A confectionary life

When we got the call from the club manager that there had been a cancellation for the very week Houston daughter and grands would be there, we were ecstatic!  Wow, how fabulous!  What a gift!  But daughter was not pleased.  She actually told us not to come! 

Really?! 

As I have blogged, we had gone there for a month every year for 25 years as a blended family with no baggage.  What does step-daughter do?  Invites her mother to contaminate the place while we were there.  The fishing trip was the first battle.  We had booked local guide Mario for $550 for the day, but "they're-my-children" S, objected and argued for a week about allowing them to go.  This was a privilege S wanted to deny her kids.  After finally agreeing, she then proceeded to take complete credit, giving us none. 

Complete bullsh-t.

As I have pointed out, they were allowed to be with us for one hour over seven days.  The disrespect was breathtaking.  I had bought each a "Swim Buddy" so they could swim with me in the lake and B had bought a puzzle for them to do on a sleepover.  I am sure her fb is full of bullsh-t, but this is the truth.  She denied her father access to his grandchildren.  A sin which will have consequences. 
Neither purchases even got out of the package.  My stepdaughter is now dead to me.  Her choice.  And by the way, ever seen a picture of her smoking and vaping on fb?  No.  She has indulged in this dirty habit for 25 years -- all through both pregnancies -- but you will never see that on her fb fake life.  Am I pissed off?!  You betcha!   

Her fb life is total BS.  Her marriage is a sham and her husband is referred to at the Club as "Mr. Snufulupogous(sp?) because he doesn't seem to exist?!  She never trots him out, preferring to "socialize" with other gentlemen.

The "Swim Buddies" not used.

The puzzle not opened.



     

Sort of made sense

"The natives used to kidnap white children all the time and raise them within their own tribes," said a woman I chat with in the Y locker room.  A Mormon, she seemed to have a lot of knowledge about such practices because, as we know, the Mormons collect genealogical data on everyone. 

We were talking about her husband, with whom I swim, who is preparing to go to Ireland to seek out his roots.  I told her that as an adoptee, I had done the "23 and Me" DNA tests and found my background fairly boring and predictable.  "English, Irish and a bit of Northern European," I explained.  But I also said I had expected a dash of native DNA in there because when I found my birth family, my great uncle told me that his grandmother had been raised on the Tyendinaga Reserve in Napanee.  "She spoke no English, smoked a pipe, had no teeth and when her husband died, she moved right back to the reserve to be with her people," he told me.  Right then and there, I thought I had native blood in me.  When the DNA came back, it was zero.     

Frankly, looking down at my blue-white skin when he told me, I was a little shocked.  However, he was very matter-of-fact about it and said everyone in the family always accepted this woman as a Mohawk native.  For a while, in the locker room, I started to think, "Oh, that's it!  My ancestors were kidnapped and raised as natives!  That explains everything."

Except it didn't.  Had my great-grandmother been raised as native, would she not have had an earlier generation that had co-mingled with the natives?  If so, she would have had some native blood in her.  Had she been the first white child kidnapped into that tribe?  If so, then yes, she would have been pure Caucasian and I would not have any native DNA, which I don't. 

So, the mystery remains.  Was she white and raised by natives?  If so, that would explain why my great-uncle told me she was native.  Maybe she was kidnapped as a young child in the late 1800's?  Why not?  So, I am technically a "white native". 

Wow!             

Chrystia "Gloria Steinem" Freeland

Well, Ms. Freeland has really done it this time.  She, with her ideological bullhorn about women's rights, has managed to get billions of dollars in trade with Saudi Arabia cancelled and in the process ruin the educations of 16,000 Saudis studying in Canada who have now been called back.  And let's not forget the fact that Ontario and Quebec get their oil from Saudi Arabia.  Gee, I wonder how objectionable and deplorable Energy East now will be?!

Way to go!  Just as she tied the NAFTA negotiations to women's rights, LGBT issues et al, and got herself thrown out of the room, so she has now done with The Kingdom.  What an idiot.  Canada can exert its own values within Canada, but it cannot do so for another sovereign state.  Canada does not set Saudi values and laws, the Saudis do -- just as that country cannot dictate its values and impose its laws here.  Rather than support the efforts of the Saudis in their recent breakthroughs of allowing women to vote and drive, she rams a hundred years of Canadian progress in women's rights down their throats in one tweet. 

And speaking of a few bedraggled "Canadian" values, why do we allow women to vote and take the citizenship oath in full burka?  Except for the "intelligencia" and the "enlightened", Canadians don't like it one bit.     

