This Time Next Week ...

This time next week I will not be here. This time next week I will be in Cancun, Mexico!!!!!!!!!! Yes, it does merit ten exclamation marks. It will be the first time EVER that I fly. It will be the first time ever I go somewhere warm in winter. It will be the first time ever I swim in warm water. Am I excited? Just a tad!!!!!!!!!!

There are so many things I'm looking forward to I don't even know where to begin. First off is floating down a lazy river in an inner tube. There is all that food. There are places to walk, snorkelling in a coral reef, swimming in a variety of pools, evening shows, seeing little lizards, hanging out in a balcony hammock - virtually every single thing will be new to me. I can barely sleep thinking about it all!

Of course I do have a week to live through first. There's still plenty of basement cleaning. There's packing (yes!). Plus housecleaning, on the down side.

There's that flight too. I'm not sure how I feel about flying. The rational part of me knows it's safer than driving. There's another part of me, though, that would be happier staying on terra firma. Not having wings, I would have been contented to pass my life without ever having flown. Millions of people do it every day without a thought ... but I'm sure I'll have quite a few thoughts when I'm on board. And probably not all of them will be good ones.

I also wonder how I'll fill my days with no dogs to walk, no chores to do, no dinners to prepare. I don't imagine it will take too long to get used to that, though. What might take a little longer is having no Internet. My beloved Pearl will be staying safely at home. It's been a long time since I've gone even a couple of days - let alone a week - sans connection to the wider world. I think it could be really good for me, though, maybe bring me back a little closer to who I really am. Anyway, I'll find everything out starting in just six and a half days. YES !!!!!!!!!!

A "B" Week

This is a "B" week for me. That's B as in Basement, or Bad, or Both. First off, I'm not on vacation yet, which is definitely a disappointment. Even though we were supposed to be visiting Andrew and Marian in Ontario starting tomorrow, we're staying right here at home since they messed up Dan's holiday schedule and only have him starting next week. On the Bright side, however, it allows me to work downstairs at a more leisurely pace.

And I am actually making some Breakthroughs towards the Betterment of that area. I'm getting rid of a fair amount (not to worry though; there will still be too much left). My things are getting more or less organized - at least in a way that makes some sense to me. I don't feel quite so overwhelmed anymore. It's even transferring over to other areas: I've also done a spot of tidying in the hall closet and my library games closet (well, alright, that was so I could bring a few more things up into it). And our linen closet - a crowded mess that has annoyed me for ages - is actually able to fit things in without a fight. It feels pretty good to be orderly, sort of freeing. We still have far too much ... but it does show me that I'm Blessed to have what I need - and more.

Of course, it's also rather a Burden. I take responsibility for almost all the books, games, cd's etc., but most of the other stuff is inherited and that's difficult to deal with. It's memories of people I loved and how do you get rid of those things without feeling guilty? I really won't use my mom's silverware, for example, but it meant so much to her. She collected it for years from the time she was a little girl, getting pieces for every birthday and Christmas. Do I just let that go to strangers? On the other hand, wouldn't it be nice to go to someone who would appreciate it and use it? I would love to give things to the people I love and care about, but there aren't that many of them and, as Dan points out, most people today don't really use or want it either.

There are things even my mom never used like Irish table linens with the original labels on that must be at least sixty years old. It seems utterly ridiculous to keep toting these things around and having to find storage spots for them, yet to get rid of them just feels wrong, disloyal somehow. I know they're not my mom and certainly won't bring her back (and I'm sure she wouldn't even want me feeling unhappy and burdened by them), but having them makes me feel a little bit closer to her in a Bittersweet sort of way. Ditto for old letters, photographs etc. I rarely even look at them because it makes me really sad, but to just toss them is unthinkable.

Anyway, I'll do what I can with reasonably little mental duress, and what I honestly can't deal with I'll just hang onto for a little bit longer. After all, that's one of the Benefits of having a very Big Basement:)

Musing on The Dust Bowl

I've been musing a lot about "The Dust Bowl" episodes I saw. They were just so incredibly fascinating ... and so unspeakably sad. Nobody asked for it - not even the farmers who caused it with their willful over-cultivation of the land. They certainly weren't as aware of conservation techniques as we are today - and obviously we're still abusing the land with excessive irrigation. Then you could say it was a result of both greed and ignorance. Today you would have to say it's greed alone.

The Dust Bowl hurt everybody, but I felt especially sorry for the children. They had to see and endure things children shouldn't. Always there were food issues, money issues; they saw their parents stressed, sometimes broken. Some people never did get over losing their livestock or land - were simply never the same people for the rest of their lives. One girl's mother just left. Another's had a nervous breakdown. Fathers had to leave to find work and the older children left behind had to shoulder the burdens. The children had to suffer through the stinging dust storms, struggling to breathe sometimes - some would sport homemade "gas masks" of goggles and handkerchiefs.

Then there were the little indignities that could wear heavily on a child. One woman talked about how her clothes were made from sugar and flour sacks: sugar for panties because the sacks were printed with little flowers, flour for dresses because those sacks had larger flowers. It was also tough seeing your friends move away; you never knew if someone might be gone by the end of the week.

