Last Blogger Post

I've moved my blog to Substack. You can find it here. 

Thanks for dropping by, and thanks for reading!

Karen

Christmas Rerun

The Allan Gardens can also be pleasant: part of 2018's Christmas display.

I have company coming for lunch and supper today, so here's a rerun from December 2018 ... before the pandemic, before the encampment in the Allan Gardens ... back in the day when the city was, as it is now, randomly violent and also full of heroes.

I live in downtown Toronto, so I've followed blood trails from time to time. When I see them, I wonder what misfortune befell the person who left behind the bright red medallions on the sidewalk. I assume I'll never know what happened: a blow to the nose, or a cut with a knife...

Except for this one time, that is.

I was walking along the east-west diagonal path through the Allan Gardens. I was on my way to see a movie. In the distance I saw two people fighting. A woman about my height and weight was having the better time of it with a smaller, slighter man. She had him by his hair and was pounding him with great big haymaker punches.

I will walk by a lot of nonsense in this neighbourhood, but not fights. So, when I got to where they were - by three benches in the middle of the park - I stopped and called to them. I said I'd call the police if they didn't break it up.

At this point, the woman had the man pinned on his back on one of the benches. His head overhung the edge of the bench and was very close to the ground. 

I'd distracted them from their fight and it looked for a moment like they might stop.

Just then, a man sitting drinking a can of beer on another bench, stood, took a step toward the two, lifted his right leg bent at the knee and with truly shocking force, stomped on the small man's head.

That ended the fight. I yelled at the man with the beer who, I think, up until that moment had not been aware I was there.

The female combatant came at me, protesting her innocence. I ignored her, fished my phone out of my pocket and called 911.  

The guy who had been kicked had a three inch gash on his left temple and was bleeding profusely. He was conscious but seemed stunned by the force of the blow.

For the record, I was not alone. At least three other people, two men and an older woman, all saw the helpless small man get his head stomped by the guy with the beer. 

They were also all gone, the perpetrators, the witnesses, by the time I connected with the 911 operator a few seconds later.

I told the operator I needed an ambulance at the Allan Gardens.

She asked me what the address was.

Good grief. 

Once we'd sorted that out, the response of the paramedics was impressively swift. Mere minutes I'm sure. While they were on their way, a crowd of people joined me at the scene of the attack, a couple of whom had some first aid training. They helped the man while I conveyed instructions to them from the 911 operator.

A woman came up behind me, demanding information - what happened to him; is he hurt; how did this happen.  

I lost patience with her because it was hard to hear the 911 guy. I told her I couldn't answer all her questions. The 911 guy thought I was talking to him. He said he needed to ask me questions so they could help the assault victim. I said "no, no, no I wasn't talking to you." It'd have been funny if it weren't so grim.

The paramedics were two tall young women, calm and competent. They had the guy's head bandaged so fast I didn't even see them do it. They put a neck brace on him, which he did not react well to. He was struggling with it, trying to take it off, saying he couldn't breathe. Another young woman, just a civilian in the crowd I think, stepped in and started talking to the man, assured him the paramedics were there to help him, asked him what his name was. Incredibly, he calmed down, laid down on the gurney and let them get him ready to go into the van.

I'd hung up the 911 call when the paramedics arrived and watched from a distance as they prepared to take the injured man away. A couple of other emergency response types had shown up, one of whom had a supervisory air about him. I went up to him, said I was the one who'd made the call, and was it OK if I left.

He said, "sure" and then he said "thank you."

"You're welcome," I said, grateful for the civil exchange after all the shock and upset.

Then I turned around and went back home, life having handed me more excitement than a movie ever could.

Thanks for reading!

Karen

Stuff Never Sleeps - The End

Humans made this: The "Gum Wall" by Pikes Place Market, Seattle, WA. Ew.

Last year I wrote about the deadweight loss of Christmas, which is a term economists use to tell us we're throwing good money after bad. 

Joel Waldfogel is an economist who argues in his book Scroogenomics that purchasing gifts for other people is a "terrible way to allocate resources." He estimates worldwide that approximately $25 billion a year is misallocated in holiday spending. 

Everyone reading this knows what he's talking about. The candle you got last year that you put in the office Secret Santa this year, the bottle of port (ick) you got from your boss that you haven't touched, the gift you spent ten hours shopping for, so your friend could look genuinely disappointed when they opened it. 

