If Momsey Had a Podcast..

If I had one, what would I do? Reaching the greatest number of people in the shortest amount of time with insights and information. I have thought of this a few times lately. Was it time to up my game? I know what it is though I'm not tech savvy, nowhere near that standard. Soon to be a grandmother to seven, I'm learning more and this next generation is my proof.

I do not live on the net. I live in the real world where dogs need care, a 14-year-old canine needs more and little grandchildren enjoy baba's time and attention, in a different way, while mom and dad do other things. During one lively, fun, laughing session, I babysat my 4 year and his younger, one-year-old brother. Supercalifragilisticexpialidosious came to mind. So we began. I spoke this elongated monstrous word to my 4 year old. We practiced its enunciation, slowly, while breaking the word into its smaller, more manageable parts. The word from the Mary Poppin's movie came alive as we both struggled to repeat this nonsensical word. My grandson was totally engaged. Putting words into the mouths of young children is a game changer. It's a brain workout, pronouncing words not normally in use at that young age. Hearing the word for the first time was a laugh a minute for both of us.

On my podcast, my attention would focus on special education. It always has. That is my passion, my reason for being. Though I struggled in English composition and literature, as a high school student, I relish writing, thinking and writing my blog. My daughter -in-law put me in that special place. She drove me there. Having been a secondary school teacher, an award winning volunteer has helped me garner some attention where it matters: in the minds of parents and those who care about those left behind in main stream education, sort of. Letters can be scary in the mind of a special needs child. So get them out of there for the time being. As we engage in yeast dough, one of the most exciting 'courses' for a young child, he/she is expected to do: engage in  meaningful conversation. No more "See Spot Run"

For learning to happen, conversation must be relevant, engaging and fun. It is the first rung on the learning ladder for children sitting quietly as they must in the classroom. Or should they? The writing/reading stuff is paramount but arrives much later. Just ask your baby/toddler. They're talking continuously and making sense.

Momsey was a special needs secondary school teacher, long, long ago when dinosaurs rules the earth. Let us focus on the fun aspect of learning through conversation. The structural/academic stuff waits its turn. Remember: your child is a genius in hiding. Let us here from him/her. Podcast, here I come.

"You are important, too, nonna!."

 

We were seated nearby the table of five. Three children with two adults, their backs to us. All seemed fine till it happened.

It was November 18^th, black Friday, unbeknown to us, till the signs in the store reminded us. We had taken this day off to shop. Shopping was not a favourite pastime of mine. I shopped because of need - mostly. Dining out was always a special event so where we dined was always uppermost in my mind.

The buffet was laid out in one scrumptious row after another. Hot food, cold food, soup and dessert. I was predictable: soup, hot table then dessert: creme brulee. Keeping to a protein based meal was always my goal. (Rolls, pizza, fries served no useful dietary benefit.) Then it happened. The spitball arrived soon after I was done.

I looked at her, this young girl, whose celebratory lunch with her younger sister, older brother and grandparents had created this unsavory moment. I guess she thought the event was funny till I looked at her, waving my finger to and fro in surprise indignation. Who does that to strangers in a nice restaurant? Sadly, nonno and nonna would soon find out.

I walked over the these precious grandparents who had taken time out of their day to bring their grandchildren here. Normally they are good, she said. Yes, I responded. Normally ours were good till a bit of larceny changed everything. As grandparents, our job is to have fun and spoil our grandkids. Discipline is not our job. But today everything changed.

Nonna apologized then apologized again. She had tried to contain them as they fought near another table. She was sorry for her oldest granddaughter's behaviour. I spoke softly to remind this gentle lady that that she had done nothing wrong. The young lady had. I suggested that a lesson for another visit could include only two of her progeny, a reminder that there are consequences for public misbehaviour. She smiled. This gentle lady listened so sweetly. 

I hope her grandchildren realize what special grandparents they have.  Momsey had none who bothered. Five minutes would have been great for this lonely little girl growing up.

Leaves.Frogs.Machines

Everywhere I looked, leaves blanketed the outdoors. Over the years, we have tried to improve the operation of removing these leaves, maple and birch. Evergreen trees have their own pine needle drama. Which is better for composting? Determining the PH of the compost is a must. What do I know anyway? 

I've learned that the barometer for a healthy planet is measured in the frogs that litter mother nature's  worldwide landscape. If there are none, then we, the humans, are next for extinction. We are either the guardians or the menace of the earth. When we left the small town after many years, we ended up in the country. Frogs were everywhere. Their voices were loud and clear. 

I had been a city girl, too. When I saw a frog I moved it out of its way out of respect. Today, I oversee their passage to higher or hidden ground in case Mr. Wiggles is near. He is very nosy but very gentle and kind, too. Frogs' survival means alot to me. Stopping the lawn tractor when one is crossing ensures a safe trip. Royalty is here. Safe passage is a must. Their lives mean something. Once I noticed a 'dead' frog upon a pile of leaves. I was told he was hibernating. We moved him carefully, covered him gingerly and hoped he survived. I did not know what else to do in that moment. Predators do roam for dinner. During the nights, in our fenced yard, frogs sometimes appear. A photo op could be waiting. 

