And you're not invited...........

He sent one of those annoying "undisclosed recipients" e-mails, which I hate in the first place.  I mean, you don't know in whose company you are?  Is it three people or three hundred?  To top it off, it was a Christmas we-did-this-and-we-went-there-and-we-ate-that-and-we-drank-that boring missives.

Like anyone cares?  It was a missal about his Christmas Eve dinner, to which none of the "undisclosed recipients" had been invited.  He waxed on about what he and his girlfriend ate, what they drank -- a ton-- what they did, where they did it, how long the feast took to prepare...and on and on it went for.....paragraphs.  Hey, did he think the rest of us were having peanut butter sandwiches for Christmas dinner?!

Two people consumed 17 "important" wines from his "cave".  Alcohol poisoning anyone?  Seriously.

I am not a wine snob.  I drink respectable plonk, but plonk it is.  I buy the local fare and if I purchase a case I get one bottle free.  Yay.  I think I pay about $6 each.  One friend, who isn't a wine snob and who hadn't seen the bottle when I took it out of the fridge, raved about it over lunch the other day.  And believe me, she could afford $1,000 per bottle -- at a minimum.   

I hope the former boss, of whom I write and who now lives "abroad", takes me off his "undisclosed" list so I won't have to digest his ridiculous ramblings about "amuse bouche", et al.

Thank G-d I am retired.  No one has power over me and I now get paid to stay home. 

As I enjoy a bottle of "plonk" in my nightgown at home, I wish all my readers a Happy New Year! 



    

Beyond me

"Well, after my mother died, my Dad got involved with another woman and married her.  We didn't get along (read: I aggressively decided not to get along with her), so now my Dad and I don't speak."  These sentiments were spoken at the pool this morning by a woman I swim with, a woman I thought had a few brains.

Guess she doesn't. 

She has three young children who -- thanks to her selfishness -- will not know their alive-and-well grandfather.  How dumb is that. Why does she think she has the right to "not get along" with her stepmother, thus depriving her children of a relationship with their grandfather? 

As an adoptee, I actively sought out my birth relatives because that's what adoptees do.  Nothing is more important to us than our genetic background.  Where did I get my fingernail shape from?  Where did I get my curly hair?  How long did my mother live?  How did she die?  Why is my middle toe longer than my big toe?  (The latter I like, by the way.) 

But so many natural offspring don't even talk to their siblings and parents.  I can't understand that -- unless, of course, there was rampant abuse of some kind.  At a funeral a few years ago, I remarked that I hadn't even known "R" had a brother?  And where did he live?  In the same town she did!  "You have a brother here and you don't talk to him?" I said.  I was incredulous. 

Some people don't know how lucky they are.  Get over yourselves.    

That tops it

Apparently the Christmas pageant in Houston, where two grandchildren reside, features three languages:  English, Spanish and.....wait for it.....Ebonics. 

Yep, they do the pageant in Ebonics, the black "language" of America.  As a writer, English fanatic and grammarian, I really have no idea why the US has recognized Ebonics as some sort of official language?  Bizarre in the extreme?!  But at least they still have Christmas pageants in the odd school here and there.

Here in Calgary, unless it's a Catholic school, Christmas has poofed.  Sad.  What I don't get is that it's actually....wait for it again.....Christmas!  December 25th is still Christmas Day, regardless of whether or not some sect or other does not recognize it.  Just because one is not a Christian does not mean Christmas is cancelled.  Just because one is of some other faith does not mean December 25th is not Christmas Day.  It is.  Newspapers here are filled with coverage of Hanukkah and Eid, but Christmas is somehow verboten.  Christmas has been hijacked and we wimpy Canadians have allowed it.   

It's outrageous.  "Happy Holidays" has supplanted Christmas.  That's good, old political correctness in Canada for you.  Even the traditional Santa Claus parade has not happened in Calgary for the past three years, since -- sorry to say -- our Muslim mayor took over.  There is always some excuse -- construction, traffic, you name it -- but it's complete BS.

Join me in encouraging Christmas, please.  Can we not have our holiday?