And yet, like everything, there were bright spots too. One man spoke so fondly of the exquisite skies he remembered between the storms - brilliant blue with lovely puffy white clouds. There was the kinship of family and friends too. More or less everybody was in the same boat; there was certainly a lot of understanding and compassion and maybe a greater sense of community than many of us know today.

Still, the Dust Bowl is not a time I would like to have personally experienced. There was just too much hardship and suffering. I don't think I could have handled it graciously. One couple who farmed in Northern Texas estimated they had ten really good crops ... in eighty plus years! Pretty poor odds. (However the wife, Caroline Henderson, made some income writing about her experiences as a journalist for The Atlantic so, ironically, they were probably considerably better off than the people she wrote about.)

And talk about a shafted generation: straight from years of struggles and poverty as children to heading off to war (or watching brothers and sweethearts do so) as young adults. If anybody has a right to be bitter over their lot, it is the children of the Dust Bowl. But, while the people interviewed all had difficult memories, they also had a real stoicism and genuine appreciation for the good times that you have to admire. I can't imagine anyone wanting to relive those days, though. And it's utterly impossible for me to fathom why people are risking it all over again.

The Dust Bowl

[Part 1: November 18]

WOW. I knew the Dust Bowl of the 1930's was no picnic - particularly in the southern United States. But I really had no conception of just how very awful it was until tonight. Tonight I watched the first part of Ken Burns' "The Dust Bowl" on PBS. Entitled "The Great Plow Up", this episode explored the history of the region and the origins of what is one of the worst environmental disasters in the history of the entire world! It was already an area prone to dryness (there were significant droughts in the 1890's) but the first part of the 20th century was uncharacteristically moist. That, combined with generous land grant programs, led unprecedented numbers of people to settle there. And because wheat prices were unusually high during the years of the First World War, that's what they concentrated on. To do that, they plowed under countless acres of native grasses ... the native grasses that had been holding the soil down and keeping the moisture in. Essentially, man's greed caused the catastrophe - and not over a period of centuries or millennia but less than fifty years. Talk about a lesson for today.

And of course people paid for it - an extraordinarily high price. There were the relentless storms themselves to endure. Dust miles high that blew everywhere. They could obliterate the sun at midday and hit any time of the year. (I was surprised when I learned the first storm arrived in January; I was also surprised to know that the storms were accompanied by high static electricity.) It was a perpetual battle to keep homes clean, to keep a small kitchen garden alive (forget about fields of crops), to be able to breathe! Animals died. People died. There was a "dust pneumonia" that was particularly cruel to small children and damaged other people's lungs for life. Beyond that, there were plagues of jackrabbits (tomorrow night we'll see the grasshoppers that came in later years) that had to be culled. (Farmers had wiped out the rabbits' natural predator, the coyote - another poor ecological decision in retrospect.) People had to kill off their own livestock too. Many couldn't pay their debts and lost their homes and land. Some committed suicide.

[Part 2: November 19]

And we haven't learned a thing, it seems! In fact, the region seems poised for a whole other Dust Bowl era in twenty years or so.

But first a little more about tonight's episode. It looked at the late 1930's and early 40's. Some people simply couldn't hold on any more. They had no way to feed their families, no places to live even (one family ended up in a rented chicken coop - the only place they could afford; another family searched their whole house and couldn't find a single dime to buy a loaf of bread). And so they left for the Promised Land of California. To an extent they found happiness: more to eat and fresher weather. But they were hardly welcomed; in fact they were looked down on, taunted and bullied. At one point the state even set up border check points, arresting "vagrants" who tried to enter without at least fifty dollars. Many ended up in pretty squalid conditions in tent cities of migrants, following the harvests from town to town.

Back in the Dust Bowl, many of those who stayed had to turn to relief - a bitter pill for a highly independent people, but the sole means of survival for their families in many cases. Eventually government work programs were put into place that allowed people to maintain their self-respect, feed their families, and do valuable work like building new highways, bridges and dams. Although there were some who felt the region wasn't worth saving - or capable of being saved - President Roosevelt, to his immense credit, never gave up on the area or its people. He brought in advisors who looked at farming practices and were able to start implementing changes that gradually allowed the land to return to a healthier state. They did terraced farming, following the natural contours of the land. They used plows that went deeper instead of shredding the topsoil. They reintroduced native grasses and planted some 217 million trees as windbreaks. The government also bought up large swaths of land and returned it to grassland. In some cases they even paid farmers not to plant crops. And though there were still many dust storms, things did begin to get better.

Which brings us to the next folly, the one that proves we've learned virtually nothing from even recent history. In the fifties, they started irrigating the land by piping up water from the Ogallala Aquifer, an underground reservoir left over from North America's last ice age. Of course it meant they could grow practically anything and also raise pork and cattle. But it's being used up. Fast. The reservoir averages 100 feet deep and it's already well over half gone. One of the interviewees on the show estimated there are about twenty years left. And that's it. That's the end of their water ... even their drinking water! When you see shots of those massive sprinklers spraying water in every direction it looks deceptively elegant - but it's really hideously obscene. They're sacrificing their future, their children's and grandchildren's future. Of course there could be another Dust Bowl, in fact there could easily be a Sahara-like desert in the middle of the continent if nothing changes. And given the way people seem to forget the past and focus blindly on short-term gain, it seems more, rather than less likely. I could very well live to see a "Dirty Thirties" of my own - and that's about the saddest thing of all about the whole documentary: it could happen all over again, and humans would have caused it ... all over again.

