Heidi Greco's Blog, page 14

Gettin' ready...

I'm one of those people who take a long time getting ready to do things -- almost anything. And Christmas is one of those long-to-prep celebrations. 
First place to start is summertime, picking berries. That's when the jams that will be gifts start getting made. 
Probably all year long, I enjoy trolling second-hand stores. It seems I always find something or other that goes into my stash of potential gifts for Christmas time (though birthday gifts often arrive this way too). 
One of the most fun parts of my big preparations is the making of the cards. This is a tradition, probably ten years on now, where my friend and I sit across from each other at the table (piled with our crafty supplies) and create our one-of-a-kind greeting cards. 
Yes, they've all been mailed by now. I can only hope they've all arrived at their destinations. 
From here, it's just a matter of continuing with the baking and other cooking (Swedish meatballs tonight, Cornish hens tomorrow). 
Whatever you do to celebrate, however you prepare for the day, I send my best wishes for a way to spend time with people you care about -- and yes, before too many more days go by -- some time to sit back and do nothing. 

Hummin' along

Somehow I doubt our little bird is humming 'White Christmas' though if that were the case, he'd be pretty close to being on time. We had a dusting of the snow today and even grumpy me had to admit that it looks quite pretty. 

I'm not sure how something as small as a hummingbird gets by when it's below freezing outdoors. It's clear that fluffing out their feathers must do something -- their own little 'puffy coats' I guess. 

This one (and pals) get a bit of a boost, as the feeder itself is now resting (as it did during last winter's coldest spell) over top of the lava light base. A small tin pie pan keeps the sugared water from getting too hot, but the perch must still be a little bit warm, as the bird will come and sit there for quite a long while.

But now that night has fallen, I guess the little birds are back up in the cedars, going into the temporary 'hibernation' they apparently do when the weather's this harsh. 

Sweet dreams, little hummers.  

All human beings are...

...born free and equal in dignity and rights.

Today is International Human Rights Day, a day commemorating the date the United Nations adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Although that took place over 70 years ago in 1948, not every human is as free as terms of the proclamation hoped. I love the fact that one of my heroines (and friend of Amelia Earhart), Eleanor Roosevelt, headed the committee in charge of creating the declaration. 

The photo I selected for today is of a friend who is a great inspiration to me -- for her simple lifestyle, her love of nature, and her acceptance of everyone. It's a true bonus that a rainbow, long a symbol of both hope and peace, as well as its contemporary meaning of acceptance of sexual diversity, managed to appear in this shot of her beautiful hand. 

Oooops!

It's been a while since I posted anything, but this time I had a good reason -- or it sure felt like a good reason: I was away on a long-awaited holiday, an extended time for lazy relaxing, seaside in Mexico.

It was two weeks by the beach, with perfect weather every day. The breakfasts were amazing, with mounds of fresh fruit every day. Today, when I went shopping at my local produce store, the papayas (which I ate every morning during our vacation) clocked in at eight dollars a pound. Needless to say, I walked on by and settled for less expensive toppings for my morning yogourt. 

Lunches and dinners were every bit as fantastic, with such a range of flavours and ingredients, there was no getting bored. I even lucked out, finding two of my favourites: rellenos and tamales now and then. 

People were friendly, and very patient with my dreadful grasp of Spanish. As for the above situation at the pool, it had been a matter of striking up a conversation with people who were attending a wedding. The men were all dressed in white shirts and when I asked permission to take a photo, they jumped up from where they'd been sitting poolside to pose. Only thing was that one of the fellows stood much too close to the edge. Last view of his falling into the deep end was his hand trying valiantly to keep his phone dry. He emerged, safe but soaked. All I could do was apologize...

The only less-than-perfect aspect of the time there was the LOUD music provided by the local banda musicians. These groups wandered along the beach, stopping to play as often as invited (with 'donations' from would-be listeners). I'll admit that I wasn't one of the generous types who contributed to their cause. I guess it's something you need to be used to...either that or be deaf enough that the high-volume of the brass instruments (trumpets and tuba) doesn't bother you, and also that the thumping bass drum doesn't shake you to your core. Pretty intense on the decibel level, especially at 2 am. 

If nothing else, memories of the bandas make me appreciate the quiet of being home, where 2 am might only be disturbed by the sound of my own snoring. 

Leafy

 

Today's date November 18th, but back in 2008, marks the day that my sisters and I said goodbye to our mother. Like today, the weather was a beautiful sporting all the best of autumn's colours, and even its scents. 
Walking through leaves seems like a good way to remember -- not only with the act of putting one foot in front of the other, but also admiring the many different leaves and tints as they stir the variety of experiences over a life. 
I think our mother would be glad that we remember her, even if in somewhat odd ways. All any of us can hope, I suppose, is that we will leave our own leafy (or other kind) imprints behind. 

Lest we forget

Remembrance Day. A day for remembering so many important events and people. I love it that even the transit buses bear signs reminding us of the importance of this date. 

The radio has been full of amazing stories of remembering. If you have 15 or so minutes to spare, I'd recommend listening to Matt Galloway's sensitive , this year's Silver Cross Mother who will lay a wreath at the War Memorial in Ottawa. 

One of the people I always remember this day is Kurt Vonnegut. Because today would have been his 100th birthday, it seemed like a good time to interview him again, something he once told me would happen again, so I guess, here we go: 

Interviewer: Well, I suppose the first thing I need to say besides hello again would have to be Happy Birthday. How does it feel to be turning one hundred?

