James Ewart wrote: :: Patricia Verhelst > Regina Baby Momma's Group I am helping a friend out and asking everyone to help out! Could everyone, including you big kids, draw a simple picture of a rainbow and mail it to Patricia Verhelst Box 355, Radville, SK S0C 2G0 by next week and I will send them all in together. There is a little girl in Saskatoon who is sick who wishes to get a rainbow from everyone in the world...
This is in Canada...so that would have to be added on to the address..please and thank you. :)
When is the last time any one of us has received a hand written personal letter sent through the Post Office?
I am talking about a good three page letter written on all sides (and in the margins as my grandmother did) imparting antidotes of family activities and social events along with the opinions of the writer, sometimes with a political or moral judgment either blatantly or sublimely implied without fear of court action and 'without prejudice'.
There were days when 'friendly' letters written in pencil were accepted and expected in the "pre Bic" days of pens. Letters written with the traditional pen and ink were usually those of the 'business' type .
The envelope upon receipt would be just a little bit crinkled and worn from the long and arduous journey from its source...often having travelled a week or more from its origin to destination.
There were no Postal Codes. In fact, depending upon the recipient's character and length of stay in the community, one often only had to write the name of the town and province to assure correct delivery.
The letter would traditionally be written on white paper as would the envelope itself. No little extra stickers or cartoons would be placed on the envelope other than the stamp which would usually only be a reflection of the reining monarch's image.
There was quite a stir when my sister took a match and burned a little hole at one corner of the envelope and wrote "Hot news inside" at the end of a drawn arrow. Often post office workers would not deliver letters if they suspected anything other than paper was slipped into the envelope such as a small picture or magazine article.
Greeting cards were allowed to be delivered for a lower cost providing the card was unsealed.
Now, of course, we have email, texting, ecards, and social media. There is lots to be said of the instantaneous transmission of knowledge and consequent power that gives to society.
I do think , however, that society has also lost out on the the value that a handwritten letter signifies. A handwritten letter requires the writer to consciously set aside a moment of their day to actually think about the recipient (no mass emails) with regards to their interests and inclinations, or perhaps give a more direct answer to some previous query thus enhancing communication and ultimate understanding. More care in choosing the correct words (no text completion)as well as the time and concentration on actual letter formation and word spelling would help the whole process to be rewarding and appreciated.
I see a handwritten letter as a gift of time and thought from the sender. I see it as a moment in time that someone has taken out of their busy lives to actually sit down and have me in mind during the fifteen minutes or so to take pen in hand on chosen paper all the while actually concentrating on proper word choice and grammar, and then forming with care and flair their thoughts that they have chosen to share with me.
Yes some things have changed...and then again some haven't.
The annual fall migration of geese hasn't changed and hopefully never will.
One time offer: Write your address in the comments and I will send YOU a handwritten three page letter. I have paper and pen and stamps at the ready.
1. Why are we surprised even a little bit that a 22 year old woman married to a 69 year old man --a Canadian Senator no less--decides to drink too much and finally tells her husband of one year what she thinks of him. Yes it was unfortunate that she threatened to slit his throat while at the same time being aboard a commercial air flight over the Canadian Prairies. I do agree it was inappropriate and probably very upsetting to all who were present on the flight witnessing this domestic fiasco...but at the same time all I am stating is "Why is anyone surprised?"
2. The issue of William and Kate and her photographed bosom. Why are people so surprised re: the pictures of her mammery glands? Why do people have to look at 'her's'? Did they think she didn't have any? Were they supposed to be rare or different in any remarkable way in terms of number (an Anne Bolyn reference), colour (a tat or two?), form (square or triangular perhaps?). Or is it that society has not enough uncovered boobies to look at in many movies and/or television docudramas? And why, oh beautiful Kate, are you surprised that you were photographed at all? Do you think that you could actually bare all outside in broad daylight (no pun intended), in this day and age, without getting your upper torso focused on? It's hardly like you haven't had people take your picture before. I say put those things back in your room and close the curtains, and if they still get put on the National Post front page then you can sue.