The Tyranny of Technology

Alexander McCall Smith's philosopher cum detective, Isabel Dalhousie, was musing about the responsibilities technology engenders in "The Right Attitude to Rain" (the volume I'm currently reading). Initially, it was email that piqued her interest, and how it lends a sense of urgency to the communication process. People come to expect almost instantaneous replies and think you're somehow lax or remiss if they don't get them.

I hate the presumption, by the way, that you're sitting around all day at the computer - or have your cellphone or tablet on alert - just waiting for someone's email so you can reply to it immediately. I don't want to be anybody's slave. Often I won't check my mail for a few days. If it's really that urgent, call me. In fact, if phones had been invented after email I'll bet everybody would have thought email was such an antiquated way to communicate! (Of course I'm talking about personal communications here; obviously if you have to use it for work you'd better do so ... although I'm not the only one to think it's wrong the way some employers expect you to be on call 24/7. There used to be a little thing called work/life balance and a separation between those two worlds that's getting more and more rare.)

Anyway, Isabel felt such an attitude towards email was bordering on tyranny, that "advances in technology were greeted with great enthusiasm and applause, then the tyranny emerged" (p. 31). She cites cars as another example, how they destroy the landscape, communities, the very air we breathe. But then she goes on to also see the bright side, how they can take you into different landscapes and make journeys that would have been arduous week-long ordeals into comfortable little day jaunts. "It was an exciting tyranny, then, one which we liked."

And I believe she's right; the good does outweigh the bad in most technological advances (although certainly not all - weapons come to mind here). Technology can also unite people, improve lives - save lives in the case of medical breakthroughs. What creates the tyranny is just the sheer, overwhelming amount of stuff we have to deal with. Every new device you bring into your life means new responsibilities and new drains on your time. Cars have to be maintained regularly and email has to be checked regularly. It is enough to make you want to escape to simpler, less stressful times.

However, for better or worse, here we are. The best thing we can do, I think, is be thoughtful technology users. That means choosing only those things that will enhance our lives and then controlling them too - everything from setting a sensible budget for that new car or cellphone to limiting your television viewing/web surfing time. And of course only checking your email at reasonable intervals!

Just Testing (Blogger App)

Well, I needed to write a post anyway, and I had absolutely no ideas yet today ... so here I am, posting away on the new Blogger app as my day's work. Normally my workflow is to write in Nebulous Notes (I'm hoping to move on to the Phraseology/Terminology combo if I treat myself to those two apps for Christmas). Then I copy/paste into Blogsy and do any last minute tweaking: bold/italics/underline plus inserting any images (which, annoyingly have to first be uploaded into Picasa - about my only complaint with Blogsy, actually).

So now I'm testing out Blogger. It certainly had no trouble connecting to my blog and this posting window is pretty straightforward: you just add your title and then type away. Options for adding pictures and labels are down below. You can even take a photo with your camera and have it inserted, which is pretty cool. I'll be adding a Pippi photo as part of the test process too and seeing how easy and flexible it is. What I haven't discovered yet are any formatting features. I would assume they're available somewhere, but it certainly isn't somewhere obvious. And, though I didn't really expect it, a word-count feature would have been awfully nice too.

Well, I've attached a photo (one I worked on today using another new app: Pixlr Express+, and the new-ish app Color Strokes). I have absolutely no idea where it will end up being positioned in the final product, but it should be there somewhere.

And I guess that's my big complaint with the app so far: there doesn't seem to be much control, it's too simplistic. It's nice to be easy and user-friendly, but you have to have the power too and I just don't see that yet. If I discover some hidden benefits, I'll definitely pass them on. Until then, my opinion is that this is a mediocre app at best and certainly can't replace Blogsy - with or without another writing app first. If I don't find improvements, it won't be spending very much time on my iPad.

Musing on Minimalism

I found an interesting new blog today: becomingminimalist.com - particularly relevant given my current basement tidying project. (I'm making some progress, by the way; I condensed two and a half boxes of books down to one shelf yesterday ... albeit a very packed shelf. Still, I was proud of myself. I'm getting rid of a lot of boxes too. Chances are that if the products they contained haven't broken/needed to be returned by now, I won't need them ever. Certainly not for packing, since I don't envision moving for a long, long time - if ever!)

So on this site it was interesting to read about just how minimalist some people get, and also about the benefits of the process. A sense of freedom seems to be a big one. There's so much less to worry about, to organize and maintain, to buy in the first place. There definitely are different degrees of it, though, and different priorities. If traveling is key, you may want to live with practically nothing - both to save up money and to not have stuff you have to either store or tote around with you. But minimalism isn't about totally denying yourself either. If your passion is photography, for example, you'll want to buy a decent camera and a computer for editing. For an avid reader like me, then, minimalism may be 1000 books instead of 3000.

Of course space is a big concern. If you're a single person living in a 500 square foot apartment, you obviously don't need - and simply can't have - the same amount of stuff as if you're a family in a four-bedroom home. I suppose it's not being very minimalist, but I do think storage space has its virtues too (and especially so in a four-season climate). My fans and folding lawn chairs go down for the winter; heaters and humidifiers come up, for example. Definitely more economical than buying new each season. And of course we genuinely need four seasons worth of clothing too (although I know I have far too much of that as well - tackling my cupboard can be a winter project). So long as it doesn't approach hoarding proportions, it also pays to stock up on supplies like paper towels when they go on sale.

