Many long years ago, I was temping in a local government office. The woman I was employed to assist was friendly and jovial in the workplace, so I enjoyed my extended stay at the reception desk.
One day close to the end of my assignment, my co-worker decided to do an office clean up; so, we rolled up our sleeves and scoured and organized every nook and cranny.
Toward the end of the day, I discovered that the potted office Dracaena - one spindly four-foot-tall stem with a sad frond on the top - was the subject of debate; and, the upshot was that it was dying and should be thrown out.
That's when I weighed in. I believed there was still life in the palm, so I offered to take it home with me. I carried it out to my car, crammed it into the front passenger seat beside me, and gave it a home on my back deck for the summer.
And there the Dracaena's lived every summer, since ... wintering in the family room on the other side of the sliding glass door. I've potted it up several times in the last ten years and after one such pot change, it grew a second stem.
This fall when the Dracaena made the transition indoors, I discovered the whole frond top of the second stem had been broken off - I blame the squirrels! I was devastated, though my husband optimistically assured me it might grow a new top.
So, I gave it a good watering and hoped there was still life left in the palm. Fast forward to this week, nearly 3 months later, when hubby's prediction came to pass in dramatic style: The Dracaena didn't just grow one new top, it grew two!
I hope my rescued plant lives on for many more years to come. It's a gentle living reminder that happy surprises can often sprout from unfortunate circumstances, if just given the chance.
On Boxing Day evening, I stopped at a gas station to fill my gas tank. The big marquis sign wasn't showing a gas price but the pumps appeared to be in working order and two other cars were apparently pumping gasoline.
When I pulled into pump #9 after the previous customer pulled away, I discovered a credit card still in the machine. Pulling the stranger's card out and temporarily placing it in my pocket, I moved forward with my transaction ... inserting my own credit card.
That's when I realized my mistake: The gas pump was actually off-line, although lit up as if ready for business. More problematic, I discovered, was that my credit card was now stuck in the machine - Seriously stuck!
I hung around for quite a while, trying everything I could think of to convince the gas pump to release my card; but, to no avail. Eventually, I had to leave my card and pump gas elsewhere using spare change I scrounged from purse and car.
When my husband arrived home, he headed up to the gas station to see if he could pry my credit card from the machine, only to discover the card was not there; however, running his hand over the top of the machine - something I wouldn't have been tall enough to do - he found my card had been placed on top by another customer.
When I reached home, I Google searched the name on the credit card in my pocket and found a phone number I thought might belong to it's owner. I left a voice message on his answering machine, and amazingly received a reply from Rodney the next morning.
Rodney was easily able to prove ownership of his card, and I handed it off to him when he arrived an hour later to pick it up. He turned out to be a really nice young man, whose story about the previous evening was ironically similar to mine.
I have to wonder just how many gas patrons were stymied by that improperly shut-down gas station on Boxing Day. There were 10 pumps to choose from and every one could have been snatching and holding credit cards all evening. Luckily, at least for Rodney and I, honesty ruled the day and our credit cards made their way back to us, albeit, in different ways.
For that, I say Cheers to the honest people who showed the true spirit of the holidays and who "payed it forward," just like in the movie.
Winter is finally upon us, although we've had snow for the better part of a week.
Traditionally, the first snows of the season bring driving and traffic complications, shoveling and snow-blowing adventures, and the dreamy anticipation of school cancellation.
Luckily, a good dumping of packing snow, in my part of the world, usually precedes the construction of countless incarnations of snow creatures: snowmen, snow-women, snow-babies, snow families, and some unique snow-creatures that truly defy recognition.
The other day I photographed the snow family, pictured above, simply because they made me laugh. The snow dad's mustache especially caught my fancy ... he looked like a cross between the legendary Frosty and Super Mario.
Snow does make a lot of work for many; but it also brings the opportunity for tobogganing, skiing, snowshoeing, sleigh-riding, and other much loved winter sporting activities for those who live for the great chilly out-of-doors.
That said, I am not a fan of winter: I really do not like being consistently cold or having to bundle up. Daily I can be heard playfully lamenting, "Have I told you lately that I hate winter?" - My kids grew up on it! - Yet, somehow, snow and snow people always take a bit of the frosty sting out of my winter-weary mood.
So, here’s to the first day of winter; and, while we're at it, here's to snow! If you can get past the cold and the wet heaviness of clearing it, snow magically creates a fun and festive atmosphere that almost warms even my grouchy winter-phobic heart.
In 1973, Kirk Douglas starred in and directed the movie Scalawag. In the movie, he portrayed a peg legged pirate searching for buried treasure. The film wasn’t a critical success but, at 15-yrs young, I remember enjoying it.
My dad had won a pair of tickets to the Hamilton premiere of Scalawag plus an upscale meet-and-greet at the Hamilton Club: The latter gave my mother a chance to shake hands with the legendary movie actor and bring me back Mr. Douglas’ signature in my autograph book that she’d taken in her purse.
The next day with our parent’s approval, my younger brother David and I took a bus downtown to a matinee showing of G-rated Scalawag. I remember being enamoured of teen co-star Mark Lester, a favourite at the time. My brother, on the other hand, came away from the movie completely taken with the 11-yr-old-boy version of eye-candy – Pirate Peg’s peg leg.
David, you see, was the proud owner of a G. I. Joe doll, unfortunately afflicted with a missing lower right leg. The movie pirate portrayed by Kirk Douglas and the broken toy at home meshed together in the young boy’s brain and a DIY project was about to take shape.
David found a suitable piece of wood and carved it into the shape of a peg leg. He then enlisted my sewing and design skills to fashion leather-like strapping with which the leg could be secured to the doll. Upholstery tacks affixed the leather to the carved wood, and a mini peg leg was created.
Immensely pleased with the final project, our dad suggested that we send a picture of the doll wearing his peg leg to Mr. Douglas. After much thought and discussion, we opted to do more than send a photo: We constructed a second peg leg, and sent it in a small box with a Polaroid photo and a note, addressed simply to: Mr. Kirk Douglas, Hollywood California.
Amazingly, more than six months later, I received an envelope in the mail from Mr. Douglas. In the letter, on official Kirk Douglas stationary, he thanked me for the peg leg, apologized for taking so long to reply to our letter - he had been filming movies in Europe - said he hoped David’s doll wasn’t as uncomfortable wearing the leg as he had been wearing the peg leg in the movie, and sent his regards to my brother.
It was and still is, a delightful letter! I've kept the note, personally signed in black ink by Mr. Douglas, and the envelope all these years - They’re treasured keepsakes.
I’m still amazed that a busy film actor, director and family man from California would take the time to respond to an unsolicited gift from youngsters far away in Canada.
It may sound silly, but I occasionally wonder if Mr. Douglas might still have the peg leg we sent him more than 40 years ago, perhaps sitting in it’s box on a shelf in his office: As I never imagined Mr. Douglas would actually answer our letter as he did, I guess anything's possible.
Although my brother unfortunately passed away many years ago, his G. I. Joe is with us still and wears his peg leg to this day.
This heartfelt story is posted today in honour of Mr. Douglas’ 100th Birthday. I wish him sincere best wishes on this momentous occasion, and thank him for making such a positive and long-lasting impression on two grateful young people.
