Happy New Year!

2013 Calendar

Here we are on the cusp of another new year. As I look back on the old year, I think about the good, the bad, the highs and lows that made my life what it was in 2012.

Some goals were met, some have to be carried forward into the new year and others will continue to be a foundation to be built upon.

I try hard to be a good person with a positive attitude but of course there are failings along the way and at times I feel sorry for myself when life is not shaping up to be what I expect it to be. As always, I pull myself together, regain my focus and get on with life.

2013 is almost here. I wish you the best in the new year. We may stumble along the way and there is no shame in that as long as we get up and keep moving forward.

Be good to yourself! Be kind to others! Fill your calendar with activities!

Happy New Year!

Will keep you posted.

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noёl! Feliz Navidad! Happy Holidays!

Another Christmas Day is here filled with excitement and expectations. Just like birthdays, each Christmas reminds me of how quickly life goes by and I take a few moments to remember Christmas Days past.

Advent Calendar

Christmas of my childhood began in November when the house was made bare. This entailed pictures being removed from the walls and ornaments packed away. It meant shopping for fabric to recover the cushions of the heavy mahogany settee and two chairs; material for new curtains; oilskin by the yard for the kitchen table; Christmas cards chosen specifically to Mummy and Daddy or Aunt or Uncle or Across the Miles at Christmastime to those relatives overseas. Everything in the china cabinet was taken out to be washed. It was a time of receiving cards with English pounds or American or Canadian dollars or money orders from relatives in those countries or waiting to see those relatives fortunate enough to be back home for a Christmas holiday. It was a time of sewing, baking, shopping for the perfect ham, new shoes (usually patent leather made extra shiny with Vaseline), a newly sewn dress and just a time of excitement. It was a time of painting the house and weeding and trimming the front yard. It was a time of scrubbing the floors on your knees, no fancy gadgets then except if you considered a scrubbing brush as fancy.

Christmas Eve would be spent baking, cooking the ham, seasoning the meats, stuffing cushions into new covers, putting the china and glassware back into the cabinet, the pictures on the walls and the ornaments back in their place, decorating the Christmas tree, tying balloons in the windows as part of the decorations, making the beds with fresh linen and when this was all done, there was still church to attend and parcels of ham and baked goods prepared by my mother to be delivered to the older people in our area who lived alone and no longer did such preparations for themselves.

On Christmas morning, the house was transformed inside and out. The day’s cooking would be on the way and not just a family meal; there had to be enough food and drink (hard and soft) to satiate those who dropped by.  Unlike now where children receive many gifts, back then you may receive one gift but the excitement was in the preparation, leading up the Christmas Day. Maybe it was stressful for the adults but everyone appeared to be happy and looked forward to visits and visiting others.

I look back at the Christmas Days of my childhood with fond memories but I especially appreciate the Christmas Days when my three daughters were little. Their wonder leading up to Christmas at various stages from writing their Christmas lists to Santa, taking part in the Christmas pageant, singing in the Children’s choir to now, as adults. I still put out the Advent Calendar from their childhood and watch as the middle child, Leah, and the youngest, Sharon, excitedly move the mouse ahead when they visit and then text each other to brag about it. For some reason, Tracey, the eldest, never got into this battle; smart girl:) She’s already here but from the photo above, the mouse is still at Day 18. He will be moved to Day 24 later for sure but by whom? That depends on who arrives first; Leah or Sharon.

The girls come home for Christmas and I enjoy making a big feast. Eventually they may wish to spend Christmas in their own homes with their family and have others over or with a sister and her family or travel. They will start to develop traditions that bring them joy and I will be happy for them.

Christmas is a time of happiness, wonderment and memories, some of them bittersweet.  Let’s raise a glass to family, friends, those no longer with us but who will forever be part of our memories and enjoy the day.

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noёl! Feliz Navidad! Happy Holidays!

Will keep you posted.

Door-to-Door-Soliciting

Clipboard

I was working away at my computer with so many items still to get done and wishing I could be an octopus at least for the day when I heard the doorbell. Expecting my last born who was coming by to get ready for a Christmas party, I ran up the stairs to open the door (don’t ask, they all have keys but prefer to ring the bell).

Looking out the sidelight, I could see it was not my favourite last born but a dreaded person with a clipboard trying to look official. To my question of, “How can I help you?” the response was they are in the area checking hot water tanks and would like to come in and check if mine has the stickers being pointed out to me on the clipboard. I politely stated I was not interested, twice, and closed the door, cheesed off at the interruption.

