What are the words again?

Apparently lots of Canadians don't know the words to 'O Canada'. (By the way, that's our national anthem.) The results are even more interesting linguistically:

Alberta.................83%
Manitoba/Saskatchewan...83%
Ontario.................78%
Atlantic Canada.........77%
British Columbia........75%
...but in Quebec, only 61% of respondents could rhyme off the French version without stumbling.

In the first place, the fact the numbers aren't 100% across the board is pathetic. I mean, shouldn't every Canadian know the words to our national anthem? They should, but they don't. Just look around you on the rare public occasion that O Canada is actually played at a public event -- other than a hockey game. More than half of those gathered are mute. It is just not acceptable.

I remember when I was in elementary school, we started the day with 'God Save the Queen', O Canada and The Lord's Prayer. You simply had to know the words. And, by the way, we also had to sing it in French every day. Without sounding too much like a good-old-days whiner, I think we need civic's classes brought back.

Where's the money??!!

After handing Attawapiskat $90 million, a few intelligent folks are asking where it went??!! Chief Theresa Spence has no credible clue. Whaaaat!!*()&#$! How could 1,800 people still live in squalour after being handed that much money? There are only 1,800 people living there. That's it. 1,800. And Spence added she was "offended" that the PM asked about it in the House of Commons. Finally, someone is looking into it. Just heard a CBC reporter quoting from an audit that shows "significant problems" in the management of the band's finances. Well, hello?! This is one can of worms that desperately needs opening.

Just listening to Regional Grand Chief Stan Louttit on TV who calls it..."a systemic shortfall of resources". Whaaaat!! And as to the $90 million? Louttit says the government is trying to blame the community. He then added they don't get enough money.

That's it on this file for now. But stay tuned, the airwaves will be filled with this until they aren't.

Wait a minute

The Red Cross has gone into a northern reserve because the people are destitute? They have declared a "housing emergency". Whaaaaaaa??!!! Just watched this story on TV. I am dumbfounded. Where did this reserve's portion of the $8 billion Canadians give natives every year go? I have blogged about this national disgrace before, about how our natives are not accountable for a penny of the money they are given every year. You can't tell me that this reserve didn't get its money.

What I constantly wonder is why the natives don't ask their own leadership what they are doing with the money. Just read that Parliament has passed legislation forcing the chiefs to publically account for the money they get (or is is "hoard"). It's high time! There are between 20 and 30 (depending on your source) chiefs who make more than the Prime Minister -- that's up near $200,000. I mean, feature it!

Naturally, one chief's response was to accuse the federal government of being "colonialist" in asking for accountability. More PR at work here. Please.

But the Red Cross! Naturally, the blame will be slapped on the feds -- not where it should land.

Maybe forever?

Looking so forlorn 41 years ago, the jade tree from which I snipped a cutting was barely surviving under my mother's care. Lillian Griffith did not have an indoor green thumb, but her outdoor thumb was on fire. We had the most beautiful blue spruce trees, hedges and gardens on our property, but her house plants -- that was another matter. They were pretty much ignored, covered in dust and watered....whenever....or not. Jade trees can take a great deal of abuse and these scrawny sticks, languishing half-dead in a pot in her kitchen window, cried out for an intervention. There they sat, stunted.

I decided to grab a cutting all those many years ago before I moved to TO. That jade tree grew into a fabulous specimen. It got bigger and bigger and bigger. I gave away cuttings over the years to all my children. Their plants grew and grew and grew. All were thriving. Then came the day when we moved to Calgary. The original jade tree was huge and not portable. Even if we had managed to lug it into the moving van, it would not have survived the thousands of miles to Calgary. Luckily, my step-son Scott took "Gram's" jade tree to live with him. I almost cried as I watched it roll down the hall on a dorry to his car.

But before that tree departed, I again snipped two more cuttings, wrapped them in wet paper towel and popped them into my carry-on. They arrived in good form. After sitting them in water for a couple of months, they grew roots long enough for planting. That's what I was doing in Canadian Tire the other day -- buying pots and soil to plant them.

One went to daughter Susanne in Cochrane and the other now sits here with me. My mother's jade tree lives on.