In the end, I guess, minimalism is what you make it. As a homebody who truly loves and uses and derives great pleasure from her possessions, I'm going to have more than a globetrotter. That's not to say I don't need to downsize, though, because I definitely do - if only so I don't have to keep wasting time shuffling stuff around and going through it over and over. I liked the idea on the site of "de-owning" ... or, even better, "releasing" your old possessions so that someone else can use them. (I have a strong aversion to throwing things out completely unless they're absolutely unusable.)

No matter what, though, I sense I will still have more than enough left. And I think I'm just an acquisitive kind of person - sort of like a squirrel or a crow. I could probably be living in a cave and still have all sorts of collections: rocks, feathers, shells etc. I even do it on my iPad, collecting thousands of apps, and on my computer, downloading all kinds of books. (Fortunately digital clutter doesn't take up much space or cost anything other than a backup hard drive or two, but it still does consume my time, which is precious too.) I don't need to deny who I am completely - just keep it under control. I'll never really be a minimalist, I think, but I can still work on becoming a better minimaliser.

Rick Mercer: National Treasure

Like Peter Gzowski or Stuart McLean, Rick Mercer is another of Canada's (and CBC's) National Treasures. I just finished watching his show, "The Rick Mercer Report" (now in its tenth season), and it was as fabulous as always. This week he had a stint with the National Ballet of Canada and participated in a student lumberjack competition in Lindsay. And his rant was spot on about another of the Conservative government's dubious decisions: slashing the budget for veterans' affairs. He didn't mince words - as usual - saying that to Steven Harper et al. "lest we forget" is meaningless as, clearly, they have forgotten.

I love his show. I love that he tirelessly travels from one end of the country to the other, participating in every sort of quintessential Canadian activity ... as well as quite a few new and obscure ones too. He has walked the CN Tower (outside!), tagged hibernating bears, tracked moose, played Paralympic basketball, followed whales, gone zip-lining, mountain biking, race car driving and so much more. Some of the things he does must be huge fun, but others? Not so much. He's pretty brave to do everything he does, actually.

He's brave to deliver his weekly rants too, because I'm sure he gets some flak from them. But he dares to expose things that might otherwise slip under people's radar. Last week, for example, he talked about a secret trade agreement Harper made with the Chinese - while in Russia. (An agreement that had never been debated or voted on in parliament, by the way.) He's ranted about sneaky omnibus bills that try to hide a whole bunch of things inside them, and so much more. So much, in fact, that he has a new book out now: "A Nation Worth Ranting About" (I'm on the library waiting list for the ebook and am really looking forward to a fun yet insightful read.)

And Rick Mercer is also a co-founder of the "Spread the Net" charitable organization. It raises money to buy bed nets to prevent malaria in the developing world. $10 buys a net and potentially saves a life. To date over half a million nets have been purchased. Rick encourages schools to fundraise with his annual challenge. The winning schools get to appear on his show.

All in all, Rick's a pretty cool guy with a really great show. Here's hoping his "Rick Mercer Report" is around for at least a decade more.

Basement Blues

On the bright side, we're having a friend move in for awhile. On the downside, we have to empty out our mother-in-law suite. We've got a month to do it ... and it could easily take that long because IT IS NOT FUN.

Talk about a way to ruin an afternoon. It was a lovely day - as un November-like as you can get, but the hour or two spent down there was absolutely horrible. We have SO. MUCH. STUFF!!! I know I don't need all - or most, or even hardly any - of it, but it's so hard to go through and sort and deal with. What if I get rid of something valuable? Or something I'll need in a month or two (or even a year or two)? Or a family treasure? It's paralyzing and also incredibly stressful and painful too. Old family things make me sad. Looking at other things is like looking at dead dreams. All is see is plenty of past and absolutely no future.

And now I have a whole month of misery to look forward to. A little every day. (Plus probably plenty of disagreements and a few tears too.) I know stuff has to be gone through. I know I should do a really thorough cull and keep only those things I truly treasure and want to cherish forever. I know things that are useful but unused could go to better homes where they will probably do a lot more good. Still, letting go (of virtually anything) is incredibly difficult for me. It's like letting go of my life and all I hoped it would be ... but isn't and never will be.

Instant depression, here I come:(

Remembrance Day

I don't like Remembrance Day.

It's not that I don't want to remember. It's that I wish I didn't have to remember.

To be more precise, I wish there was nothing to remember period.

I hate war. It's stupid and senseless and it is always the good people, the innocent people, who suffer the most. I wish, when bad people want to do bad things, people would just say no. I wish they would refuse to do evil things, refuse to fight for wrong, refuse to go to war.

Of course humans don't work that way. Most don't, at least. There are some anthropological accounts of pacifistic societies and there are some groups like the Amish who consistently shun war. Sadly those are the exceptions. Most societies - most people - aren't that evolved.