As I sat down at the computer, I wondered, and not for the first time, why anyone would choose to do such a job. Doors are closed in faces and who actually invites these strangers into their home, leads them to the farthest corner of their laundry room and lets them muck around with their equipment?

Since there is no end to these doorbell ringers, it appears there are many trusting souls on both sides. The person at my door was a young woman and I cannot imagine any of my daughters entering a strange home and following a stranger to the basement. I may not be interested in the service you are offering but I hope you remain safe.

Will keep you posted.

Barbados Independence

First Prime Minister of Barbados,
Errol W. Barrow (an original pin)

Today, Barbadians or Bajans as we like to call ourselves, celebrate 46 years of independence from Britain.

As I checked out photos of the capital, Bridgetown, and the people decked out in the national colours of ultramarine, gold and black and this morning as I watched the live broadcast of the parade, I wondered why I never considered visiting my place of birth at this time of year.  Well, I have added visiting Barbados during Independence celebrations to my list.

Barbadians have much for which to be thankful and although Barbados, like many nations worldwide, has encountered economic difficulties, Bajans remain a positive and industrious people, who find ways to overcome their hardships. I remember women who made and sold confections and pudding and souse and cultivated kitchen gardens or sewed and the men who sold snow balls (now snow cones) and learnt to be tailors and bakers and other trades to earn a living and support their families; most often done right from their homes. 

To Barbados, Bajans and Bajan wannabes everywhere, have a wonderful and safe Independence Day celebration. Until I am there to celebrate in person, have a shot, or two, of rum for me.

Will keep you posted!

President Obama Will Win

I am going on the record to state, unequivocally, President Obama will win the election and his win will have ripple, no make that tsunami effects on the right.

He will win because he deserves to win. President Obama is a great example of staying strong, cool and collected in the face of incredible resistance and disrespect from the right. Even more galling are the intellectually stunted willing to believe that by the virtue of their skin colour, they are so much better than this President.  They know who they are and it will pain their sorry derrieres to see him still standing after their onslaught.

President Obama is the epitome of the American Dream and his story should be one loved by the right since he pulled himself up by his bootstraps and all that. He is highly educated, personable, witty and easy on the eyes. The family values Christians should see him as an example of their beliefs as he is still with his original wife and has no scandals (sexual or otherwise) unlike many we could name in their camp. Were these qualities to be found in one of their own, along with steady management of the foreign policy file, healthcare and especially eliminating Osama bin Laden, the right would have been over the moon . Anyone running against such a candidate would have been looking at very long odds of winning and might as well have folded up their tent and slunk away long ago.

But no, they insist he is not an American; demand to see his birth certificate and college records when this has never been asked of any other president or candidate for the position; question his religious affiliation and happily forward the vilest emails to denigrate him.  Heck, Mitt Romney not showing ten to twelve years of tax returns caused nary a ripple with the belligerent right who would have been blowing a gasket if candidate Obama had pulled that crap. Even the so-called Christians, who never respected Mitt Romney’s religion and called it a cult, can now overlook the lies, flip-flops and copious amounts of bovine excrement and embrace Romney, whose rivals found him unpalatable and so difficult to love back in the primaries. For shame!

President Obama is who he is, so the knives must be drawn to eviscerate him. The lies told are so out there one finds it hard to imagine anyone with two brain cells to rub together would believe them but they do. To allow this decent man a scintilla of success, even as his accomplishments are evident, would put to lie their racist, malignant beliefs that his skin colour deems him inferior, therefore he must be slagged and disrespected. From the day he was inaugurated, the nastiness of those who brayed for his failure was evident. Lord forbid they spent the time and energy looking for ways to work with him to achieve success.  Their behaviour showed they would rather have their country suffer than have this Black president succeed and as we can see, they would rather support a man with no core who is easily buffeted and spun like a weather vane in a wind storm. 

I believe President Obama’s win will be the best thing for the right although they won't see it right away.   After the initial hysterics, convulsions and conniptions, they will be forced to take stock and regroup and look at why self-respecting minorities want nothing to do with them. Why racists are happy as pigs in merde under their banner.  Why the most insane christofascists are supported as viable candidates and are emboldened to stick their noses in women’s uteri. Why they advocate and support draconian measures to restrict a woman’s right to choose her healthcare and why they see voter suppression as a great way to win elections. They need to make their party uncomfortable for the simple minded egoists, the terminally stupid, racists, malcontents, Christians in name only and the happily ignorant and loving it who have found a happy home to the exclusion of the moderates. 