Having been at many ministerial briefings, I can just see Freeland at the table listening to no one but herself.  She is in capable of actual thought.  She is, in fact, a disgrace to her gender.  Instead of educating herself about global and world affairs by listening to the experienced heads within Foreign Affairs around the table, she rattles on about women's rights and shoves them in the faces of other "unenlightened" countries with other values.  Reminds me of the women I worked for as I got older and closer to retirement who thought they were smarter than I because they happened to be my manger.

Wrong.

Here are the two women Freeland's support for whom will cost the Canadian government $4 billion, $132 million of it right here in Alberta:

  Don't expect the Saudis to back down.  They won't.  Canada is effed.    

Counsellor to the lifeguards

Weirdly, that's what I appear to have become.  I can see them out of the corner of my eye as I approach the end of a length.  They are waiting to talk to me and if I don't do a kick turn and push off immediately, if I have to stop to have water or hit my goggles with anti-fog drops, I have to say hello. 

Today a young lady was waiting.  "Hi Nancy," she said.  "Hey sweetie, how is your summer going?" I replied.  Then it started.  This time, it was the wedding of a parent that was stressing her.  Apparently, her father is getting married to someone who has never had children and doesn't like his.  Oh.  "My sisters and I bought these lovely, formal outfits with shorts instead of skirts, but they're very wedding-appropriate," she told me.  So what's the problem?  She told me shorts were not appropriate for a wedding and doesn't want us to wear them, she announced.

Really.  "Are you in the wedding party?" I asked.  No, we're just guests.  Well, she can go eff herself, was my reaction.  "That's what I thought, but my Dad is going along with her," she replied.  "I gather your Dad is a doormat when it comes to this women."  Apparently, he is.  Bottom line on this dilemma was that I said she and her sisters absolutely had to wear the outfits they had already bought.  "She doesn't like you anyway, so it won't get worse," I observed.  "I want to see pictures of the wedding and you better be wearing those outfits," I concluded.

One thing I did caution her about was getting along down the road with the new stepmother.  "Just remember, your father will always side with her, so adapt."  She then told me that after her Dad had invited them to go skiing in Kelowna this past winter and they had actually bought their tickets, this b-tch uninvited them!  Standing in the water with my mouth agape, I asked her what she and her sisters did?  "We went anyway and skied on our own.  Good for you!

On another note, she told me how excited she was to be going to Montreal in September with a girlfriend.  "I've never been to Quebec or Montreal," she gushed.  Having been there hundreds of times over my life, I stepped in with a little fashion advice.  "One thing you have to do is lose those too-long, too-thick, fake eyelashes," I chanced.  "Really?  I get them done like this because they last longer and they're expensive," she explained.  "Forget that.  You can't go to Montreal looking like a clown with those obviously-fake lashes.  Montreal women have a certain style and those will not cut it," I said.  "You'll be marked as a Calgarian in seconds."  Oh!  Next time she has them done, she said she would get them cut back.   

Man, some days it's a wonder I get any laps in at all!  But having had two, two step and a b-tch for an ex, I do have a few clues on how to navigate the waters of blended families.  I also have a few tricks about looking your best, having been at the chore for a few years.  Hope I'm still around to give my granddaughter the same, blunt advice because her mother would never take one ounce from me. 

We'll see! 

What's in a name?

A lot.  Especially if you're name is something like mine, i.e., hyphenated and unique.  Google "Marley-Clarke" and you will find only three legitimate current varities:  B, his son and me (via marriage).  Everyone else who comes up is a hanger-on, a used-to-be or a wanna-be.

B, whose birth name it is, finds it quite offensive that third and fourth cousins have globbed onto it in spite of the fact they have other legal and legitimate names.  Problem is, some of them don't like their foreign-sounding name and so have gone with the elegant moniker of "Marley-Clarke".  Frankly, were I their father, a man very proud of his Eastern European heritage, I would not be pleased.  Strangely, he doesn't object, but the only male offspring entitled to the name strenuously does.  "Why are they besmirching our name?" he once said.  Because it's a classy name, I replied. 

The cousins who have divorced have gone back to their maiden names.  Fair enough, I guess -- unless they re-marry in which case they should take on the new husband's.  Or unless they're jerks and an embarrassment to the heritage.  (We all know who she is.)  However, the two of whom I speak are unlikely to re-hitch, so they carry their birth names.  But their children?  They should definitely drop it; one uses her birth and married names (the right choice), but the other has eschewed both her maiden and married names and adopted her mother's maiden name, "Marley-Clarke", to which she has no legal connection.  Why?  Because she feels like it.  In her case, B also strenuously objects because this one's a real embarrassment, the kind you have to block.  Idle and nosey.   