He missed one

I'd put Shelagh Rogers at the top of any list of the top 10 most irritating people of the year.  Or how about "ever".  Globe and Mail columnist, John Doyle, ran his annual catalogue of his most annoying people this morning, but he definitely missed the hyper-irritatingly annoying Ms. Rogers, whose speech affectations rank with the best-of-the-best in phony mid-Atlantic accents.  Even the spelling of her name is an affectation.  But here are Doyle's choices:

1.  Ezra Levant....."his supremacy in irritating-ness is unmatched".
2.  Pastor Mansbridge...."inept and hugely irritating".
3.  The people behind Tim Hortons commercials....."the worst kind of Canadian cant".
4.  The people behind 'A message from the Government of Canada'...."irritating to think we are taken for fools".
5.  The people who are top CBC management...."the buck-passing and self-aggrandizing hand-wringing was an outrage".
6.  George Stroumboulopoulos.  This needs no explanation whatsoever. 
7.  Pierre Pollievre.  Neither does this. 
8.  Amanda Lang (she made it last year too) and Rudyard Griffiths on 'The Exchange'...."the bland, mindless, unfocussed chats are nonsensical and utterly bogus".
9.  Our Glorious Leader (OGL)...."announced himself to be in 'a different headspace' in a year-end interview.  We knew that".
10.  Me.  Doyle added himself, as apparently every year people rave at who he included and who he didn't. 

His immortals include Don Cherry and Kevin O'Leary, now in Doyle's Hall of Fame.  Shelagh needs to be added.  All good stuff as 2014 rolls away. 

The Late

"Tackaberry" is a rather unusual name, so when I saw the obituary, I opened it.  Having lived in Ottawa forever, I continue to scan the obits.  And there it was.  "Mother of......and the late Anthea..." 

Whoa!  I went to Lisgar Collegiate with Anthea Tackaberry and knew her well.  And she's dead?  It just floors me when someone of my age-and-stage dies.  The fascinating thing about Anthea was that her family were Christian Scientists -- a sect of which I still have no clue, but which continues to be mysterious and secretive.  At the time, it almost seemed heretical.  (Remind me to google it.) 

Christmas is a time when we remember loved ones who have died.  Reading the obits these days I see that people have "passed on", or "departed", or are "in the arms of The Lord".  Seems no one actually "dies".  I am eternally grateful to my dead mother, who started taking me to Hulse and Playfair when I was about five so I could stare into the coffins of the dead and understand that..."death is a part of life, dear"....as she put it.

This year, we have received significantly fewer Christmas cards, which is sad.  I love sitting down and writing them, with Christmas music playing in the background.  And just a note to those who send tacky internet ones:  Take me off your lists.  I find it quite insulting that people who claim to be friends send a mass mailing.  Please.   

A very dear friend of many years is now in palliative care and it pains me to contemplate his passing.             

Only four

A coroner has only four ways to classify a death:  homicide, suicide, accidental or unknown causes.  That's why Brian Sinclair's death was classified as a homicide because there wasn't another category for the coroner to choose.  Sinclair was the native man who died awaiting treatment in a Winnipeg emergency room, a tragedy.  The inquest called it a case of "emotional fatigue", or some such other weird thing. 

The problem was, Sinclair was an addict and habitual user of emergency services, so I guess staff just got tired of, and ultimately ignored, him.  Predictably, his family is outraged.  Why?  I have no clue?  His misery was self-inflicted, the case with all of us.  Another sad story is that of Ashley Smith, the young woman who committed suicide while in segregated custody.  Bizarrely, the coroner called it homicide, even though she committed suicide?!

The families of Tina Fontaine and Rinelle Harper are also calling for national inquiries into why their daughters were attacked.  Fontaine died; Harper lived.  But both chose very risky lifestyles which put each in grave danger.  Are we to have a national inquiry every time a native dies?  If the Assembly of First Nations has its way, yes.  We all know what the problem is.

Please. 

Tidly

"She would be a tad tidly by the middle of the flight, but always the lady," said my luncheon companion today.  He had been an Air Canada steward..."in the good old days"....for more than 30 years and had served on seven Royal flights.  This one concerned the Queen Mother.  "There were always only two in first-class, Her Majesty and her lady-in-waiting, who happened to be Princess Diana's grandmother, Countess Elinor Beatrix Lady Spencer. "And there were always two of us to serve them," he added.  

Man, this charmer had tales of the rich-and-famous up the ying-yang.  He had a few unmentionables about some wives of PMs, which unfortunately will remain untold.  We were at a lunch at The Ranchmen's Club, hosted by two of the most generous people you could ever know.  Every Christmas "M" and "P" host the volunteers who work at their sprawling ranch in Bragg Creek for under-privileged children.  Why I was invited, I have no idea, but I was thrilled to have been.

