Well, that didn’t go well – not well at all. A big bust you could say.
Britain. France. Germany. Italy. Japan. All their support is welcome, but all good intentions aside, none of them must share a border with a foolish reality TV personality, one whose spokespeople said openly Canada and Justin Trudeau were mocked to look tough for the most serious meeting any president could ever be having.
If I ever wanted #45 to succeed in something, it was now, when the world could possibly end up exploding into nuclear war. The rest of it, if we in Canada had to swallow his insults for that purpose alone, I’d say we could gladly take that on. I fear we haven’t heard the last of it though.
I’m thankful for marking June 5th, transplant anniversary, with a dinner with my dad to celebrate 21 years.
I have my father and I have a working kidney. Makes me the luckiest woman around, I’d say.
All one needs – one of each. Top notch.
I’m thankful for an inspired writing prompt to make us all write better at my writing group.
“Love was a hallowing man with a home and only I knew that.”
And the stories just sort of spun loose from there, from all of us, getting us to write in styles we weren’t often known for amongst that room of our creative peers.
I’m thankful for a delicious vanilla latte and catch up with a friend.
I’m thankful for biscotti.
I’m thankful for the right and access to vote.
The accessibility issue is a different story, but not nearly so bad as it could be. These are the times I wonder if I have the right to complain, to think I should try for betterment.
It was a braille sleeve that the voting card slides into and braille and raised numbers for each party’s offering for my riding, not that I claim to understand all the lingo. So, I was with someone I trusted, to help make sure the card was lined up properly and to let me know the order the names were going with the numbers. I learned later alphabetical. Should have known.
So, I counted down, to the correct number, and made my X in the small cut-out circle provided.
Now, all the strong wording was that Ontario’s possible next provincial leader, if chosen PC/Conservative Party, would basically be giving Ontario its very own copy of the guy put into the Whitehouse. Enough to scare anyone.
Was that all they were trying to do? (Whom I’m not really sure.)
And thus I was lucky to live in Ontario, Canada, where I could vote, where my blindness didn’t prevent me from voting, my right in a democratic society. And some of you will not have known much about this, but the PC was voted in, and he is the brother of deceased Toronto mayer, known around the world a few years back, Rob Ford, who even made it onto the Jimmy Kimmel Show.
What have we gotten ourselves into, I wonder? Is he a #45 wannabe?
He sure feels like it, but as we don’t do anything really to anywhere near as dramatic of a degree as our neighbours to the south, I don’t know if he’s going to be as bad as all that. (See my opening for this week’s post.)
As switching from one party to another often goes, in politics, the Liberal Party had a lot of years to run Ontario and now it’s someone else’s turn. I just hope all the scare tactics were playing on mine and other people’s greatest fears, though sometimes my dramatic side feels totally justified.
I’m thankful for the ocean, on World Oceans Day and every day.
The morning after Thursday’s election, I was feeling low about everything, when it seemed the party to beat had started to seem like the NDP, but no big surprise, as my negative side kept whispering in my head. All I wished for was to be by the ocean.
I’m thankful for Dr. Sylvia A. Earle and her mission.
I’m thankful for my sister helping me shop for what looks/feels good on me, even without being able to see any of it from my end.
It is the strangest thing, to go by fabric and texture and shape, rather than how a colour looks or how it looks on the body. Again, I’ve learned that yellow isn’t my colour. Shame really.
I’m thankful for documentaries about puffins, grey seals, and the coast of Ireland.
And travel storytellers like the one that was lost for good.
RIP to Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain.
Earle said to “dive in and go deep” and that’s the way Bourdain seemed to live his life, right up until the end.
“Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life—and travel—leaves marks on you.”