home for free with a giant cage and a lifetime supply of food, he accused ME of putting my purse on poor Cindy's head, thus being the cause of my own misfortune!

I tell you, my friends, there's no justice in this world.

Jeesh.

Remembering Why

This photo is from one of my father's photo albums. 

It is dated 1942 but was likely given to him after the Canadian Army reached the River Maas in 1944 or 1945 by Nelly Verhoeven, the young woman on the left.

"I was billeted in the house of the girl on the left in Holland.

The girl in the centre is dead now. 

She helped 45 allied airmen escape and the Germans caught her."

*

In 1942 it was the Nazis.

Today there are other people with similar intentions.




We mustn't forget.




***

Occupying Niagara

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The Occupy Wall Street movement has come to Niagara.

I wasn't at the meeting but evidently about 70 people showed up at the CAw Hall in St. Catharines and according to the St. Catharines Standard the group hopes to occupy Montebello Park in the city's downtown later this month, (see photo).

If 70 people cared enough to go to the meeting, I'm betting there are at least ten times that many supporters in the area.

I'm not of an age or in a position to occupy anything, but I will be there when I can.

The critics of this world wide, peaceful comment on poverty and corporate greed seem to think that because the  number of occupiers has dwindled and because they do sometimes go home to shower and eat that it is coming to an end.

I don't think so.

I suspect things will simmer for a few months and we'll see a greater push for change in the spring.

Because,

economically speaking,

it promises


to be a long, dark and very grim winter.

Cabled!

"I'd like to set up my account," I said to the woman who was on the other end of the line and who was employed by a cable company that I shall not name.

(As a clever disguise that no one will ever see through,  I will call it Bogeco.)

I went onto explain that I had just purchased a small townhouse and the cost of the cable TV was included in the condo fees.

"No problem," she replied pleasantly and after several minutes we were finished.

"Great," I said.

"Great," she echoed.

"And that will be $4 a month."

"$4 a month?" I was flabbergasted. "But the cost is included in my condo fees!"

"But you need a digital receiver," she said.

"Why do I need a digital receiver?" I asked.

"You need a digital receiver because mijk thell  jse2wm!"

"Well, that sounds reasonable," I said, not wanting to admit that I had no idea what she was talking about, "but are you actually going to send me a bill for $4 a month?"

"Well, you could give us a cheque in advance and we could deduct the cost every month."

"Could I buy my own digital receiver?" I asked.

"Yes. They cost $160".

I decided to think about it.

The next day, figuring that I'd be better off renting a digital receiver because technology changes so quickly,  I called Bogeco back.

Different woman, but we got  it all set up.

"Great," I said.

"Great," she echoed. "That will be $8 a month."

 "Yesterday it was $4," my voice rose, "why is it $8 today?"

"I don't know about yesterday but today the digital receiver is $4 a month and the fjas;jc box is $4. That adds up to $8 a month," she said.

"I know why I need a digital receiver," I lied, "why do I need a fjas;jc box?"

"You need a fjas;jc box because asdk sdf fjslkf  FKS ksifpo30 and because [rou,!"

"Could you explain that to me again?" I asked pitifully.

She hung up on me.

Bogeco must be pretty sure of their customers.

I counted to ten and tried again.

Customer Service Rep 3 was male. 

We went through the process again and he assured me that my TV would work on the day I moved in.

I waited.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"What about the cost?" I gritted my teeth.

"Oh it's free," he said.

"FREE?"

I actually thought Bogeco felt bad because one of their Customer Reps had hung up on me and wanted to make amends.

"Yes," he said enthusiastically, pleased to have been the bearer of good news.

"Free for the first year. 

After that it is $9.50 a month."



Jeesh.

I've been cabled.