"I wait all year for the scalloped potatoes," said a woman ahead of me in the buffet line.  The board was groaning with shrimp, lobster, turkey, dressing, roast beef, fish, salads of all kinds, scalloped potatoes and a line of fruit and desserts that stretched forever...and....on.....and....on.  The Ranchmens's Club boasts one of the most celebrated chefs in the country.

As the lunch ended, there was a draw for each centrepiece.  Guess who won ours?  Moi.  It was fixed by "M", but I was thrilled.

This is what I "won".  Gorgeous. 



Yep, there are some very cool people in Calgary.            

Never been a fan...

...of those boring and tedious Christmas letters people send.  It was bad enough when we received paper versions.  At least the egomaniacal senders had paid for a stamp.  Now the cheapskates send the drivel in an email.  Like, who cares?!  I was often tempted to send one back -- when we had the dog -- telling them how many "calling cards" I had picked up on the back deck, how many laundries I had done, how many toilets I had cleaned......you get the picture.

We all have lives and none of us is really interested in.....whatever.  Especially from people one rarely sees.  One of the worst offenders was a woman who always sent a two-pager, filled with name-dropping and boring, boring.....but who never mentioned the times we had been forced to host them (thanks to B's history with the husband).  I mean, we had them to the golf club in Ottawa, The Ranchmen's Club here in Calgary, The Gatineau Fish and Game Club and yet these events were never mentioned in her pompous letter. 

Please.

Buy a few cards, a coupla' stamps and send a friggin' actual physical Christmas card. 

Deep Do-Do

With the election of Perry Bellegarde as national chief of the Assembly of First Nations we are in deeper do-do than ever.  His platform is to be less concilliatory with Ottawa, adding unhelpfully that, "Canada is Indian land." 

I knew it would come to this.  I mean, why not?  Indians can claim the entire country because they were here first  - not that they originated here, they migrated when there was a land bridge between the north and Asia.  So, we're all "from away", as Newfoundlanders say.  But the natives did nothing with the land they inhabited before later immigrants arrived, namely the rest of us.  Nevertheless, they claim it is "their" land.  Bellegarde also wants a national inquiry into missing and murdered aboriginal women.  That's top of his agenda.  Hey, we all know what has happened to most missing and aboriginal women.  Tragic nonetheless, the majority have been done in by their own kith and kin.  An inquiry will uncover nothing new and I am glad Harper is refusing to hold one. 

The spectacle of Rinelle Harper, the teen who went along with two aboriginal strangers in the middle of the night and was nearly beaten to death, being trotted out for the cameras was absolutely shameful.  Sadly, she and her family have no idea how breathtakingly they are being exploited.  And the media?  Absolutely no courage to tell the whole sad story.  (see my blog, "It has to be said", November 14) 

"We will no longer accept poverty and homelessness while resource companies and governments grow fat off our land," stated Bellegarde.  Hey, it's not money that keeps natives poor -- they are given lots of that -- it's their own leaders who don't pass it on.  And pipelines?  Forget about it.  He claims they'll fight every inch of the way.  Just listened to an interview and beneath all the "moving forward" and "sitting at the table" was the real underlying message:  no pipelines unless natives approve.  Without pipelines moving oil, Canada won't have the resources Bellegarde is so keen to get in on.  Protect the land and water?  Good luck doing that with rail transport. 

It's all pathetic.   

Heartening

"I'd wish you Merry Christmas, but....," I said to the hijab-wearing cashier.  I chicken-shittedly added the last part, against my better judgement.  "Oh no, please," she replied.  "It is Christmas and we're all human.  Afterall, there is only one God."

Well, that was a pleasant exchange.  Pushing on in my "Merry Christmas" crusade, I find everyone appreciates the greeting -- people at the Y, clerks, cashiers, a young man holding a door -- everyone.  I find this very heartening.  I mean, if it's "Happy Holidays", why don't we say that in July?  In December it's "Merry Christmas".   

Try to find "Fanciful Rinse" in Calgary and you're sh-t out of luck.  This is a product I used faithfully a few years ago, but stopped....for some reason?  It is for grey hair and takes the sheen out.  The problem here is with an average age of 37 in this town, there is no market for "grey" products.  I brought a bunch with me when we moved, but am getting low.