Kurt Vonnegut: What an interesting reminder. Birthdays aren't really of any importance anymore. You must have forgotten how meaningless time is here. Calendars, dates, and whoa -- leap year (what a concept) -- those things are meaningless here. Though thinking of calendars, I recall some lovely scenic images that appeared on those. 

Int: But really, Mr Vonnegut, don't you have any thoughts about having a life that now would have spanned a century?

KV: A century, a minute, a year. It's all the same. When you get here, you'll understand that. As for what it might have been like to turn 100 on earth, I suppose I would have been given a medal or something equally useless to commemorate hanging around that long. And no doubt, the aches and pains I was already learning about would have only been worse. Really, I think I managed to check out at just about the right time. 

Int: Do you ever wish that you could come back?

KV: Not a chance!!

Int: Well, that was a speedy response. Can you comment further?

KV: They've already invited me to go back. There's a whole coterie of folks who think they might do better if they went back. 

Int: Really? Who are some of those we might be looking for again?

KV: You probably won't recognize them, as they won't get the same body, but plenty of folks seem eager enough to go back they'll hang around at the transit stations like puppy dogs hoping for adoption. Some of them whose names you might recognize are Diana Spencer, Adolf Hitler, Jim Morrison -- and oh yes, Marilyn Monroe and John Kennedy. 

Int: That's quite a list. And really, Hitler??

KV: Oh, you don't have to worry. He's been banned from ever going back. He's actually kind of pathetic, as he can't even paint any more, but tries sketching portraits outside whichever station he's decided to haunt. 

Int: And those others you mentioned? 

KV: Well, the Kennedy-Monroe request is especially tricky, as they want to go back so they can be together, but the only way that works is if they go back as twins, and that's not really what they're hoping for. As for Diana, even princesses don't get everything they want, though I thought that was one of the lessons she'd already learned. 

Int: What about you? When are you coming back?

KV: They've invited me -- more than once. But I keep turning them down. I mean really, there's hardly a continent that doesn't have some kind of war going on. Besides, the planet is basically melting. 

Int: Gosh, you're depressing me. Why do you do that?

KV: That's not my intention, dear. I'm only doing what I always did -- trying to make you think. 

Sadly, at that, he disappeared, back into wherever/whatever it is where he now dwells. Maybe next year, 101, we'll see. 

Anybody home?

At the rate high-rises keep mushrooming in the nearby area, I shouldn't have been surprised to see the same thing happening to the birds. High-rise heaven or not, crowded conditions seem to prevail. 

But thinking about birds today, my thoughts turn to Twitter, a platform I suspect I may soon need to abandon. 
I'm feeling disgusted over all that seems to be happening since Elon Musk took over as owner (in itself almost inconceivable that anyone could have that much money to throw around). I'll admit that for quite a while I thought of him as someone who might make a positive difference to those of us who still live on earth (who don't have the funds to take off to one of his proposed off-Earth resorts). But oh, I was sooo wrong. 
He's now in the process of seeing to it that half of the employees at Twitter get their marching papers, via the impersonal process of email no less. Do you suppose they'll all be given severance packages? Somehow I doubt that. 
It's ugly for someone as wealthy as he is to appear to have so little respect or care for his fellow human beings. Despite the colleagues of mine who've served as a kind of lifeline to me during these times of isolation, the Twitterverse no longer seems like a space I can morally continue to inhabit. 
There used to be a saying, that something was 'for the birds' meaning that a thing was worthless. Despite its apparent 'market value' I'm thinking now that Twitter has just become something that the phrase 'for the birds' is altogether too good for. 

Boo...

This Halloween it's not just boo, but boo-hoo. 

Hardly any tricksters this year, just over a dozen. 

About all I can think to do with the remainders is give them to the Food Bank. And considering my own good fortune, I'll have to accompany those little juice boxes, goldfish crackers and chips with a cheque. 

Too much beauty?

Is such a thing even possible?

I've been looking at photos from my recent visit to Ontario, and it's nearly been nearly impossible to choose an image to use here. Sooo much gorgeous scenery, magnified by being there during the most colourful season. 

The idea of beauty and what it constitutes -- how does one define it? I think of the old chestnut, "I don't know much about art, but I know what I like." Even without knowing formal rules or schools of art, each of us knows what stirs our heart. 

And heart-wise, mine was broken a bit this morning by a few words I heard in an interview. The person said that art is no longer an offering in US high schools, as school boards have deemed such classes as too expensive. 

Speaking for myself (and many other of my peers in oddity, I am sure), I would not have been able to endure high school if it hadn't been for the acceptance of my art teacher and the mental (and probably spiritual) break that class provided. The companionship of other oddballs meant a lot too. 

So today's blog offers two small samples of things I find beautiful -- the brilliant colours of the changing leaves, and the gathering of birds as they prepare for the long trip to southern climes. To me, breathtaking. I can only hope that you also enjoy the beauty of these kinds of 'natural' art. 

Still parched

It's been too long since the last decent rainfall. One result, besides the brown lawns up and down our street, is the way the smoke-filled skies aren't clearing. 

This morning looked like heavy fog, only it wasn't fog. Everything was still shrouded in smoke, mostly from fires in Washington and Oregon states, our neighbours to the south. Air quality warnings remain in effect. 

Clearly the autumn crocuses are feeling the effects of no rain, and probably from the smoke as well. 

At least there's a bit of rain in the forecast. I can only hope the weather predictions are right, as everything could really use a drink of water.