Still, I hope for the best, and I certainly pray there will never be anything like the two World Wars we've already seen. I didn't live through them, but I have enough of an imagination and have read and heard enough that I feel more acquainted with their horrors than I'd like. And I don't need a special day to remember; unfortunately I remember often.

So while I'm incredibly grateful for the peaceful world I live in, I feel terribly for those who paid the ultimate price and never got to benefit from the world their sacrifices made possible. I remember them ... but I wish so hard that I didn't have to.

Pages Not Pads

Although I'm well aware that it's more than a little ironic, I'm writing this post about using the iPad less ... on my iPad! It's not completely contradictory, however. I'm not advocating giving up my beloved Pearl; simply using her a little more judiciously. That's because it has come to my attention that I've been "padding" a bit too much and reading traditional pages - or even ebook pages - not quite enough.

Coincidentally, I've been a little grumpy of late. There hasn't been any cause for it, yet I've been testy. And I think it could very well be because I've been overdosing on Pearl. I've been using her at meals, when I have free time during the day, and now to write my evening NaNoWriMo blog entries. Correspondingly, my book reading stats have taken a marked dip. Instead of finishing a book every three or four days, it's over a week. That just isn't me.

It should be though. I am definitely far happier when I'm reading more. There is still nothing better in the world for me than curling up with a good book. I love everything about books: the smell, the feel, the way I get so totally immersed in them. Why wouldn't I be doing as much as I can of something that makes me feel so good?

I guess it's at least partially because the iPad makes me feel good too. But it's a deceptive kind of good, a time-sucking act that doesn't really deliver all the benefits I might think it does. (And that's totally ignoring the fact that the backlit screen may be doing strange things to my brain - at least if used too close to bedtime.) The iPad is wonderful for certain things, writing definitely being one of them. I have never enjoyed writing electronically as much as I do on Pearl (despite too many typos I can produce pretty quickly). It's also very handy for reference works and looking stuff up on the web. And I have genuine enjoyment using my photo apps to do creative things with my pictures. But ...

... I also end up browsing the web far longer than I need to. One thing leads to another and suddenly a half hour has simply vanished. Though fortunately I play them rarely, games suck time too - and many also have the added disincentive of making me feel stressed and grumpy when my performance isn't up to snuff. Even reading isn't the same because the net is right there and I jump right onto it at the slightest hint of something to look up ... and then end up not getting as much reading done as planned anyway.

I don't even like the iPad particularly for reading books - too bright and glare-y, though it's as good as it gets for magazines. (Given a choice I'd take the real thing, but I don't have that option in most cases.) And of course there's my app addiction to consider. I spend time watching for and downloading new apps, then more time trying them out and organising them - and yet more time when I start running out of space and have to purge them! (I had gotten down to around 800 a few weeks back, but now I'm back up to 906, with a paltry half gig free.) Suddenly it becomes work, another responsibility, another thing to be maintained.

So what's my prescription? Well, I definitely want to keep writing. I also read my daily devotionals and I want to have a little fun playing with graphics. But I need to seriously weed all those games I don't need to play. And I should try to maybe return to real books and real magazines at lunch. Certainly I shouldn't do anything other than my blog at night, and I should finish it as early as possible. The rest of the time? Books, books, books. The more I read, the better I think I'll feel. The real me is a reader above all, and it think it's time to get back to the real me as soon as possible.

Nuts About Squirrels

"Nuts About Squirrels" was the title of last evening's Nature of Things episode. It was an entertaining and enlightening look at the furry little friends I've heard called "rats with good PR". It's hard not to be amused by their acrobatic antics, although my appreciation of them does wane when they start stealing peaches from my tree. Yet even then I have to begrudgingly admire their ingenuity and persistence. And now I know a little bit more about what's going on inside their fuzzy little heads.

First off, they do remember where they bury their nuts. They actually use a triangulation process based on fixed objects/landmarks in their environment! In an experiment they showed, a squirrel was removed from his environment for a two week period. When they put him back, by the next day he had dug up some tracked acorns he had previously buried. Squirrels also engage in deceptive caching techniques if they think they are being watched by other squirrels. They will dig away and put their head down deep into their hole as if burying their nut ... but then carry away the nut hidden in their mouth and go bury it somewhere safer.

Squirrels also keep detailed mental maps of their environment and will spend less time in areas of greater perceived risk (ex. farther away from a tree, near a yard with a dog etc.) even if food is available there. They get to know the people in their world as well - when they get up, who leaves food, who will chase them away. They are smart about food too: when they roll a new nut around in their paws for twenty seconds or so, they are actually assessing its quality and determining whether it should be eaten immediately or would be good for caching.

And they do need to cache a lot of nuts to carry them through the winter since they don't hibernate. Fortunately they have their tails to wrap around themselves for warmth. Those same tails are also umbrellas in rainstorms and stabilisers for their acrobatic manoeuvres. Hind legs that can rotate 180 degrees help too, and mean they are actually hanging on when descending trees. (By the way, when going up a tree they are not climbing so much as bounding up it; all four feet leave the trunk, then regrasp it.) A final use I wasn't aware of for tails is air conditioners. In the summer heat their bodies push more blood into the tail, which helps them to cool off. I wouldn't mind having one of those myself! They're quite remarkable little creatures, really, and it was fascinating learning a bit more about them and getting a glimpse into their lives and world.