Time to go on-line and find the stuff.

 

    

Meanwhile, back at The Ranch(men's Club)

"They got rid of her, the new job went to her head and she was impossible," said one of the staff at The Ranchmen's Club today.  He was referring to another staff member, about whom I had inquired.  You know, I could have predicted that would have happened with "R", who was a tad imperious and complaining.  Apparently, they had promoted her over her peers and guess what?  That never works.   

But, it was great to be back at one of the most prestigious clubs in the world.  Today, I enjoyed the lobster salad, chatting with people I had not seen for more than a year.  Having been members for two, we weren't last year and I missed it.  Heck, I told B, I am not going to eat cat food so you can fly around the continent visiting...whomever.

The club goes all-out for Christmas.  Here are a couple of examples:

All the toys go to charity.  So Canadian.

Father Christmas. 





   

Dumb

A Chinook blew through here yesterday -- Calgary's answer to snow removal -- and I decided this was the perfect day to string the outside lights.  Rummaged through basement boxes and came up with them. 

Then the dummy in me took over.  I actually wrapped the front-yard tree in lights....without plugging them in first!  You know what befell me.  Yep, half of them didn't work.  Are we still in the stone age of lights, where if one blows they all die??!  So I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut them off the tree -- yes, I unplugged them first.  Was almost ready to schlep to 'Canadian Tire' for another set when I had a vague memory of more unused outdoor lights in some box.........somewhere.....in a black storage hole.  Back to the basement and presto, found them!  So, it's off to re-do yesterday's mess. 

After Mass today, went to an open house hosted every year by 'Ed William's Menswear', one of the few fine men's shops in this City-of-Jeans.  Always a classy affair, this year's was no different and I bought a couple of pressies for B.  It's lovely to see that men's socks are now both fashionable and arresting.  I mean, other than ties, what do men have that allows them to stand out??

It's a wine-and-goodies affair and the food is scrumptious.  Chatting with a man in the jacket department, I was gob-smacked when he pulled out a toothpick and started.........picking....his.......teeth!  While we were chatting!  And he seemed to think this was all perfectly fine.  Amazing! 

Welcome to Calgary, a city not far from the pasture. 

 

      

It's Merry Christmas....period.

"Merry Christmas, Santa," said a little girl at the mall yesterday.  "It's nice to hear children say that," I said to the mother, "since so many people and groups have high-jacked the feast."  "They don't give us the same courtesy do they," she rejoined. 

No, they don't. 

I say "Merry Christmas" to everyone -- clerks, cashiers, waiters...even strangers in parking lots.  I am making a stand and it's amazing how many respond enthusiastically.  "Same to you," said the shocked, elderly Walmart greeter as I left this afternoon.  Shoving my cart to my car in the snowy lot, I was relieved of it by a lovely young lady who was actually surprised when I said, "Merry Christmas."  Same to you, was also her happy response.   

Today went to daughter's home to help decorate their tree.  Hey, it's Christmas, not "Happy Holiday" time.  This feast is all about the birth of Jesus, but unfortunately it has been taken over by everyone and anyone, thanks to the acquiescence of politically-correct, chicken-s-it Christians.  I'm sick of it.

Those of us who miss Christmas need to speak up, not hide behind "Happy Holidays".             

Are there hundreds?!

It's ridiculous.  The airwaves are jammed with debate about accommodating gender-confused kids, even in elementary school!  Are you kidding me?!  Do these "experts" mean to tell me that kids in grade five don't know whether they are boys or girls?? 

We are now at the point where they advocate letting kids use whichever washroom they wish -- and no one can tell the parents!  What if a girl is just a tomboy, as I was?  Would I have decided to identify as a boy?!  (Sorry, this blog is going to contain a lot of "?!"s)  Would I have decided I was a lesbian because the gym teacher used to make me run with the boys because I was fast?!  These lunatics are even advocating allowing children to change their names and call themselves "boy" or "girl".   

The way the debates go, you'd think there were literally hundreds of LGBT (by the way, I hate that moniker) children in every school who need to be accommodated without their parents being informed.  It used to be OK to have boys' and girls' washrooms.  Now they want individual stalls so kids can do whatever they do in private.  It's just insane!  And speaking of insane, there is now a course at the University of Alberta on gender confusion!  Seriously! 

There must be better ways to spend tax dollars.  And the CBC needs to shut up.