Mysterious Critter Nest

This is (was) my clothepin bag. For the past couple of weeks every time I've gone outside to hang clothes on the line I've found my pins buried in sticks.  The bag hangs about 3 or 3 1/2 feet off the ground.  One day I removed all the sticks, tossed them on the ground but left my clothes carrying bag hung near-by, planning to retrieve the clothes that day as soon as they were dry. I didn't get there till the next day and there they were, all the sticks, in my carry bag. So, once again I dumped the sticks.  This has continued to happen often enough to become a pain in the you know what, so I decided to remove all my clothes pins, put them in a closed bag, and I've left this critter home as is to wait and see if it actually gets used. The whole thing seems odd to me because my clothes line is a high traffic area in the summer and the bag is so near the ground.

Does anyone know what bird or critter would build such a nest?

Beautiful Rhubarb

   

     It's been over a month since I've written a word beyond FaceBook comments.  I admit I succumbed to a favourite past-time, reading, in between energetic bouts of gardening.  A site called bookbub.com has aided and abetted this inclination by offering, on a daily basis, free or very inexpensive e-books and I have been taking advantage. The driest spring and early summer I can remember has added additional work to my gardening, necessitating watering, something we, in the past, rarely had to do. This year, had we not watered, much of our garden would still reside as non-germinated seeds in the ground.  Our well is not sufficient to accomplish this task, but we have a wee lake (pond, slough, beaver dam, water hole) on our farm so we drop in a pump and move a sprinkler wherever it's needed - mainly the vegetable garden. The berry garden has deep roots, and the lawn, well we watered it some but it's suffering. Crops in the area look poor. The canola fields especially are very spotty, many farmers are already calculating severe losses. Hay crops are doing better, perfect weather for haying, but yields are far less than usual. Cereal crops, not dependant on the length of the stem, have a better chance should the rain ever come. But there's one high yielder that seems to survive and thrive through almost any conditions thrown at it - rhubarb.

     Yes, rhubarb, beautiful rhubarb. I know a few people who actually like it so much they'll chew on a stalk, but I'm of the variety that requires additional sweetness to enjoy this prolific plant's bounty.  I have recipes galore for rhubarb based goodies - cakes, crisps, jams, preserves, wine - but my favourite is juice, and that's how I make the greatest use of the two plants I have in my berry garden. I pick, chop, wash, steam out the juice, add sugar (1 cup per litre) and heat, put in clean jars and process in a pressure canner for 5 minutes at 5 pounds.  The result is a concentrate to which I add water to taste when I pull a jar out of the cellar as the seasons roll by. Then, just in time, when the juice is gone, the rhubarb plant emerges from the ground, an early harbinger of spring, and grows so fast I'm always surprised it's ready to use once again.

The Gathering of the Clans

Rangeton Park Farmers' Day Festival

The Gathering of the Clans

 (What Music Festivals are all about!)

In days gone by we lived in tribes
Depended on our band.
We gathered food and followed herds
Living off the land.

But every year the elders stood
And said, "The time has come!"
Then o'er the land came rising sound,
The beating of the drums.

Then began a vast migration
O'er mountains, prairies, arid lands,
To the Valley of Three Rivers
For the gathering of the clans.

They made their camps, prepared a feast,
Traded, bartered, shared some tales,
Met old friends, discovered lovers,
Danced to drumbeats 'til night paled.

Times have changed. We live in cities
Or country homes with fences 'round.
But deep within, ancestral memories
Stir a quest for tribal sounds.

So begins a vast migration
O'er mountains, prairies, arid lands,
To camp amidst the sounds of summer
At a gathering of the clans.

We make our camps, prepare a feast,
Trade and barter, share some tales
Meet old friends, discover lovers,
Dance to drumbeats 'til night pales.

Our present links us to our past,
We've not changed much after all
With chosen tribe and gathering place
We answer when the drumbeats call.

A Breath of Fresh Air

This bit of paper was part of the packing in a box coming from Lee Valley.

Good for them!!!

We need more companies and more people to care as they do.