Our canine soldiers are careful, also. These delightful creatures - all of them, actually - seem to understand their role when confronted at night with these tiny reptiles.. So sweet, so special. Now back to the leaves. I have owned a manual lawn mower, a relic of the past, for many years. It is pink and  deep turquoise and looks like new. I use it to mow newly grown grass in small areas, small areas of our dog patch. No electricity or gas just old fashioned human energy. Good for me, the planet and our pets. Now I use this modern technological wonder to mulch the leaves as they tumble down. Helps the new lawn take root while it 'hibernates' over winter. Even wet, these leaves are easily cut into tiny pieces of future compost. A lightweight tool that satisfies me and but annoys my Sally, our 14-year-old retriever. Great exercise all around.

One late and scary night, I found a frog sitting quietly upon the rigid egg shaped 'puck'. The little guy just sat there, so I took pictures. He was adorable as the larger creatures of the night - Mr.Wiggles and Sally- went about their business. I moved about, flashlight under chin, to click here and there. It was a sight I had never seen. Another photo-op of nature.

Choosing the right machine - manual, battery operated or me - helps to keep our property tidy and the air around us healthier, too. The animals have lived in Mother Nature's garden longer than we have. Tidying up the environment we share with them requires respect. Soon, winter will be here. I am now the recent owner of a battery operated snow thrower, the shovel with a difference. Small areas, 10 inches in width, can be cleared for our 14 year old retriever just as the cold fluffy stuff falls. 

Shovelling the snow will be easier to perform and my senior girl and her younger brother will have an easier time winter walking, one less hazard to confront. Thrilled for the modern twist on snow removal. The Snow Joe, my gift to me. Happy holidays, Mother Nature!

Queen of the Prom!

She's quite the girl, I thought, as I looked at her the other night - still Queen of the Prom! At 14 and still 'standing', her incredible journey continues. 

My son and 'daughter' visited the other night. It hadn't been planned. Worrying about Sally's recent two days, I cautioned them that her schedule was being modified. Sally needed to slow down. Too much running could cause a stumble. A fall might signal the end. In the last few years a paralytic tumble out of nowhere resulted in cause for concern. But a gentle massage of her head helped to reassure her. Love was always near. I'd help her stand to restore her ambulatory status. Off she'd go. 'Business' awaited. 

I looked at this Labrador Retriever of ours, in amazement, as she whirled around the outdoor 'dance' floor. Who is this miracle canine, anyway? Most dogs her age and size are simply not available. What had we done? Our 4 year old grandson started to run vigorously around the outdoor cage, installed for  emergency protection. Living in the country has its own danger, we thought 30 years ago.

My runner grandson is addicted to speed. So, it would seem is our retriever, even at 14, whose history of torn hind leg ligament surgeries, front leg tumor removal, and necrotic lymph node surgery, some years ago, have made our Sally a make work project. Ears are cleaned regularly, however, using gauze squares, making the job easier and more effective. Infection is no longer a threat. She chases our boy. He loves the race.  Speed was his addiction. Sally keeps up. I couldn't believe it. 

Sally is a running marvel to behold. But wait. Overdoing it at her age could cause irreparable damage to  ligaments, muscles and skeletal systems. She stops. I said so! It was time to rest. Her idol was in a hold position! She is a true athlete. Her diet regimen is king because it must be. Diet is medicine, after all. Their intermittent 'raw' diet (frozen berries for pain and inflammation) coupled with daily exercise gives them more than we expected. Healthy and athletic. That is my 14-year-old, Queen of the Prom!

Garlic is Truly King!

Garlic is the greatest of them all. Perhaps a return to home cooking, real home cooking, is an answer to thwarting the next disease to threaten us. Many people survived the virus designed in a lab. What better way to eradicate 'rival' humans! A mention of diet to keep the virus at bay was rarely mentioned if it was mentioned at all.

You will laugh at me but my thinking has always been 'outside the box', as the tired saying goes. Following trends is not my thing, never was. It is a cost that never ends and has no basis. Who are these people instructing us to buy this or that? I have never met them. I am not a trendsetter. No thank you. To be given that label is to be seen as someone with all the answers to food, design, home, furniture and colour trends. I love all colours. Shopping without bringing home anything is the best trip of all. Discovery learning is in play.

My husband is colour blind so when our next house had main colours of black and white tiles in one bathroom, I followed with white and grey to compliment the room. I painted and added simple but delicious lacy curtains, He was entitled to be comforted by colour as was I. Black in a bathroom is unheard of, I thought. But we thought of it as normal for us. The vanity was all black. It is in need of replacement now. We saw its replacement recently. It will be grey wood with black accessories. I love wood, wooden floors, wooden furniture and of course garlic, my friend for life.