3. Why are people so upset or surprised that the term Holiday Tree is going to be used? What is it about the water downed Christian mentality that believes that Christmas Trees and Santa Claus has anything remotely to do with the Virgin Birth of Jesus in a manger? I believe the Christians of the right wing fundamentalist ilk along with the Easter/Christmas funeral/wedding goers of the mainline churches are more likely the cause of the befouling of the traditional Christmas terminology applied to a tinselled and bejewelled, electronically lighted overgrown, domestically raised , chainsaw shaped, as well as sometimes plastic imitation of a coniferous tree supposedly brought down from the wild and natural woods that has been deemed the sacred symbol of Our Lord's Birth on Earth.
Christmas Trees have pagan roots. There is no where in the Christmas Story or indeed the Bible that states that Joseph along with that cute little drummer boy crawled up to the loft of the manger to drag down baubles, strung popcorn and candles to decorate an Olive Tree (no conifers were being imported at that time--plastic or recycled) to celebrate Jesus' birth. There weren't even any PRESENTS until the kings showed up ( about two years later) let alone any mention at all..ever..ever ...ever of some sort of magical elf that brought various items to symbolize love, value, and worth of the recipient ironically replacing the message of His being placed on Earth in the first place; and which would cause Joseph and generations of others ultimately to have to remortgage the ass (donkey) in order to pay for it all.
It is NOT our right as Christians to call it a Christmas tree...particularly when during the other 50 weeks of the year 80% of the Christians who celebrate Christmas neither read the Bible, go to church or live according to the teachings of Jesus in terms of loving kindness to neighbours at home or abroad.
Why hasn't this happened before this , this calling of a 'Christmas' Tree a 'Holiday' Tree you query? Is it because of all the non Christmas celebrating immigrants entering the Western World? Is it because of some immoral societal slide perpetrated by dark terrorists waiting to take over our faith and culture? I say neither of these are the reason, but rather it is because of the lackadaisical attitude and poor example of valued Christian living and forgiveness that neither fundamentalists or Easter/Christmas Christians have displayed. It is this outpouring of crocodile tears around the naming of something that is, in all likelihood, festooned with Made in Indonesia (by children) sparkled plastic, that makes people like Ben Stein and others rightly point out..."We Reap What We Sow".
No more camping for this year.
No more popcorn on the fire.
No more fish fried in butter.
No more marshmallows roasted.
No more fishing.
No more wood chopping.
No more beer drinking.
No more hooting of the owls, calling of the elk, honking of the geese.
No more watching for skunk or mink.
No more shimmering trees.
No more smoke in the eyes.
No more coyote howls.
No more Lesser Legs, Loons, or Grebes.
No more games of Dominoes under the stars.
No more reading by shoulder flashlight.
No more flies and mosquitos, hornets or bees.
What a beautiful September Friday afternoon. Hot and dry with just a slight breeze. Perfect weather for the farmers in the area, gardeners digging potatoes, and for students walking across campus lawns carrying books and thinking about their last class of the day as the first full week of lectures will have ended--unless they are of the same luck as I who had an 8 am Saturday morning AV (audio /visual) class for one whole semester.
I really miss those wonderful days of university with the beauty of the prairie with coloured leaves falling combined with the fly over and call of Canadian Geese flocking for their long flight south.
In fact, it has made me so homesick for those days that I have spent the afternoon perusing the University course on-line calendar, as well as exploring and comparing rates and meal plans of the on campus residences.
Imagining. Imagining what courses would be the the most interesting. Which would be the one that I would find the most intriguing--Astronomy? Psychology? or perhaps History? Would I still be able to sustain the required reading and discipline it would take to succeed, or would I tire of the novelty and regret the loss of freedom and money it would cost to reenter that hallowed ground of learning?