Good Cops, Bad Cops

Shoot first and ask questions later, it almost seems like that's the pattern of 21st century policing. Oh, but that's in the States, isn't it? They're getting tons of negative media attention these days. Canadian police forces are much better - aren't they?  Hmmm. What about the man in the Vancouver airport who spoke no English and was acting in an agitated manner. Weren't there a sufficient number of police present to bring him down without resorting to the excessive use of tasers which resulted in his death? What of the returned soldier with PTSD who was shot when he approached police carrying, not wielding, a hatchet (he had been chopping wood)?  What about the way college students, protesting tuition hikes, were treated in Quebec? What about racial profiling?

True, we hear fewer horror stories up here in the north, but our population is a great deal smaller as well.  There are probably fewer police/citizen confrontations due to less crime, less poverty, a different racial mix, fewer mass protests, and fewer mega-cities. That doesn't mean our police forces are never subject to violent out-of-control situations, or, when confronted with these situations, that they act completely differently than their US counterparts. Improper police actions may well be a result of fear, perhaps rightly so - fear for their own lives, possibly for the lives of bystanders. Policemen and women are, after all, not all ninjas, bodybuilders, sharpshooters and psychologists. They may not be as well trained as they should be. Or maybe it's like all us folks who take first aide courses at the workplace.  Good information, with no opportunity to practice, can easily be forgotten, and no one really knows how they will respond in a life threatening situation until they find themselves in one.

I have a theory founded only on my own observations, no facts, dates, references, just an idea of mine.  I think police brutality is linked to television.  I watch lots of Netflix, lots of police detective series, and I've noticed a vast difference between most of the series produced in the States and those produced in Britain and Canada. There's graphic violence, rampant killing, insane car chases, corruption, and seemingly unlimited police power on the American shows. There's smart, socially minded neighborhood cops with billy clubs, no guns, on the British shows. And then there's helpful, respectful Canadian police forces portrayed on CBC sponsored shows.

Violence has become embedded in our television and movies. We are not spared one single gruesome detail. We routinely watch violent criminals beat the living hell out of their competition and traitors among their ranks. We watch equally violent police forces beat the hell out of suspected criminals to obtain information or while arresting them. We watch insane car chases leaving absolute mayhem in their wake and never think about the destruction of property or resultant death and/or maiming of those unfortunate folks who happen to get in the way. We watch assassins, police brutality, murder, gang killings, war crimes - all in high definition so we won't miss a single detail.  If this violence was a normal part of our daily lives we'd freak out, but on the screen we seem to be immune to it all. That doesn't mean it has no effect on our subconscious mind. Maybe Canadians are watching too much American TV! Does TV reflect society or form it? Like they say, what comes first, the chicken or the egg?

Are police forces being influenced by the attitudes and methods on TV?  Do they want to be the all powerful "good guys" wielding unlimited resources to catch the low life "scum bags". Are they recruiting people with control issues into their ranks? Continuous media bombardment is teaching the public to accept police brutality as normal. But we need to realize that the "good cops" are still out there.

TV is make believe. The amazing feats of the crime scene investigators, the DNA tests, the nearly magical conclusions drawn from little bits of fibre, hair, blood spatter - this all makes for good TV but in reality resources like that are very costly, slow to access, and likely limited to major cases. Policing is mostly routine. It's the non-routine exceptions that rise to become sensational news. The Canadian public and the police need to rekindle and re-earn that respect we once had for one another. If we are stopped on the highway for, let's say, a taillight out, we should expect to be greeted by a polite, respectful police officer - not someone with a "bad ass" attitude or a chip on his shoulder. And we in turn should treat our police with respect. It's a hard job, sometimes dangerous, sometimes boring, sometimes rewarding, sometimes not so much. It may be an outdated and naive idea, but wouldn't it be nice if we could bring back that kind, helpful policeman we learned about when we were kids? You know, the ones teachers taught us about in that social studies unit on community helpers...







 

Gliding Along on the Mainstream

     News, by definition, is information, facts or details reported in the media about something that has happened or will soon happen. In the best of all possible worlds news broadcasters would bring us all sides of the story, but this is rare.  Biased information, which assumes agreement or attempts to sway the viewer's opinion to match the opinion of the broadcaster (its management and/or sponsors) is pretty much the norm.  Reported events may be true, partially true, misleading or even false. It's quite possible to watch the news every night and still remain uninformed.  (If you've been reading my blog you know this is not the first time I've ranted on this subject - see "A Twist on Words", February 12, 2015.)

