A Brave, Caring & Ethical Man

 

This blog post contains words I wrote and sent to United States Senator, John McCain, in response to derogatory comments made about him by the 45th American President. I share my thoughts here today in memory of a brave, caring and ethical man.

2018-05-14

Dear Senator John McCain,

I am not a constituent, Republican, resident of Arizona, politician or even an American citizen. I am a Canadian with socially democratic leanings; who is also a daughter, wife, mother, and grandmother; writer, poet, gardener and blogger.

I consider myself politically and socially aware, and not given to blindly following the easiest path. My opinions are carefully considered, and my loyalty extended to a special few. I am writing you today to express my belief that, although I don’t agree with some of your political ideologies, you are essentially a brave, caring, and ethical man.

I respect your service in the military, your principled standards and political open-mindedness, your courage in all kinds of adversity, your wholesome smarts, and your gentle good humour. I am saddened by stories of your internment many years ago, your recent illness and your inconsiderate detractors; but, I’m heartened by your stamina, your spirit and your decency.

I try to put a positive slant on any topic about which I write: It’s my small way of gifting encouragement to myself and to others following years of my own personal sorrows. With that in mind, I wanted to express my sincere hope that you will continue to endure life’s hardships in characteristic John McCain style; and, that you’ll find contentment in whatever lies in store for you.

With sincere best wishes ... NHG

Reviled ... Favourite

Click on Picture to Enlarge
The dandelion, long admired
for its ability to grant wishes
when blown to the wind ...

As new recruit to the Mount Hamilton Horticultural Society's writing group, who cooperatively submit garden related articles to the Hamilton Mountain News, I'm pleased to have been published in the community newspaper's Growing Green column online today.

Text of my initial opinion piece, which they titled, Reviled Dandelion an Early Spring Favourite is linked here and posted below - I hope you'll give it some thought.

"With springtime fast approaching, I find myself looking forward to the first spring colours and fragrant blossoms.

One of my early favourites is the sunny dandelion, or Taraxacum officinale. Though long reviled as scourge to lawn and garden, it is one of the first available sources of sustenance for bees and other pollinating species.

Though children have long admired the dandelion's ability to grant wishes when blown to the wind, the modest dandelion’s astonishing ability to self-seed and its deep burrowing taproot invites definition as invasive weed.

However, dent de lion, or tooth of the lion, so named for the shape of its leaves, is perennial and herbaceous and has many beneficial qualities that might render even the fussiest grass grower silent about dandelion eradication.

Untreated, dandelion is said to be completely edible — roots, greens and flowers — unless allergy or contraindicated medications prohibit. It offers beneficial treatment and curative properties for a multitude of human illnesses and conditions, containing vitamins A, C and K, iron, manganese, potassium, calcium and antioxidants. Dandelions also make an interesting wine and caffeine-free coffee.

I suggest welcoming the healthful herb-like greenery to your garden as you would parsley or kale, picking the seeds prior to flight to prevent too much spread.

That said, if your esthetic sensibilities simply will not coexist with dandelions, allow pollinators to feed on the life-sustaining plant until other pollen-laden blooms are ready, then carefully dig out the roots rather than using harmful pesticides and consider transplanting some of the dandelions to your veggie patch.

The University of Rochester boasts the hardy dandelion as a school colour and official flower. It has honoured the “weed” in its charming school song, The Dandelion Yellow.

Its celebration of the oft-maligned dandelion is inspirational and hopefully contagious. After all, enhancing your garden with healthy multi-species nourishment such as the dandelion aids in pollinator survival and benefits us all in many unexpected ways."

Growing Green is a regular Hamilton Mountain News feature prepared by the Mount Hamilton Horticultural Society (On Facebook and online at gardenontario.org/site.php/mhhs)

It's Too Darn Hot!

So, this morning I was making my mom a pot of tea.

I boil the water and pour it into the waiting carafe, and five minutes later mom starts to pour a cup, and the water is clear. Seriously, I didn't put a tea bag in the pot ... first time ever, I think.

So, we laugh, and I pour the water from the carafe back into the kettle, boil it again, put a bag in the carafe, pour in the water and set the carafe on my island to steep ... and, of course, I got busy and forgot about it.

An hour later, I finally notice the carafe and decide to remove the tea bag before leaving the pot with mom; and, somehow I manage to drop the spoon into the carafe, which luckily doesn't break, but now I can't get the spoon out because IT'S TOO DARN HOT IN THERE!

At this point, I wonder briefly if I might be getting old, before I remember that it's more likely I'm sleep deprived; so, I take a deep breath; and, we laugh again.

I use a second spoon to remove the tea bag from the pot and mom finally gets her cup of tea ... but, the carafe is still holding the first spoon hostage.

Rodent Revenge

CBC reporter, Brett Ruskin, was bitten this morning by Nova Scotia's famed groundhog, Shubenacadie Sam (a sort of rodent revenge, I thought) and, I found myself laughing out loud.

I did not find Ruskin’s injury humourous (although, in hindsight, organizers might have seen it coming) or the circus atmosphere of the Groundhog Day ceremony and aftermath to be entertaining (it was, as always, unnecessarily frightening for the unfortunate groundhog): I laughed when Ruskin temporarily lost his composure, on-air, and interjected something like, "Forget the prediction, I'm bleeding."