We don't need economists to tell us we're throwing good money out the window. Every year we do it anyway. 

Because, it wouldn't be Christmas, apparently, without a deadweight loss.

Recently, I received an email from Neil Heatherington, the Executive Director of The Daily Bread Food Bank, in which he said that there were 2.5 million "client visits" to Toronto food banks over the past year.

Another factoid in circulation is that one in ten people inToronto have used a food bank at least once in the past year.

Last fun fact: food bank use is up 63% this year, compared to the year before.

All of which is to say, this year I'm cutting my deadweight losses. Most of the money I would have spent on gifts has been donated to a food bank.

And my gift to most of the people on my list is one less piece of stuff they don't need. 

Happy Holidays!

Karen

Humans also made this: the Cowardly
Lion costume from the Wizard of Oz.
You can find it as the Museum of 
Popular Culture, Seattle, WA.
This is the real thing and it is made out
of real lion pelts. Ew.

 

Stuff Never Sleeps - Part III

Crow on a pumpkin and ground squirrel on the lam at North Arm Farm,
Mount Currie, British Columbia, 17 October, 2023

Now that the dust has settled, literally, figuratively on our kitchen renovation, and I have completed the sixth purge of our belongings since I retired four years ago, I have two observations I'd like to share.

First, if you have not used something in fifteen years, even if you likely have another fifteen years left to you, you can safely ignore the little voice in your head that says "this may come in handy some day."

Second, no, you don't need it, whatever it is, unless you can eat it, drink it or wear it in public. Trust me on this one.

Thanks for reading!

Karen

Pittock Mansion Grumpy Cat

 

Guest Blog - Kitchen Edition

First, a review of the kitchen situation.

This is what we had:

    

This is what they said we'd get:

This is what we got:

    

So, all good, right?

Well, I'll let Bruce tell the story. This how he answered his brother's texted question about how things were going in renovation land:

Hmmm. Bit of a rollercoaster ride, but I think we’re finished all the frightening, sickening loops, rolls and plunges. We came back from Belleville by train yesterday afternoon, full of optimism that the job was done (as the project manager informed us it was), and done properly (we ought to have known better). We arrived to find the work substantially done, but with some glaring defects in the workmanship. The place was a bloody mess, with dust, surplus installation hardware, protective plastic wrap and foam from  the appliances strewn everywhere. Our new counter limited the new fridge to opening on the right side only. It took Karen an hour to figure out why the induction cooktop wouldn’t heat a pan or stay on - by the time she figured it out she was in quite a state. She was just getting over a cold she caught in Belleville. I caught it from her and I was only about half alive when we got home. By the time we went out to get something to eat at around 4 in the afternoon we were pretty dispirited and dangerously salty. But a beer and some mutual talking one another down helped a lot, and we resolved that we shouldn’t say or do anything too rash until we talked to the project manager and got a read on what he could do by way of mitigation. Then we set out to make a lengthy and detailed list of deficiencies for him to address.

The project manager was slated to come by this afternoon, so we went out for breakfast, came home and begin to battle the drifts of drywall dust and construction waste. We made a little progress, but the effort was therapeutic in itself. As we cleared the kitchen of crap, we were able to see how well our choices of materials came together, how much improved was the light on the work surfaces, how shiny and clean were the (insides) of the new appliances. This buoyed our spirits considerably, I can tell you. By the time buddy arrived to talk to us we were collected and businesslike, with what I hope was an undertone of steely determination to see this shit sorted. None of what we said or showed him phased him at all, and he acknowledged the problems. His foreman arrived a while later and corrected some little stuff. We have reasonable assurance that they’ll be back to do the rest in the next couple of days. We’re holding back the last three grand of their billing against satisfactory completion. And the the fridge door problem was solved by shoving the fridge as far away from the counter as the cavity would allow - it’s not perfect, but neither are we. Seems somehow appropriate.

My cold’s a bit better today, and we’re just ready to go out for another meal. I’m glad you texted to ask about this because whenever I feel overwhelmingly pissed off at things in my life I can look back to this text and be reminded of how much better things can seem with a little patience, effort, good will, and the passage of twenty-four hours.

Your loving brother,

Bruce  

The drama of the first 48 hours aside, I'd say we did OK. There were some glitches in our renovation, but there always are. All the other metrics were fine: the job was done per specifications, on time and as quoted. (The cost, by the way, was just under $50K, which includes tax and two side projects that were executed perfectly well.)