     The closer to home the news is, the more accurate it is likely to be.  Happenings in the city the news is broadcast from and in the regions the station serves are easily verifiable and bias is somewhat easy to recognize. Provincial news may show more bias but again a thinking person can often see through it.  Move into the national politics and things get fuzzier. Our majority government has way more control than I'd like to see, a bottomless purse to spread its views to the public it "serves", and to campaign for re-election in the guise of taxpayer funded "public service" ads. Head out of the nation to international news...well here's where bias is rampant, probably on nearly every news source you could possibly access.

     On Canadian TV there are some in-depth investigative programs but people are busy. If they take the time to watch the news at all, an hour a night is about all the time they are willing or able to spare.   It takes time and caring to search out other news sources in order to obtain a broader view. Canadian TV news should get a medal though, compared to the TV news programs in the U.S. The USA, in my opinion, has become so insular that they barely realize the rest of the world exists, and, when they do take note what comes out is slanted (censored?) to such a high degree that they are still basically uninformed.  US policy makers appear to pick their enemies for monetary rather than ideological reasons.  Their economy is based on war and would suffer greatly should they begin to pull their ever expanding web of troops, war machines, weapons, drones, advisors, and covert agencies out of the many, many countries where they now exert their influence.  But their citizens have enough problems at home, no time or energy to worry about the involvement of their country elsewhere. (U.S. blog readers feel free to chime in here.)

     But wait!  Our national Conservative government is in lock-step with the U.S.! Their enemies are our enemies; their international policies are reflected in ours. Canada was once a neutral nation. We sent peacekeepers overseas, not soldiers.  We maintained our right to a viewpoint independent of our stronger neighbor.  What happened?  The Conservative majority government happened.

     Nearly the entire middle-east is at war. There's Shia versus Sunni conflicts (the historic background of the Sunni–Shia split lies in the schism that occurred when the Islamic prophet Muhammad died in the year 632AD.- see Wikipedia). ISIS is gobbling territory and killing unbelievers. People in any country are labelled as "infidels" and become subject to terrorist attack.  We seem to be reinventing the Cold War with Russia. The U.S. has finally changed its view on Cuba but has now hung the terrorist tag onto Venezuela.  A continuing positive relationship with Israel is becoming more and more difficult due to their conflict with the Palestinians.  And so on...  It is often very difficult to figure out who is right and who is wrong, and sometimes there is merit on both sides. Is it necessary for Canada to choose sides?  War crimes or genocides committed by any nation or faction within a nation should not be ignored, but is it our right to unilaterally police the world? Aren't there non-military humanitarian actions Canada could partake in that would maintain our neutrality?

     Citizens of "democratic" countries should not assume that they are entitled to a free ride.  Before we blithely agree with the actions of our government, either actively or by apathy, we should make an attempt to be informed. While your attention glides along the mainstream laws can be passed right under your nose, and you will wonder how in the world they came about.  The recent law passed in Indiana underscores how "fringe groups can mobilize resources, dominate the debate and help pass draconian and discriminatory laws in democratic countries."  (Rafia Zakaria, April 2, 2015, Al Jazeera America, @rafiazakaria)

     Your evening news is not enough, it's only part of the picture. There is an internet site called livestation.com (stations like Al Jazeera, BBC, RT America, CCTV-China, etc.) where you can access a broad scope of TV news media presented in English (some at a small charge and some free) that will at the very least present another viewpoint of events outside (and sometimes inside) of Canada as seen by people from other parts of the world.  Yes, they too probably have a bias, but hearing another viewpoint will broaden your mind and help you to realize that not everyone sees things the way we do.  We are not always right.  No one is.  You can also get numerous news sites, TV and newspapers, streaming through your FaceBook account simply by going to their web page and "liking" them or you can get news delivered to your e-mail box. If you want a broader view it may be better to divide your news watching time between mainstream news and the internet.  Then try hard to eliminate your own bias (you know you're not free of bias don't you?) and obvious quackery while forming your opinions.  It's better to be part of an educated electorate (VOTE!) than to blindly glide along assuming all is well and good with your government.

Memory Lane

This short story is a piece of fiction I wrote many years ago, no real people, no real situations. MLT

     We'd missed Lester's birthday party.  His son and daughter-in-law had invited the whole community to join in a potluck supper at the hall on a Saturday evening in April, celebrating his 85th year of life.  But for us April means only one thing - lambing.  Lambing morning, afternoon, evening, suppertime, midnight.  Just lambing.  A sort of intensive, focussed time of year.  So, when May came along and things settled down we piled into our old pick-up and steered our way to Lester's door.  His son Willie and Willie's wife, Fran, looked up and waved from their garden, looking a little puzzled as we rolled on by to Lester's tiny Grandpa house nestled in behind their trailer.