What planet are we on??

I guess the same sad one. Yesterday, B and I had to go to the bank to sign some papers; the appointment was with a middle manager. Out she comes to greet us. She is about 30 -- or as I say, 12. Maybe it was my lack of makeup, my thrown-on outfit, my ill-matching scarf and gloves, or my worn boots, but she treated me like an ignorant, old wife.

"Have a seat Nancy. Are you sure you're OK? Now, you just have to sign a few documents and I'll walk you through them, so don't worry. Are you familiar with Brian's accounts? Do you know how the banking is done? Have you ever done any of the household banking?"

I was stunned. "You know, you really should familiarize yourself with your finances. As a matter of fact, I am dealing right now with a poor widow who is having a very difficult time figuring out her finances and it's always a good thing to learn, in case anything happens to your husband."

I was more stunned. This young know-it-all-smarty-pants automatically presumed I was some kind of loser/doormat who had no clue about anything. She did not ask me about my background, whether I had a job, whether I had ever had a job, whether I was a heart surgeon, whether I was an astronaut, whether I had split the atom...No, she just carried on blabbing in smug ignorance, taking as a given that I was a perfect dummy and that it was her job to explain the world of high finance to me and everyone else she met. I could just picture her at a party, boring the life out of everyone unfortunate enough to have to talk to her. Memo to the Royal Bank: update your training program now!

Before I came to my senses, I heard myself saying, "Oh, I have had a long career and many senior positions, so I am familiar with bank accounts." What was wrong with me??!! I worked for Revenue Canada, for G-d's sake, so money is not a mystery. I quickly caught myself. Settle down, sister and give your head a shake...is what I felt like saying. But I just became very icy -- not that she noticed. She was going on a vacation to Hawaii with her husband the next morning and that was all she could talk about -- that and her experience with Shaw cable......as if I cared. The complete lack of self-awareness and sensitivity was breathtaking!

It was a sad moment. As I said, what planet are we on??!!

More high heels

As if I needed more high heels, but that's exactly what I bought last Friday. I discovered Arnold Churgin Shoes back in 2001, when step-daughter, Sarah, lived in Calgary. I bought a pair of black, patent leather heels that I have worn and worn and worn and worn. I have had them repaired a dozen times because they are the most comfortable high heels I own. They go with everything and I adore them. But even they will not go on forever. So, in I popped to Arnold Churgin. Emerged with a new pair of patent pumps, a gorgeous pair of multi-coloured suedes and a lovely, low-cut pair of browns. The browns have what is called "toe cleavage" -- the splits between your toes show, which is so attractive (I think). In the '20s, toe cleavage was considered very risque. Read that in The New York Times. At my age and stage, toe cleavage will have to do.

Obviously, there is a reason this blog is called "The View From High Heels". I believe shoes make the outfit. I mean, put on a great dress, fabulous jewellery and the wrong shoes and your outfit is toast. I spend much less on clothes because the shoes carry the day -- or night. That and jewellery. The cheapest pair of the right earrings will take a nothing outfit over the top. Can't count how many times I have seen women in expensive outfits with expensive -- but very dull -- earrings. The overall effect is zero -- especially if they add stupid hair to the mix. What's stupid hair? Dyed for too many years, too long for your age, the 50's page-boy look when you're 60, inch-long roots, Margaret-Atwood-hair...you get the idea.

So, that's my shallow blog for today.

Music!

Aging and cumbersome -- with about a thousand different coloured wires, plugs and speakers -- our stereo system and speakers are now part of a "white elephant" sale at our old parish in Ottawa. I finally did it. I bought a Bose Wave Music System. What a brilliant system!

Yes, you have only to unpack and plug it in; just like the advertising says. I am now listening to all the CDs I love. Gerry Rafferty, Ahmad Jamal, Tom Cochrane, Shania Twain, Celine, the Bee Gees, Joe Cocker, Bryan Adams, Rush, Marvin Gaye, Elton John, The Rolling Stones.....you get the idea. Not to mention all the Christmas CDs -- Handel's Massiah and gospel choirs. Really getting into the spirit.

Happy, happy.