And now we never, ever, ever have to do anything like this again.

Thanks for reading!

Karen

November 11th's post: I think a Remembrance Day graphic I added to the distribution email must have sent last week's entry into most people's spam filters. You can find it here. 

Signs of Truth

On the door of Horseshoe Coins and Antiques, Blaine, Washington.

On our trip to the Pacific Northwest, we crossed into the United States at Blaine, Washington, a one time fishing and logging town whose businesses now meet the needs of the people and trade that pass through every day.

In 2019, a local gave the town this review:

Blaine is a slow town that’s great for retirees and alcoholics. It’s home to the worst of everything I’ve just about ever encountered. The grocery store is horrible, the post office is by far the most inadequate and the police force is great if you’re a good ol’ boy. The restaurant choices are limited, racism is rampant and the town is 20 years behind the times. You can’t even get internet everywhere and your choices for anything are limited and usually poor. ... Easily the worst place I’ve ever lived. 

By 2020, Blaine was beset by the COVID virus, and one shopkeeper felt he needed to take a stand. He refused to allow people wearing masks to come into his store and covered his windows with laminated memes, just in case there was any doubt about where he stood on the matter.

The shopkeep, whose name is Bill, had some simpatico clients, like the one who left this review in 2022:

I popped by Blaine today and saw this antique store. I was intrigued by all the signs of truth posted and was welcomed by Bill the owner who I talked to for 30 min...he's very knowledgeable about history, politics, and artifacts. He showed me around his store it was full of wonderful items...I will be back with my husband for sure once our home is complete. Thanks Again Bill

But, by July 2023, another patron had some advice for the proprietor of Horseshoe Coins and Antiques:

Don't get Bill started on the Trump stolen election or vaccine issues and you will be fine. The windows of the business are plastered with anti vaccine and Trump stolen election fliers. If Bill wants to get more customers in the door he needs to take all the fliers off the window and let some light in and stop discussing politics.

People who study these things can tell you crises like the COVID pandemic give rise to civil unrest, and to shopkeepers getting their dander up. The people who study these things will also tell you that, sooner or later, angry populations will simmer down, go back to normal (whatever that is) and let the collective powder keg that is humanity sit quiet for a time. 

The biggest impression Bill's one-man-one-window campaign left on me is how ratty and old everything is starting to look. 

So maybe it's time to move on.

Thanks for reading!

Karen

This window meme shows a real doctor, and he may have actually said this, but not because he did a controlled study of 13,000 children. He runs some kind of "whole health" alternative health service. And here's what his service has to say about vaccines now: 

Foundationally, IFM recommends a functional medicine approach for all individuals, regardless of their COVID-19 vaccination status, for protection against SARS-CoV-2 infection and severe disease. Such an approach focuses on lifestyle and personalized nutrition to strengthen the immune system and to address complex chronic diseases that confer increased risk. IFM also recognizes that the use of these vaccines has been shown to decrease the serious sequelae and/or death from SARS-CoV-2 infection.[empahsis added]

There are variable risks and harms of COVID-19 and variable risks, benefits, and harms of COVID-19 vaccines, both known and unknown, in different populations. Therefore, IFM recommends the use of vaccines applied in a personalized, risk-stratified manner. Evidence regarding COVID-19 vaccines continues to emerge and will be continuously monitored.

For more information
Alyssa Parker, Manager, PR
media@ifm.org

Kitchen Exile

Life in Belleville is a lot like life in Toronto, except here there are enough children in the neighbourhood to make Hallowe'en interesting.

While we cool our heels just north of Prince Edward County, we get daily dispatches from our contractor about the renovation's progress. 

First there was the tear out:

The arrow shows where the outlet can't be moved.

Then, after some electrical work, the cabinets were installed (the floor's also been put in but it doesn't show in the shots):

The appliances arrived on Friday (and went into the dining room):

We've been told the counter is being installed today (Saturday, November 4). We're coming into town for a retirement party, so we'll be able to see this all in person.

Without wishing to jinx the swift and steady progress, our contractor thinks the whole job will be done by Remembrance Day.

Then we'll be out of exile and back in our own home for more than an overnight stay for the first time in about a month. 

Can hardly wait.

Thanks for reading!

Karen