Vacuuming Day

You'd think with all of today's technological advances, somebody somewhere would have done something to improve the lowly vacuum. I know Mr. Dyson has done his part for suction with his "cyclonic action" machines, but suction isn't really my issue. Even the most basic vacuum works reasonably well - certainly much better than old-fashioned carpet sweepers or brooms. Given the choice, though, I'd actually prefer to use those older technologies because they are two things: light and quiet.

And those are my two complaints. We have lightweight plastics, not to mention aluminum. Why do vacuums weigh so much? Their motors aren't exactly running cars or motorcycles, but they feel as if they almost could be. Our vacuum is like a small tank and I just know it will go on forever. Then my second point: they're so loud! Would it really be that difficult to incorporate a muffler?

So can you guess today was vacuuming day? Not my favourite chore at the best of times, and especially not once we have the carpets back down for winter. I do like the look once I'm finished and don't see dust bunnies scurrying across the floor everywhere. And with two perpetually shedding pooches, it is a necessary evil. But pleasurable? I think not. I'm glad I have the time to do it; the house certainly is cleaner with me home and it is nice to be caring for the place you love. But I haven't yet come to the point where I actually enjoy the task. I doubt I ever will. In fact, it's the one chore that makes me feel downright angry. I'll do it when necessary ... but definitely not more often than that. A house that's "clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy" - that's an adage to live by, and that's my objective.

Obama Owns the Day

Yesterday was the U.S. election, and to my immense pleasure - and considerable relief - Barack Obama was granted a second term in office. I'm not alone in feeling that way either. A survey of Canadians prior to the election showed that some 90% of us would have voted for Obama given the opportunity; even more in Quebec where a mere 1% would have chosen Republican Mitt Romney. History has also shown that Democratic governments are generally better for Canadian interests.

What surprises me is that it was even a contest in the U.S., but it definitely was - and a very close one at that. Right until yesterday it was really too close to even predict, although there were indications that Obama had a slight edge. This turned out to be true; better than expected, in fact, as he won all the swing states. He still has to deal with a Republican congress, but that's nothing new for him.

So I'm very pleased with the result, but must admit I was a little worried for awhile. The first presidential debate was particularly concerning. Obama looked like a nervous little seventh grader who sort of knew his material, but obviously hadn't prepared for his oral. Subsequent performances were better, and he definitely delivered the best zinger of the campaign: Romney was complaining about how there aren't as many ships in the navy as there were back in 1916. Obama retorted that there also aren't as many horses and bayonets; things have been modernised now and we have things like nuclear submarine that Romney might have heard about. That was good!

Still, Romney didn't perform terribly. He looked and sounded quite presidential at times. The problem to me was that it was a little like the Emperor's New Clothes: there really wasn't much substance - or constancy - to his words. Over time I realised he would basically say anything to anybody to try to win a vote - sort of chameleon-like. But of course he didn't necessarily mean any of it. It got to the point where I felt like he was just lying through his teeth every time he spoke. If he said the sky was blue I'm not sure I would have believed him. But the casual observer who only saw him speak a few times could easily have been taken in.

I guess I don't get the Republican policies at all, really. To me they seem so heartless and uncaring. They don't believe in medicare; neither do they believe in the wealthy paying higher taxes. Romney himself, with some 14 million dollars of income, paid 13% - a lower rate than a very middle class person earning 50 thousand. How unjust is that! Of course nobody likes paying taxes, I suppose, but the rich should definitely do their share. To those who much has been given, much is expected - isn't that a basic tenet of a nation based on traditional values?

And what about being your brother's keeper and caring for the less fortunate? Shouldn't a person who's injured have access to medical care? And a person who has cancer shouldn't have to lose his home to pay for treatment. But those things happen and some people seem to think it's ok. When Naomi and Fred lived in California for a few years they saw that attitude first-hand. It's disgusting. To some, all people aren't created equal. They think they deserve better because they've been blessed with good jobs, intelligence, opportunities that others weren't fortunate enough to have. I wouldn't want to live in a place like that ... and I don't think Obama does either. That's why he's trying so hard to make things better for the average person. And I am very, very glad he's been given four more years to accomplish his objectives.

 

Earthquake. (Again.)

Just after four this morning, I was rather rudely awakened by an earthquake. It was moderate as they go - 4.2 on the Richter Scale - but still an experience I'd prefer not to have. That's especially true since it's our second quake in less than a month. We had a 4.5 one around midnight on October 10th. According to a seismologist I heard on the radio today, while two significant quakes so close together is somewhat unusual, it's not entirely unheard of either. And there didn't seem to be any talk of them being prequels to a major event. The CBC News site reports there are actually some 200 quakes annually in the Western Quebec Seismic Zone, which covers the regions of Montreal and Ottawa. How comforting.

The October one did feel worse to me. I happened to be awake because Dan had just come back from hockey. It felt as if someone was shaking the bed to try and wake you up. It seemed a lot longer too - about thirty seconds. Today's felt much shorter, but I might have been asleep for the first part of it. (Paisley, conversely, took more notice of this one, sitting up and looking around.) I woke up pretty groggy. My rational brain was telling me that yes, this is an earthquake. The sleepy part of me thought it was Hershey scratching - only a giant, Clifford the Big Red Dog sized Hershey thumping away on the floor. This time I noticed in particular the rattling of the light fixture over the bed ... and thinking how perhaps it isn't such a good idea to be sleeping right under it! Still, it didn't perturb me that much that I had trouble going back to sleep.