I imagine myself wandering the classroom buildings looking like someone's lost helicopter mother, or even an eccentric lecturer out of shape, out of mode, and foresure out of the younger set's realm of 'new' ideas. Would I be someone more to be talked 'through' rather than 'to'? Would the instructors be kinder? speak slower? give directions louder? if they saw me sitting peering at them through bifocals taking notes with actual pen and paper? ( A laptop still conjures a sleezy connotation in my mind).
It came to my attention during my calendar perusal that at the age of 65 one may attend and participate in bona fide-- for credit-- university classes for FREE!--no tuition fees to pay. These are the actual degree needed classes offered to the regular students--not some watered down home and garden variety that are aimed for the hobbyist-,the mildly interested or the simply curious, to be taken over three hour long sessions followed by coffee and snacks.
The leaves will still be crunched on campus sidewalks and the geese will still be flying and honking overhead five years from now, I suppose. Time will tell if I will be part of the crunching and the listening.
I've had a great afternoon dreaming of it all anyways.
Today is the first day of school. Mothers and teachers, students and bus drivers, and janitors are all going to partake of the ritual of excitement along with the determination to make this year the best.
Mothers thinking that they will take more time to make sure interesting and healthy lunches are packed , supplies bought and marked, and the budget for new clothes intact and used with care.
Teachers striving to choose the best practices in dealing with curriculum and behavior.
Students vowing to themselves to study more, make more friends, and make at least ONE team over the school year.
Bus drivers hoping to set the right mood for safety and happy times for their charges to and from their homes and places of education.
Janitors working hard to polish floors , dust classrooms, and clean windows all for the purpose of providing a healthy and clean environment for society's up and coming citizens.
In our house one of the things that somehow became a must became the annual 'after the 1st day of school tea' complete with china tea cups, personal tea pots, fancy teas, flowers on the table, snacks of sliced cheese, meat, and crackers, raw veggie plate along with cream filled doughnuts. Music was turned on the CD player.
The discussion would be about who got which teacher, class schedules, new kids in school, who had moved away and if there were any new kids on the bus.
As each of the four children graduated and left home there were fewer and fewer people around the tea table until at last there was only one left to catch that first day of school school bus. I had thought of perhaps asking someone over to fill a space at the table as it seemed that it would be rather a dull sad gathering with just the two of us trying to be gay and decadent in the silence of lonesomeness.
Someone else apparently had been thinking of that particular tea time as well, as one of the older siblings managed to make it home, unannounced, from her university class that day right on time for the very last of this household's First Day After School Tea Time.
Things you don't want to see or hear on a fishing/camping trip:
1. Guy with beer bottle and no life jacket climbing into a boat and roaring off to the other side of the lake.
2. A truck with 4 wheel drive (but not put into 4 wheel drive) stuck to its axles at boat launch.
3. A boat being paddled with a broken oar and broken motor.
4. A flipped boat floating amongst whitecaps across the lake in isolation--bereft of passenger (see #1)
5. A boater LEAVING the boat and swimming across the lake to shore. ( again see #1).
Things that are good to see on a fishing/camping trip: 1. Young man helping an elderly couple tow their boat to safety. (see #1 above).
2. A man and woman being profoundly nice, polite, and patient to each other (even chuckling) after getting truck stuck, having to paddle boat half way across the lake before being rescued, and locking their keys in the vehicle.We have pretty much assumed that they weren't married or otherwise related--probably just courting. 3. Wind and whitecaps on a lake can help you remember being 'Sea Side' in Great Britain.
4. Interesting to note that life jackets, fishing gear, cooler, gas and motor all survived the boat flipping and unescorted float to shore. (All were safely traveling with the boat tucked underneath--not one thing lost). 5. "Lost" and extremely stupid and fortunate boater was able to get to campsite unharmed in spite of 3 foot waves and strong winds. Hopefully he will tell the story to his grandchildren some day to explain why one should always a) wear a life jacket when boating, (b STAY with the boat in case of a mishap and probably the most important--not drink alcohol on a boat.
This is in Canada...so that would have to be added on to the address..please and thank you. :)