The stuff in our house is decades old. But we like what we like: well made and desirable. Constantly replacing this or that might mean its purchase was made too quickly. Replacing anything is prudent when repairing has no merit. Being simple with simple clear cut tastes makes sense to us. It is financially prudent, always. When it comes to food the same policy applies. Foods from my past were simple and repeated often throughout the week. 

Garlic is #1. I love it to this day. Thank goodness. It is now considered a superfood and responsible, in part, for health stability. And, I have learned, it contains 33 sulphur compounds that fight illness and disease.

In an old episode of Bonanza, "Bitter Water", cattle were dying of Texas Fever. This disease had a 90% mortality rate. The only thing that could save these animals from this tick borne killer that destroys red blood cells, enlarges the liver was sulphur baths. Sulphur I asked? That seemed amazing. I thought of the 33 sulphur compounds in garlic. My. My. Could we now have a remedy in the kitchen that can perform astounding feats of healing the human body while strengthening it against the next 'invisible' disease? 

I have heard that previous vaccines, given to children on a prescribed schedule, be trained to adapt to new threats to the human body? Could they be redesigned to thwart the spread of new viruses to come? 

Sulphur, remember the name. It's power cannot be overlooked. I now have a new found respect for these compounds found in garlic which I have loved since childhood. Dessert does not stand a chance.

 

Do Not Feed Wildlife

 

Do not feed the birds white bread. Certain death will follow, the article cautions. What are they talking about, I wondered? As I read this provocative column from our local newspaper, I was shocked to learn the horrific truth of our stupidity. Are we ever going to learn? Are we ever going to stop?

Canada geese and other birds are falling prey to a dreaded disease called angel wing syndrome arising from eating white bread in this modern world. White bread is not a great snack at the best of times. In a post written years earlier, I wrote about the industry responsible for baking our bread. Once upon a time, in the 50's, it took a day or more to produce a loaf of white bread. Now it is ready for sale in mere hours. Additives, preservatives and other softening agents have been added for that perfect loaf of bread. Animals' diets do not include processed white bread. It probably should not be in our diet either but at least we have choice.

Birds with the tell tale white wings are earmarked for death. They simply can't fly. It is what they do to live. In fully mature birds the condition is irreversible. Unable to fly, these victims of processed white bread are now prey to coyotes, foxes and other predators able to catch them. 'They are sitting 'ducks'! Unable to source their food and carry it away, these ill birds are doomed to die a painful death - starvation - as their own species ostracizes them in the process. Sending these birds to an animal sanctuary is an option but takes time and money, commodities always in short supply.

I kept reading. Whenever we have food to give to the outdoor, it was bananas, watermelon and other like minded food. Animals deserve the best of what we eat - healthy food sourced by 'mom' of nature herself. Throwing away junk food harms precious wild life who will eat whatever is lying around. Starvation has no standard. And neither do we, it would seem!

They Had No Idea

We were waiting at the red light when they appeared out of nowhere. I looked up and came face to face with the faces of those beautiful, gentle creatures destined to become dinner.

One cow was black with an 'invisible' body, hidden inside the long metal container of the truck; another, an exquisite beige coat outlined in black was a striking looking animal. I knew where they were going. Sadly, I was complicit in this story. As I looked further inside the interior of this massive truck, I could see many more victims, looking at me with their peaceful faces. I cried as I thought of them all day long. 

Many times, I have seen these large container trucks, adorned with open air 'windows' allowing the animals inside to breathe during transport. (They mustn't die before their appointed time.) I had never been this close to the stars of the summer barbecue. The meat from these animals are irreverently smoked, seared, braised or stewed till tender. Charbroiled is the name of this high heat game. I'm sure these precious animals were tender to the touch long before their eventual demise. 

Food shows seem to show little respect for these animals who have given their lives in the name of charbroiled steaks, barbecue ribs or chicken. Sauces are created to decorate these meats for that super sweet taste. We protest animal cruelty as we eat our steaks and burgers. Plant based 'meat' never looked so good.

The internet did not exist when I was a little girl. The topic of meat never came up. We bought some, cooked it then ate it. The process repeated itself, week to week, when my parents could afford meat. I was never much of a meat eater, anyway. Thankfully. 

My love affair with homemade noodles, sauerkraut, garlic, onions, salads, tomato sauces and my all time favourite - buckwheat kasha - carried me into the future. The latter was a middle of the week dinner as was borscht. I did not connect the dots then. Meat was different from live animals, I thought as a little girl. At one point, I wondered how people on television shows could fit into such small spaces in our black and white t.v.. Weren't these people tired after the 11:00 p.m news? I have since grown up. I'm not a little girl though at times, I'm happy to be one. It's simpler that way.

Those beautiful cows standing in those death trucks were not aware of their impending fate. Everything seemed fine. I looked at them and thought how wonderful it is when I hear the words, vegan or vegetarian. These are the enlightened folks who realize the health benefits of eating foods that do not bleed! The times are a changing and I'm working on it!