Of course I don't like earthquakes; I don't suppose anybody does - with the possible exception of seismologists. However, I'll write this blog entry and gradually forget about it. Earthquakes are one thing you can do absolutely nothing about. Even hurricanes are predicted these days; quakes, not so much yet. But there's no point spending life worrying all the time, particularly about things you have no control whatsoever over; I already do enough as it is. (And if I really did need any worries, I think a plane crash is probably far more likely than a huge earthquake, statistically speaking.)

I worry a bit though, because we don't have earthquake insurance. I did look into it a few years ago after a larger quake and even then it was well over $800 - and overall rates have gone up significantly since, so I suppose that figure would have too. (Living so close to the water doesn't help because we could be subject to flooding, although it's awfully difficult to imagine a tsunami rising from our placid little bay.) That's a lot of money for a slim chance. I do like peace of mind ... but I also like my bank account, and in this case the risk doesn't really offset the cost. Still, I fervently hope and pray that earthquakes will be fewer and farther between than ever in my future!

Teflon, Not Velcro

It would be nice to be a Teflon person, the sort that slights and stresses roll right off, but sadly I'm far more Velcro. A veritable bur, in fact: the big prickly kind that clings doggedly to absolutely everything. Not only do I cling tenaciously at the time, but I remember, regret and ruminate over things for ages - not just days or weeks, but years.

That's unfortunate ... and it could be unhealthy too according to a study I read recently. David Almeida (a professor of human development and family studies) claims the daily stresses of ten years ago can negatively impact your health - both physical and mental - today! In particular, people who have experienced a lot of stress tend to also experience greater pain from arthritis and cardiovascular issues. That doesn't bode so well for my future.

To be fair, I have had far more than my share of stresses compared to the average person. But apparently it's not so much the stresses themselves as your reactions to them that cause the problems. Just thinking about a stressful event can be almost as bad as experiencing it! So by reliving negative things over and over, I'm piling on more and more stress all the time. Distance does help somewhat, but I can still get myself pretty upset over bad things. I know it. I can feel it in me. And even the "positive" stresses of new experiences and activities can be damaging to someone like that.

However, I don't think it's in my nature to suddenly grow a hardy Teflon shell. I've always taken things too seriously, too hard, as far as I know. My best bet to mitigate against my Velcro tendencies is to use all the coping strategies and mechanisms I can muster ... and I try to read all the articles on positive psychology, managing stress disorders etc. that I can find.

One recommendation is focussing on happy events, and I do keep a daily gratitude record (at least three good things per day). I also force myself to list my blessings in my head when I'm moping over something (the more negative I'm feeling, the longer the list has to be). Fresh air, exercise, and deep breathing are other standard prescriptions, and fortunately I get plenty of the first two - and work on the third when I remember.

And since I won't ever be a Teflon person, it's probably best I keep my life fairly simple and my stresses fairly manageable. I'm lucky in the sense that it doesn't take that much to make me happy or excited. Little things mean a lot to me; I don't need to put myself in overwhelming situations. You can't completely change your nature, but you can do things to work with it, and hopefully past (or current) stresses won't mess up my future too much. Still, it would be awfully nice if I could become at least a little more Teflon than Velcro!

A Do Nothing Day

Today was kind of a "do nothing day". I'm not sure exactly why, but it was rather refreshing. I think we all need those from time to time.

• Maybe I was just plain tired; I actually slept in until 9:00! (Can't even remember the last time I did that.) Hershey has been scratchy and restless lately (itchy skin; we think his diet has been too dry and are adding a drizzle of olive oil at breakfast and a spoonful of Little Caesar meat at supper). So I guess I haven't been sleeping as deeply as I should for awhile.
• Maybe it was the weather. It was grey, wet and cold - in short, November - today. I wasn't a total sloth; I did go out with the dogs for three walks. But I can't say I really enjoyed any of them.
• Maybe it's the time changing tonight. Although I hate it and complain lustily about it every year, perhaps it's ingrained somewhere deep within me and my body has already adjusted itself.
• Maybe I haven't completely vanquished the cold I've been staving off all week. I'm not really sick ... but I didn't feel quite perfect either most days.
• Maybe it's just because I didn't plan anything to do. Usually I jot down three or more tasks to accomplish every day. But today my calendar was blank. There were a few things I thought about doing, but other than doggie detail, there was absolutely nothing I absolutely had to do. And that felt kind of nice. I wouldn't want every day to be so aimless, but it was awfully nice for today.

So anyway, whatever the reasons, not much productive got done. But I had a luxuriously long, hot shower. I finally got to finish the Alexander McCall-Smith book I've been reading ("A Conspiracy of Friends" - number three in the Corduroy Mansions series). I did a little research on wifi cameras (now that the iPod touch is no longer on my Christmas list, I'm looking for alternative ways to get photos to my iPad). We had an easy pizza supper, then I watched my beloved "As Time Goes By". And that's that: a pretty nice day, all in all. Now I'm about ready to head back to bed for another long autumn's nap. I think tomorrow will be more fruitful. But I also think we all need a "do nothing day" from time to time so that most of our days can be "do something days".