     "Well, hello!" said Lester.  "Come on in, come on in.  I was just watching a Blue Jay's game on TV.  They're losing," he said, "don't know who they're playing anyhow." He flicked the remote and the TV blinked off.  "Have a seat," he said, "make yourself comfortable."

     I sat down next to a shelf shared equally by dozens of family photographs and a thick layer of dust.  On my left was a tall glassed in china cabinet, also full to the brim with photos.  "Holy cow", I said, "you must have a pretty big family, Lester!"  My eyes fell on a sepia tinted photo of three young boys.  "Is one of the kids in this old picture you?"

     "Yep," he said, "that's me in the middle there.  This here fellow's my little brother James and the other one's my older brother Martin."  We then spent some time looking over the other photos, his whole family history stepping out of the frames.  "Gee, I'm sorry," he said, "but I can't seem to remember your names."

     "That's David and I'm Jennifer.  Morrison," I said.  "We live just up the way, on the old Johnson place.  We brought you a little birthday gift."

     "Well, thanks a lot," he said.  "I can't quite remember how old I am, more'n 80 I'd say.  My birthday's comin' up in just a few days I guess. I'm thinkin' Willie and Fran are gonna have a birthday party for me; you should come. Would you like some tea?"

     He moved into the kitchen and put on the kettle, started looking every which way for the tea.  "There's some instant coffee here on the table," I said.  "That'd be fine with me.  How about you, David?"  We all agreed that coffee would be just as good as tea.  I noticed an exercise bike in the corner and pointing to it I asked, "Do you ride on that thing?"

     "Used to," Lester said, "in the winter.  Not so much any more.  I walk a lot though... You know, I've forgotten your names again."

     "David and Jennifer Morrison," I said.  "We live just up the way about ten miles or so, on the old Johnson place right on the edge of the river.  You told us you used to ice skate there when you were a kid, years ago before we ever came to this country.  Lots of folks did. Cleaned the snow off the ice on the back eddy every winter, even had an old gramophone for music."

     "Oh, yeah, I remember now - you live on the old Johnson place.  We used to skate there every winter."

     Conversation rolled around to old times.  Lester had helped his father on the homestead, inherited it when his brothers moved off to Edmonton. He and his wife Naomi raised 5 kids on the farm. One by one the kids moved away, married, had kids of their own.  But the oldest son, William, had stayed on.  Together they worked the farm in partnership for many years.  Lester never really retired, just slowed down after Naomi passed till he finally came to a halt and handed over the reins. Winter's he worked at the local sawmills.  "You know," he said, "I remember my old friend Sten. He was a canter; I tailed the saw.  Sten always used to say, 'Life's a trial and a strain from beginning to the end, so tip your glass and say your prayers and NEVER cheat a friend!' "

     "Do you mean Sten Larson?" asked David.  "I remember him.  He was quite a colourful fellow.  I met him when we first came to this country.  I went around looking at all sorts of log structures before I started building my house.  He built some incredible log buildings, dovetail corners.  There's one old shed still standing just down river from us.  He was a fine log builder."

     The tea kettle set up a wail, Lester started looking for the tea pot and the tea once again.  I said, "Don't worry about the tea, Lester. We can just have some of this instant coffee here on the table; just as good."

     "Yeah, just as good," he said.  Lester got out some cups and a spoon, asked if we wanted milk and sugar, poured the water into each cup and sat down again.  We brought the conversation back to Sten Larson.  "Sten sure was a fine log builder," Lester mused.  "There's an old building of his still standing not far from here. Dovetail corners, he was a real craftsman; died some time back, about ten years ago, I think. Good friend, Sten was.  I remember he always used to say 'Life's a trial and a strain from beginning to the end, so tip your glass and say your prayers and NEVER cheat a friend!' "

     "Well, I think we'd better let Lester get back to his ball game," I said.  "I left a roast in the oven and I don't want it getting burnt to a crisp.  It sure was nice to visit with you Lester, you should stop in at our place some time."     

     "I'll do that,"he said.  "Where did you say you live?"