A purging will take place, naturally and with great effort. Many of those who thought it the height of intelligence to hold signs at tea party rallies warning government to keep its hands off their Medicare would have shuffled off to their just rewards. The upswing in minority populations will take care of a few more by weakening their grasp on power. Hopefully, shame will come back in style and force many to keep their stupidities and prejudices in check as no decent person would entertain their pathetic behaviour.

I do not believe this race is as close as is reported daily. I believe there are more decent people who are dismayed by the behaviour of the right and are embarrassed by the candidates they support and see no reason to reward abhorrent behaviour. These are the people who will re-elect President Obama who, in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, showed his quiet strength and compassion and modelled how working across party lines benefits all.

To have it any other way would be to condone, lying, corruption, deceit, racism and overall disgusting behaviour.  Good people will never allow this.

Will keep you posted!

A Tapeworm Story

I was hooked from the first sentence. I kept reading, knowing at some point in this story, I would be cringing. If it were a movie, my hand would be up to my face and I would be peeking through my fingers at what was developing in front of me.

Tapeworm

The writer just reels you into his story. I was feeling the  movement in his bowels along with him.

I thought about the tapeworm diet I had read about; you buy eggs and the resulting worm(s) would share your calories therefore helping you to lose weight. Is this what happened to tapeworm egg dieters when they had reached optimal weight and their diet pal had to 'move on'? The horror:)

If you like stories that are humorous, slightly off-kilter with a soupçon of scary as in OMG, what if that happened to me? Click here to read the story.

Will keep you posted!

Quinces

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade the old saying goes but what to do when your neighbour hands you quinces? Well, you make quince jam or is that just me?

I have had quince jelly but never had the opportunity to get up close and personal with this fruit. I never saw them at the supermarket nor the farmers’ market but surprisingly last Friday, there they were at one stall at the farmers’ market.  Not many but enough, I will assume, to get those who know the fruit to buy or pique the curiosity of others to try them. 

I was being advised left, right and centre on the web that quince is inedible (I tried a small piece; it was not that bad) and it looked like everyone was pushing jelly. Since I wanted to use all the fruit, well, not the wormy bits, I was on the lookout for a simple jam recipe. I found it and voilà, the result:

Quinces - From Fruit to Jam

In the middle of winter when I bite into a piece of toast covered in quince jam, I will be taken back to a beautiful autumn day and the heavenly aroma of quinces simmering on the stove.

Will keep you posted!

Eat-More Lovers, Unite!

Tasty, nutty, chewy. What more can one ask for in a treat? Not the first choice of many but what do we Eat-More lovers care? We know what they are missing; that chewy, chewy goodness.

Eat-More Candy

I admit it, sometimes I opt for other bars but more often than not, I choose the delicious Eat-More.

I have been kidded about my love for Eat-More bars and  been told I am the only person buying them.  Your snark rolls off me like so much water off a duck’s back.

Hershey is not making this delicious, chewy candy just for me so wherever you are Eat-More lovers, show your love for this delectable treat; flaunt it and eat it with pride. I do.

Will keep you posted!

Sammy Bear - A Cat Tale

My daughter Sharon and her husband Mark had to put to sleep their beloved cat, Sammy Bear.

Sammy was a rescue cat. He was a big, handsome, long-haired cat. Sammy was not the most fastidious of cats and not much into grooming.  Despite efforts to keep him well brushed, he had to be taken in on a number of occasions for expert grooming because his fur would be in knots. Sammy would be shaved and return looking like a little alien.

Sammy Bear

He was such a loving, gentle cat who insisted on sleeping between Sharon and Mark and licking Mark to the point where to get adequate rest, they installed a baby gate to keep him on the lower level. Not liking this arrangement, like a persistent child, his cries would soften hearts and Sammy would be back in his favourite spot. 

Sammy loved Sharon but he adored Mark who returned the love. We would often see Mark playing with Sammy and talking baby-talk to him. What cat would not enjoy such attention especially after his original home was not a happy place for a cat.