Groundhog Day has long been my favourite day of the year; because, regardless of the whole six-more-weeks-yea-or-nay thing, it figuratively gives me hope that spring is out there, somewhere. For many years, though, I've disliked the unfortunate circumstances thrust upon the poor captive rodent.

Terrifying a shy marmot monax (the groundhog’s Latin name) simply for entertainment value, just seems cruel to me; and, since the CBC reporter was injured in a greased-pig-style stampede to corral Shubenacadie Sam - who’d suddenly tried to escape his captors and literally go over the wall - I thought Ruskin rather deserved the beleaguered groundhog’s defensive bite.

All laughing aside, continuing to assign knowledge of spring’s arrival date to a shy prognosticating groundhog, who uses the inconclusive shadow-or-no-shadow method, seems antiquated and unnecessary. After all, spring arrives on March 20th every year, one way or the other - Always has, always will.

The 60 Year Milestone

My First Photograph
Held by a Nurse - At 2-days-old
The Camera Flash Reflected on the Window Glass
Through Which my Dad Took the Picture

I woke up this morning, having reached the 60 year milestone; and, I initially found it a tough age to accept.

This birthday, though a long time coming, simply arrived before I was ready - before I could achieve many life goals, to my own satisfaction. My unfinished "bucket list," so-to-speak, includes: 

• Completing the BA I began long ago
• Finding myself, life's-work-wise
• Owning more of my house than the bank
• Mastering the piano and ukelele
• Writing a great Canadian novel, and
• Acquiring a few stamps in my passport

I was born 60 years ago today at the Salvation Army Grace Hospital in our nation's capital. My dad always said I was the most expensive thing he ever bought at the Salvation Army. Mom and I spent a week in hospital - as was the custom back then - during which, my first photograph (above) was taken. It was an inauspicious beginning that eventually resulted in:

• The first High School graduate in one branch of my family
• A successful marriage, not once but twice
• Three special children and four treasured grandchildren
• Certificates for Fashion Design and Writing For Publication
• Second place in an international fashion design contest, and
• Oft published in local papers; and, in Reader's Digest, thrice

This taking stock - the listing of my accomplishments - certainly helps counteract the negativity of the bucket list and the unwelcome reality that I'm closer to the end than I am to the beginning, these days. It also brings me consolation through the following four positives:

• I'm happily married to a supportive and loving guy
• The elusive BA is neither time-sensitive nor essential
• I'm still moving forward, so anything is possible, and
• Not all great destinations reside in a passport

So, here's to my next milestone - whenever and whatever it might be! Since I can't keep birthdays from coming, I'll work on accepting them gracefully. After all, now that I think about it, there's usually cake!

My Grandad

 A picture of Grandad baiting a hook
while my hair flies as I cast my rod
behind him, and Grama looks on.

My grandad, my dad's dad, had a gruff demeanor and a gravely-gruff sounding voice: Even so, I remember him as one of the kindest men I ever knew. Though he suddenly passed away nearly fifty years ago, in my heart and mind, he remains a truly memorable individual.

The late 1960's found my grandparents semi-retired and transplanted to a home in Florida: We were all missing them very much. One evening in October, my father suddenly decided to fly south for a visit. As I was still awake when he was making his plans, I implored him to take me with him.

A late-night phone call, to my elementary school principal's home, and I was quickly given the go-ahead to miss a week of school in favour of another educational adventure. The very next morning I was on an airplane with my dad, headed to Florida for the vacation of a lifetime.

We were picked up in Tampa by my grama & grandad, and Grama’s brother Charlie. During the week, I got to: swim in the ocean, drink orange juice freshly squeezed in an orange grove, watch an alligator eating raw chicken, glimpse a rocket at Cape Canaveral from the highway, go trick-or-treating, tease Grandad by repeatedly knocking on the door and then hiding behind a bush, and spend a lovely afternoon fishing while Grandad and Daddy accidentally caught and battled both a crab and a stingray.

This amazing week with Grama and Grandad as well as neighbouring great-aunt Hilda and great-uncle Charlie remains vivid in my memory. I remember my dad, who rarely enjoyed vacations, really seemed to enjoy his week with his parents, and I loved every minute of it.

Just prior to boarding our airplane home; my grandad, while hugging me good-bye, said something strangely serious considering my young age. He told me that he wanted me to remember the good times we had together, the laughing and joking and hugging; and, that I shouldn't come to his funeral when his time came.

Once on the plane, I remember crying because there were no window seats in coach on the side of the plane that faced the viewing area on the tarmac. I also remember that a nice flight attendant let my dad and I sit in 1st class so that we could wave good-bye to our loved ones.

My grandad died in Florida, less than three months later from a sudden heart attack; and, my dad (with his sisters) headed south again, this time to bury his father. I didn't get the chance to say that I couldn't go on this sad mission: The decision was made for me. And though I alone knew, that the decision was my grandad's preferred choice, I was relieved.

Losing this special man, the day before my 10th birthday, hit very hard and close to home. Over the years, I've tried to honour my grandad around this time each year, by remembering as he said, the good times we had together and the laughing and joking and hugging.

All these years later, uncle Charlie, aunt Hilda, my grama and my dad have all passed on as well. Luckily, I'm still comforted by the memories I treasure from that unexpected reunion in Florida, and the few faded photos - like the one above, taken by my dad - from that last week we all spent together.