Hurricane Sandy Has Struck

Although I needed to get that rant off my chest yesterday (you know how it is in a breakup; you really have to talk about it), it was definitely a first-world complaint, and I am very aware there are far more important issues going on. The current big one is far too close to home, sadly; it is the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.

Sandy hit the U.S. East Coast on Monday, spiralled all the way up to Ontario, and is drifting off through Quebec and the Maritimes now. She was a "superstorm"; the most unfortunate convergence of at least three separate weather systems. And she unleashed devastation the likes of which has not been seen in the region for decades. Houses were washed away, others burned in uncontrollable fires. Streets, tunnels, and the New York City subway were flooded. Roads, bridges and boardwalks were washed out - or away. Millions were without power (still over four and a half million households as of yesterday evening), and some will be for a long time yet. There are gas shortages. And over a hundred people were killed - including a woman in Toronto hit by a falling store sign.

The pictures and videos you see are extraordinary. It's hard to believe water can do so much damage, though of course it can. The most iconic one for me is the fleet of cheery yellow NYC taxis sitting submerged in a parking lot. It sort of symbolises the storm bringing one of the world's greatest cities to a halt. The flooded subway station is sort of surreal too. And equally strange was the two feet of snow that fell in parts of West Virginia. Weather certainly can do extraordinary things. You have to respect and fear it.

All pics from nbcnews.com

It was all especially hard to believe when here, a mere six hours away, Monday and Tuesday were among the more beautiful fall days we'd had all month. There was the odd shower and a couple of pretty strong gusts of wind Monday afternoon and evening, but nothing near what had been predicted. The rest of the time it was sunny and warm - bordering on hot Tuesday. Short sleeves were the norm and shorts wouldn't have been out of place - in fact our mailman did have his shorts on. Incredible. We did get our share of rain and cold yesterday and today, but really nothing you don't expect in November either.

Back in the States, the cleanup is progressing. The Red Cross, FEMA, the National Guard and others are working tirelessly. Hydro crews from Quebec are down in Vermont. NBC is running a benefit concert tonight. And nightly there are stories on the news of just ordinary people doing extraordinary things - serving meals to relief workers around the clock, climbing twenty storeys in the dark to bring fresh water to apartment-bound seniors. It will take a little time, but Americans will emerge, as they always do, stronger and more resilient than ever. Sandy may have destroyed many things, but she could never break the indomitable American spirit. And that you have to admire.

The Lustre has left the Apple.

Yes, the rumours are true. It is official. After a year and a half affair, Apple and I have broken up. Hurt and betrayed, I will never feel the same passion again.

It happened last week, October 23rd. Watching the Apple keynote to see what was up with the iPad mini and if there were any other surprise goodies, I got a decidedly unpleasant surprise. Along with the mini and its computer brethren, guess what else was introduced? The iPad 4. Scarcely six months after purchasing my iPad 3, along comes an upstart model with processor and wifi speeds twice as fast, the new connector and a better front-facing camera.

My heart broke. The iPad 3 represented one of the only times in my life when I actually had the newest and best of anything. I felt so betrayed and cheated. Obviously this was what the iPad 3 was truly meant to be, but it either wasn't quite ready in spring or they didn't want to steal the iPhone 5's thunder. Instead of doing the responsible thing and delaying the release, however, Apple decided to dupe and milk their unsuspecting customers. I could have really used that extra power for my photo editing and the graphics-laden PDF's I love to read. And who wouldn't want faster internet?

I promptly wrote a heartfelt letter to Apple, suggesting a plan allowing iPad 3 owners to upgrade for a modest sum. I elaborated the next day, proposing the trade-ins go to underprivileged schools or other charitable organisations. I even called Apple when I didn't get any response after a few days. And guess what now? Their customer service is about as bad as their decision making. They couldn't tell me anyone at Apple Canada to contact, couldn't guarantee I would ever receive a response to my emails, didn't even know how to fix my non-functioning ID on their own forums. Pathetic!

And that's that. We're over, Apple and I. Of course I'll still use and enjoy Pearl, although I simply can't feel quite the same way about her just yet. It stabs me to the core when I read about the new and improved model. I will come around to appreciating her again ... but I won't be forgiving Apple any time soon. The iPod touch that was on my Christmas list? Scratched off permanently. Maybe - just maybe - I'll consider it when the 8 MP camera model comes out ... which could be in February or a year or more from now - who knows. (In fact, why should I ever buy a new Apple product knowing that the word "new" doesn't really mean anything to them.) I will be looking very closely at alternatives, however, before I do - and there are an ever-increasing number of them available.

So here I sit, a little sadder, a little wiser and very disillusioned. Like with any first love, I guess I was a little naive. I believed Apple actually cared about me as a customer when all they really care about is money. Thing is, though, if they keep treating their customers like that (and make no mistake, I am far from the only irate iPad 3 owner) they'll find they won't have quite so many customers - or quite so much money. It won't be tomorrow, next week, or next month, but people will start looking elsewhere. Nobody likes being taken for granted and pure greed isn't a viable long-term strategy. Too bad Apple. It was fun while it lasted, but we're through. You just can't stay in love with someone you don't trust and you've definitely lost your luster with me.