Sammy started to deteriorate late last year. There were additional trips to the vet, medicine and special food until something was found that he liked and he would be stable for some time and be his old self. However, the good times dwindled. After his last shave, his fur did not grow in. He was not eating and unlike previous times, he could not be coaxed to even eat his beloved treats.  Sammy had become a shadow of himself and his bones were protruding.

It was time. On October 4 at 5:15 p.m., Sammy Bear was put to sleep. We are sad and will miss that lovable kitty.  Sammy will be remembered as a sweet-natured cat and we, his family, believe his constant licks were thanks for rescuing him and making the last years of his life as stress-free and full of love as all cats deserve.

Will keep you posted.

President Obama – Underestimate at Your Peril

It appears pundits and some of President Obama`s supporters tuned in last night to watch the President as pugilist and not as debater.  From their shrieks of disappointment in his performance, it looks like they wanted him to pummel Mitt Romney to the mat or maybe drop-kick him out of the ring. That would have been spectacular, for a minute.

Yes, President Obama was low-key and I believe it was for a very good reason. I do not think for a minute he was off his game.

Angry Black Guy, Uppity are just two derogatory terms used to describe President Obama and are all too familiar to Blacks who, in the opinion of some, dared to rise above their station in life.  It does not matter that he has reached the highest position on this planet; President Obama will always be less than in their warped, simple minds, as can be attested to in this Media Matters link.

Would his detractors have been happy to see this thoughtful president go up against the combative Romney of last night with anger and aggression?  The right would still be having conniptions. Fiery headlines would be blazing across the internet on how the angry Black man beat up on poor, ole Mitt and how dare he!.  Talking points would be spewing forth like so much puke at a party of drunks. There would be no end of clips of an angry Obama appearing in ads to further scare the fearful and fence-sitters.  The angry black man label, attached to President Obama, would have hit the stratosphere with predictable results.

President Obama did not get to where he is by being reckless and stupid; he is a thinker; he is logical; he plays the long game. I believe he allowed Mitt Romney to win this debate (and the pundits to lose their collective merde) knowing Romney and the right would rejoice and spend precious time high-fiving, gloating and revisiting the embers of the debate to bask in any remaining glow. 

Meanwhile, President Obama has put himself in a position to use the remaining debates to his advantage.  Romney threw all the punches he had in this first round; let him have his moment but he has been further tagged as a flip-flopper and having a passing relationship with the truth. He defined himself before a huge audience. I am sure Mitt Romney is on a high and thinking he has President Obama on the ropes and unless he flops back from the debate flip, he has nothing more to add to the upcoming debates.

To those who wanted anger and aggression, remember, Barack Obama is the President not a street brawler. You would have been doubly disappointed if he had behaved in such a manner. To those on the right, you may wish to enjoy your pyrrhic victory and, may I suggest, if you have never heard of rope-a-dope, look it up..

Will keep you posted.

My Birthday

September is over and with it, another birthday.

After being pestered about how I would like to celebrate my milestone birthday, my daughters ignored everything I said about a quiet dinner out and decided a surprise party would be the way to go. It made my night to see the cross section of family and friends the girls brought together to celebrate with me. To  boot, there was dancing which gave me the opportunity to strut my stuff (love that expression) which I had not done for some time.

Tracey, Leah and Sharon, I love you and thank you for making my birthday a wonderful celebration.  Sometimes it pays to disobey your mother but just this once.

Leah, the one being celebrated, Tracey & Sharon

Will keep you posted.

My Mother

My mother, Maggie

On this Mother’s Day, I look back at my mother, Maggie, who died April 17, 1995. I think of her every day, and every day I put her practical advice into use. I credit my mother for the woman I am today, strong enough to raise my three lovelies, Tracey, Leah and Sharon, after my marriage was no more, to be the strong, professional women they are today.

My mother was already in her forties when I was born and although I often wondered if I was a surprise, she never once gave me that impression.  She was a practical woman, a kind person and good with money which there was not a lot of but we made do and she handled the household finances.  Along with my father's job, my parents had a field of sugarcane, a few cows, sheep, pigs and poultry.  They sold milk, butchered pigs for sale and we always had fresh poultry and eggs. I cannot remember ever wanting for much as a child. It probably helped that although families were bigger back then, I was the only child in the home after my bother married when I was six.