B once asked one of them why they had dropped their father's name?  One replied, "Well, my mother's birth name is better professionally."  Buddy, it's not your name in any way, shape or form.  You have one name, your birth name.  Period, the end.  And this from a guy who has no profession to speak of and bounces from one get-rich-quick, hare-brained, pillar-to-post-project-to-project scheme after another -- never getting his teeth into anything.  And speaking of his mother, this woman was born in India, but google her and she claims to have been born in London.  Really?  Because it sounds better than dirty-old India?  B is very proud of his British Colonial history and I find it fascinating to listen to the tales he tells of The Raj and life before Partition. 

B's ex, jobless and dependent on him, declared 38 years ago she didn't want to be "Mrs. Marley-Clarke" and kicked him out of the house.  What does she promptly do -- besides ask for and get outrageous sums of money?  Keep his name and does so to this day.  Frankly, I think during divorce, the husband should have to give permission for the ex to keep his name.  However, we are both very glad we no longer live in Ottawa because one would keep bumping into people who would ask if we were related?  Early days, I would try to explain, but finally just started saying, "No, no relation," which was true and shut down a lot of unnecessary blah-blah. 

As for me?  I have had many names.  My birth name, then my adopted name, then a married name and now "Marley-Clarke".  When I was about to re-marry B, it would never have occurred to me to call myself by my first-married or birth name -- let alone by my mother's maiden name!  Were I to have done, I would be "Nancy Stapledon".  Ridiculous.  I took on my husband's name and believe me, it can be a pain-in-the-a--.  People forever call you "Mrs. Clarke" or "Mrs. Marley" or presume you are a hyphenated/liberated type and that your maiden name is "Marley".  No.  And the only reason I have added my maiden name to my fb presence is so that people I knew in high school and university can find me if they want. 

See?  There's a lot in a name.  In my view people should stick to the rules.
_________________________________________
p.s.  I'd like to thank the relative who claims to be a writer (really?) and who routinely reads this and sends things along to those on the other side who need to read it.  (I know who you are, but won't mention your name in case you sue me -- the usual MO of your tribe.)





 

   

Wasn't Zimbabwe a success!

So, elections were finally held in Zimbabwe after the coup to oust Mugabe.  I use the word "elections" loosely because, of course, it was a bloody disaster.  Thug soldiers beating and killing everyone everywhere, people rioting, looting....you name it, it was happening.

As I have blogged before (see "Africa, a stupid continent", 17-11-2017; and "In the vernacular", 12-01-2018), the entire continent of 38 countries is effed.  They apparently have no clue what democracy means?!  It's just one blood-bath after another and Canada has stupidly sent in 300 "peace keeping" troups to Mali.  What a dumb move that will prove to have be.  There is no peace to keep!  Get ready for coffins arriving in Trenton because already senior military brass has told Canadians to be prepared for casualties.

It's all so sad and pointless.  Remember the 134 young men and women sacrificed in Afghanistan?  And for what?  The place has reverted to its warring, tribal ways.  Nothing has changed and nothing will. 

We have Nigerian acquaintances here whose main ambition is to marry their daughter off to a chief back there.  Perfect, let's send our daughter back to one of the worst disasters in the world to marry someone she doesn't know and have babies.  Their sons are being well-educated, but their daughter will be thrown over for some chief.  And these are people who should know better.  She's a school principal and he's a petroleum engineer and yet all they want is for their daughter to go back to Nigeria.  Pretty outrageous and I told her so. 

  

So, these are the facts

Well, well, well, another green myth busted.  Apparently, it takes 26 times more resources to produce those plastic re-useable grocery bags than it does the single-use plastic variety that we've all been told to eschew, lest we be evil polluters and world destroyers. 

And here's the kicker:  Those cotton totes that the "real" enviros carry in a show-offy display of super-greenness?  Those use a whopping.....wait for it.....300 times more resources than the lowly single-use "junk" ones!  Cotton is the worst because it uses so much water and transportation resources to produce.  Who knew?

All this I heard from a waste-management expert and environmental scientist, whose company sorts and recycles refuse in Toronto, on a CBC interview this morning.  I had no idea, as I skulk around the cash in the local grocery store being looked at in disdain, that I am actually "greener" than they!

Now, instead of slinking in shame to my car, I will proudly inform the Birkenstock-ers looking down their noses at me, that their totes are 300 times more damaging to the environment than the ones I am filling up.

Sometimes schleppers such as I get a break.