Every day I put my mother’s wisdom into play and I have always imparted it to my girls, especially when they may be having a rough day.  Here are a few examples of my mother’s advice (and yes, many of them are universal) in no particular order of importance and how I applied them to my life (these would have been said in our local dialect which I would not try to type hereJ:

Never let anyone live rent free in your head

• It is easy to internalized slings and arrows of others; to be hurt by negative comments and behaviour but after a day or two of constantly thinking about it and planning numerous ways of getting back at the person, I have learnt to either let it go or confront the person, trash it out and let it go

Consider the source

• Some people are not worth the effort. As much as we would like to think there are no lost causes, some of us are just destructive and should be avoided as much as possible. If avoidance is not possible, see above

The dog that brings a bone carries a bone

• Do not participate in gossip. Do not share anything with anyone that you do not mind being on the street

No one can take away your education

• Arm yourself so you are not at the mercy of others

Education is not commonsense

• Education is a must (see above) but commonsense will serve you well

Never put a stumbling block in anyone’s way

• Self explanatory. Will come back to bite you in the nether regions

Be careful  of the hole you dig for others that you do not fall in yourself

• Something more of us should think about. Always consequences to our actions

Keep a secret

• Let the person spread it if they wish but not you
• I have a vivid example as a young teen when an older teen told me an extremely personal secret. I told a friend and so on, and so on. It got back to the young lady in question, she complained to my mother and after I was read the riot act my mother advised the young lady she had no business telling me what she had done anyway and to keep such behaviour to herself. A twofer.

Never concern yourself with how people got what they have ’cause you do not know what they did to get it

• Speaks for itself

Do not be poor and show poor

• If you have one shirt, wash and iron at the end of each day and people will think you have many

Always have your own bank account

• Good to have the communal pot but it never hurts to be in control of some personal cash and you will never be at the mercy of anyone whether they are a miser or spendthrift

Share with others

• You may think you do not have much but there will be others who could use a little help. I remember as a child, especially at Christmas and Easter, taking parcels of ham, baked goods a drink or two to old widows who did not have much or who were no longer up to the task of preparing traditional foods at the holidays
• Back in the day, visitors would just drop by unannounced on Sundays, there was always enough food made just in case, hence leftover Mondays

These sentiments are shared by many but the trick is not to just hear what was said but to apply it to everyday lives. I miss my mother and wish she could have been around to see her grandchildren grow up. I did not always see eye-to-eye with her  and there were days, as a teenager, wishing for freedom from rules and a lax mother but I am glad for the one I had. Because of who she was and her practicality, I am the woman I am and I imparted her wisdom to her grandchildren and I am sure it will flow unto her great-grands and so on. She will forever live in our hearts.

Will keep you posted.

Turn the Other Cheek? Hell No!

I am not a violent person; Lord knows I would rather avoid confrontation and failing that use diplomacy and tact to diffuse the situation. However, the feelings of anger, rage, impotence and outright revenge that engulfed me when I started to watch the video of Fullerton, California cops, Manuel Ramos and Jay Cicinelli, beating and tasering the homeless and mentally ill man, Kelly Thomas, overwhelmed me.

I could not watch to completion as tears and sadness weighed me down when  Mr. Thomas started apologizing (for what?) probably thinking this would stop the assault. I totally lost it when he started calling for his father. Yet, those thugs (I will not state here what I really called them), totally devoid of feelings, empathy and compassion, continued their brutal assault on this man, whose crime, it appears, was to be homeless and mentally ill.

Thank goodness for surveillance cameras because without the video, the story may well be the usual one told by rogue cops of the victim being the aggressor.  Thanks also to social media which will ensure a wider audience is aware of another senseless death by cruel men.  One would think after incidents like Rodney King and Robert Dziekanski, cops would temper their behaviour but hell no, seems some of them just can't help themselves.

A man is dead because of the brutality of those who promised to serve and protect; it is to laugh at the irony.  We can only follow this case and hope justice is served but the way I felt after listening to Mr. Thomas’ apologies and cries for his dad, I would willingly repay those cops in kind. Not interested in the death penalty, that would be too good for them. Let them start each day experiencing what Mr. Thomas endured.to just within an inch of their lives. Every night they would be forced to watch the video on a loop playing throughout the night ensuring they would hear Mr. Thomas' cries each time they tossed and turned in their fitful sleep. It’s only fair to have their actions and the beaten face of Mr. Thomas seared into their brains until the day they die. They deserve no less.

Will keep you posted.

What’s a Poor Grammarian to Do?

Contractions

We’ve seen it or have been guilty of it; using “your” when clearly it should be“you’re”, making it obvious some of us have a problem with contractions and the difference between “your” and “you’re".

Just check out the comments on blog posts, Twitter, Facebook and other social media to see "your' running rampant with nary a "you're" in sight.

Once upon a time one could count on some smarty-pants acting as grammar police on a thread, calling out writers who assaulted the language, but not so much anymore. I think they’ve decided their sanity is worth more than correct grammar. Or maybe it was the abuse hurled at them for pointing out grammar shortcomings.

“Looser” instead of “loser” is showing up more these days but that’s another post. Language evolves but please, not like this.

Anyway, here, thanks to @hilzFuld, is a perfect and hilarious example of "your" and "you're". If you don't get it, don't worry; no one will call you a "looser" or is it "loser"?

Language evolves but please, not like this.

Will keep you posted.

Alone But Not Lonely

Here we are on the cusp of May; almost five months into the year and no sign of the nice man I am to meet.  Yup, he is one of my resolutions for this year; meet a nice man for companionship.  Actually, he was one of my goals last year as well. So far, there’s no sign of him. He sure is elusive.

Where are the older men? They can’t all be living like hermits. Are they all in relationships?  Have they tried the dating scene and given up? Have they migrated to younger women? Well, some of them have. I seldom see older men on their own. You can guaranty if there’s an older man pushing a grocery cart or walking around a store, his partner is not far off.

I complain about not meeting anyone, but truth be told, I am not looking that hard. Actually, I am not looking at all. If it happens, so be it. I have walked the married/in a relationship road with less than stellar results. I have found myself putting up with shoddy behaviour and wondered why, since outside my marriage when my girls were little, I was never financially dependent on anyone. It was not like I was fulfilling my dreams of travel with any of them, or dinners, theatre, tours. No, these relationships were basic; dinner, movie, dance and a picnic once a year. Of course, in the beginning there would be gifts and more movies and dinners. Then the comments would start about how much they enjoy just having a home-cooked meal and just hanging out at home. How relaxing it is to just stay in.  How going out on a holiday Monday is difficult because of work on Tuesday which just left Saturday as an OK day. Going out would be reduced further to the bare minimum to tamp down on my complaints of “You don’t take me anywhere.”

Mingy, My Adorable Companion

Marriage is not in my future.  Neither is sharing my home with anyone. I am at a place in my life where having a companion for social activities is all I require. So what type of man would fit the bill? Here is what I wrote on the subject on December 31, 2011:

So if you are independent, unattached, financially responsible, care about your relatives and pets; date women close to your age, love hanging out, movies, theatre, day trips, travel and giving back; if you look fairly decent, take care of yourself, have a live and let live attitude and a sense of humour; if you keep abreast of what’s going on in the world and at least try to keep up with technology; if you are not set in your ways and just waiting for death, maybe we’ll meet sooner than later.

Knowing what I want from a relationship (even one that is yet to materialize) is half the battle. Learning from my mistakes makes it easier to be upfront in a new relationship. I won’t settle for less again even if it means being alone but definitely not lonely especially with Mingy (pictured) to keep me company.

Will keep you posted. 

An Advantageous Pregnancy

An Advantageous Pregnancy

As I was cruising through the usual blogs and social media I tend to peruse on a daily basis, I came across an entry stating that one Bristol Palin of Alaska has a new reality show. That got me thinking about the vagaries of life.

Here is a twenty-one year old woman, who was thrust into the international spotlight as the very pregnant, unmarried, seventeen year old daughter of Republican VP candidate, Sarah Palin. Knowing how her mother’s party is so against teenage pregnancies, it was surprising how all was accepted and forgiven. One couldn’t help thinking if circumstances had been reversed and she had been the daughter of the Democratic candidate, it would have been less than a forgiving acceptance.

When the campaign was over, just like the children of failed candidates, she was expected to return to her previous life. That was not to be as this young woman has been given such high-profile and well-paying opportunities such as being on the show,  Dancing with the Stars to demonstrate her dancing  skills  (or lack thereof), covers of tabloid  magazines, spokesperson for teenage abstinence and now, her own reality show.

There are many teenage mothers who have succeeded against great odds but spare a thought for the teenage mothers who are struggling to finish high school or college, probably holding down a job or two.  Maybe they had to drop out of school and are struggling to make the best of their situation while dealing with society’s disapproval. Their lives are forever changed because they became pregnant. Who is calling them up to have them give speeches on the joys of abstinence because clearly having sex makes one an expert on abstinence, but I digress.

It's obvious that in some quarters, becoming a teenage mother does not so much disrupt life and force a change in direction for the young woman, it is a stepping stone to fame and riches.

A cautionary note to any young girl thinking she may be as fortunate as the young woman in question; think, really think of the life being led by a teenage mother and see if it resembles the lifestyle of this young woman. Then face reality and realize this will only work out for you if your mother was the failed Republican VP candidate from Alaska. I kid you not!

Will keep you posted.

Rethink Pink

I have nothing against pink; it's a beautiful colour with a rich history and most often associated with babies and little girls.

In recent memory, pink became the colour for the fight against breast cancer and was embraced by many because of this worthy cause. Manufacturers jumped onto the pink bandwagon and started slapping the ubiquitous pink ribbon on all types of products.

Some of us were perturbed by what appeared to be an unholy alliance of manufacturers and search for the cure  organizations which looked like a big industry unto itself. Pink was appearing on every item possible; shoes, bags, hats, clothing, jewellery, gardening items, home décor, office supplies, mugs, small kitchen appliances, pet supplies, you name it, it has probably been 'pinked'. The pink ribbon and the colour pink had become marketing tools. I have to admit I steered away from pink products and all products sporting the pink ribbon. I never felt comfortable with any of them.

In light of the Susan G. Komen disastrous decision to defund Planned Parenthood and the 'reversal' a few days later after a huge backlash, in my opinion, it`s time for women to stop encouraging and buying into the 'pinking' of our health. Millions of dollars have been raised and spent and are we any further ahead than we were ten years ago in a search for a cure? Maybe it`s time to shift our focus to prevention as a viable part of cancer research as well.

From the Susan G. Komen fiasco, we can see that an organization headed by women supposedly working for the good of women does not always have the interests of women at the heart of its objectives. It`s a shame breast cancer and women`s health have become politicized but it`s great to see that women, prompted by the Komen decision, found their voice and forced that organization to back down and their V.P. for Public Affairs, Karen Handel, to resign. Even better to see the role social media, like Twitter and Facebook, played in getting women`s voices heard.

We women have the numbers. If we let others have jurisdiction over our healthcare, we will have no one to blame but ourselves. Let`s rethink pink.

Will keep you posted.  

Linda, on What Cancer is and is Not

I came across this video and was struck by the brutal honesty and forthrightness portrayed by Linda.

It takes guts and self-awareness, not possessed by many, to say what Linda says.  She not only speaks about cancer, she explains and shows the results of the various medical treatments required to halt the progress of the illness and the resulting changes to her body.

Explaining what cancer is and does is not all Linda offers; she rails against the politicization of this disease and her severing of her support for the Susan G. Komen charity that recently cut funding to Planned Parenthood. N.B. After an enormous backlash, Susan G. Komen has reversed their decision.

As Linda said, “Cancer makes you frank…it makes you no longer scared.” She comes across as one fearless and fierce lady. Kudos to her.

Will keep you posted.

An Iconic Photograph

My Daughters

There is a photo of me sitting on a bed with my three daughters, Tracey, Leah and Sharon.  Tracey (three) and Leah (one) are on my left and Sharon, a few months old, is on my lap.

It was obviously a happy moment. There I am with a big afro, wearing a top I still remember vividly, Tracey and Leah all smiles, Sharon with her hand in her mouth and my arms around them.

This was one photo in a series of photos, a snapshot among many, but for some reason, the girls have always liked it. Why this one and not another? To my daughters, it has become an iconic photo to the point I was pestered to make poster size prints which I never got around to doing.  Tracey took it a step further and commissioned an artist to put this photo on canvas. I had no idea she was doing this so when it was presented to me, I was pleasantly surprised and could not stop looking at it.

My Daughters

The painting is magnificent and I have to commend the artist Ilene Sova. Details were brought to light that are not readily apparent in the small snapshot; the red barrette in Tracey’s hair, the flowers on Leah’s top, the bangle on her arm and the amount of hair on Sharon’s head.

The painting is in a place of honour in my living room and there it shall remain.  Thank you Tracey for getting this done. Thank you Leah and Sharon.  I could not ask for better daughters.

My Daughters

I look at the painting with new eyes and can see why the girls like it so much. We are all together in a loving embrace and this is how we remain.

Will keep you posted.