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Archive for the ‘Musings and Mom’ Category


I touched on this theme in a previous post about the Super Bowl and thought it should be expanded. Here we go.

The rules of American football could easily have been taken from war. And I mean ancient battles, civil war troop formations If you were to put muskets in the hands of opposing linemen it is easy to picture this game as combat between armies. Two sides facing each other in an archaic battle formation, squaring off and beating one another into submission. Every now and then cannons explode and ‘long bombs’ are unleashed. Wide receivers snag the ‘artillery shells’ down-field. Picture a cannon ball or 155mm shell finding its target. Even the terminology has its roots in the military. ‘Offensive line vs defensive line. ‘Targets’. ‘Blitzes’. Generals/coaches and various support personnel in video booths watch the play and communicate changes in strategy to the soldiers on the field. It’s called a field of play vs a battlefield in the military context. Occasionally the action is so intense and brutal that stretcher bearers are called out to cart away the injured. Medical assistance is offered right on the field in cases of serious injury, just like a medic does his life saving work while bombs explode around him. American football is a brutal game, very male and macho. Like old school war.

By comparison, the European game of futbol/soccer is a more elegant contest. There is continuous movement. Tactics and strategies playing out in real time. There is occasional stop/start where a serious infraction happens, but that is not the norm. The clock keeps ticking. The military analogy holds, but in a modern context. Think drone warfare. There is buzzing movement and continuous action. Killer drones/strikers have a sole function, to destroy the enemy/score goals. The midfielders probe the enemy’s defenses just like reconnaissance drones. They buzz around the field looking for openings and approaches. Similarly to how a drone searches out opportunities and then communicates this information to kamikaze drones, so the midfielders dictate the pace and direction of play and looks to pass the ball to the finishing strikers/kamikaze drones. And like the American game, there are also defenders to guard against enemy capture of the ‘net’. The striking difference is the goalie or gatekeeper. That brings the soccer game back to a medieval time where forts are guarded by walls and the only entry is thru a gate.

I suppose all sports can be painted in similar fashion as having military roots. The comparison is most striking in American football and world soccer. So play or fight on ladies and gentlemen. Let the war games begin!

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Baton in hand, the conductor tried to focus attention of the assembled children’s choir. It was a Saturday. Visiting day for parents. A blue sky perfect kind of summer day. The camp kids and their counselors were garbed in white T’s, the formal camp uniform. Milvi, the conductor and assistant camp director, had a lifelong passion for music. And discipline. She insisted they all be appropriately attired on visiting day. Trying to impart her appreciation of music to her charges was a difficult task considering their little brains were thinking ahead to candy and other treats the parents came loaded with on visiting day. Milvi knew it was an uphill battle but choir practice and performance were critical slots in her list of camp activities. The children did not understand its importance yet, but this was Milvi’s little song festival every Saturday. Producer, director, stage manager. They were hats she proudly wore. And so she flicked her baton. A sweet wave of lyrical melodies from her homeland filled the summer air.

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You arrive at a stage in separation/divorce when antagonism and anger disappears. The simple reality of accepting that as a couple you no longer make sense, unfortunately never arrives at the same time for both parties. And so you have to undergo the aggravation and frustration of a dysfunctional relationship for some time. There is no standard time either, making this process even more maddening. While one party attempts to forge on with what they may think is a sound and rational perspective, the other party to the desiccated relationship either willingly or simply without being conscious of it, ends up placing roadblocks at every juncture. What I am finding though is the following. The more you eliminate the antagonism and anger and blame from your perspective, the process becomes eminently manageable. And your emotional well being does not take as much of a beating as you might think. You can withstand anything the other party throws at you, whether they are conscious of throwing it or not. Doesn’t matter. Just let it slide. And the sense of peace and calm with which you go through the process makes it seem like yes, there is eventually going to be a resolution. Takes patience and determination though. Takes fortitude. Takes discipline. And probably the single most important thing of all? It takes space and time. You gotta be physically separated to even think about going through a manageable divorce. Otherwise it’s ‘War of the Roses’. I have found over the past 6 months of physical separation, that my mindset is quite solid. I am comfortable more often than not. And I can focus on the present and even some of the future, while distancing my thoughts from the past. It helps to have a damn good family lawyer! They give you the space and time you need while they attend to the myriad details of splitting up. Don’t get me wrong. I would rather have been able to just shake hands and move on. But in the end, it is what it is. So I accept it, deal with it and try to move on.

Happy the days are finally turning through the winter solstice and more light is shining each day.

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Is it just coincidence or do more satisfying things happen when one’s cannabis consumption and alcohol intake are drastically reduced? I’m certainly noticing the difference. What with the awkward divorce I’m embroiled in and the corresponding necessity of carefully monitoring finances, I’ve radically cut back on both escapist/enhancement modalities. Obviously there is more cohesion in my thinking and strategies but it’s something more. Something different. A kind of calm and Zen has descended over me. At times it can be troublesome in that it directs my energies into what may seem to others like selfish tunnel vision. But rest assured it is not myopic. I simply feel more confident. I’m just finding it easier to move along, to accept in simplistic language; ‘it is what it is’. Don’t get me wrong. I still love the alternate pathways that alcohol and cannabis (and any mind bending substances for that matter) bring to one’s consciousness. They just don’t suit me at this moment. It may also have a lot to do with the fact I live at the end of the road, literally. In the forest. Near the river. Surrounded by nature and its multifarious calming sounds and sights.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to this excellent essay by Sam Pyrah in ‘The Guardian’ health & wellbeing section. (I’m not making it easy, if you want to pursue this line of reasoning you’ll find it!) This link between nature and our mental health is more than just speculation. There is a developing science establishing “a clear connection between nature and brain function”. One intriguing concept is the role of fractals in actually boosting cognitive skills. “Fractals – naturally occurring patterns that are repeated at different scales within a structure, such as a snowflake, a fern or a tree – have been found to elicit soft fascination……processed more fluently by the brain….urban settings are typically less fractal, with more hard edges and straight lines….crowds, adverts, social media pings – clamouring for your attention and you can see why they could be more taxing on the brain.”

It’s a fascinating read, look for it! Have a fascinating fractal filled day y’all!

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Musings


Things always change. That’s just life. You can fight it or you accept it. The difference is, if you accept it, you get to do other things. If you fight it, you’re stuck in the same spot forever…..David Wroblewski; ‘The Story of Edgar Sawtelle’.

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I am thankful for lawyers. As much as we cast sarcastic jibes at the profession, they serve a useful purpose. They do the dirty work which you don’t want to touch. They charge a pretty penny for this function, but it is well worth the price to remain at arms length. And so my divorce is proceeding inexorably toward a very ugly and unpleasant juncture. My wife is going to be forced out of our marital home in mid winter unless some rational choices find their way back into her head. Yes, I started the process when I first set foot in my lawyer’s office. So in the end it all comes back on me. Getting there is now out of my hands. But that’s in the end. I’ll let St. Peter be my judge. And now I must keep to the resolution I made. No going back. No more delay. I can live with that knowledge and choice. Let the lawyer and the law do their thing. Damn the torpedoes. Stay the course. Ride it out. Just keep eating healthy. Get your exercise. And fire up the sauna. Don’t know how I could get through this without my meditation sweat lodge. Strength. Honour. Integrity. Passion. May those principles continue to guide me to the end of my days. Amen.

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As you enjoy your succulent, sweet strawberries, perhaps picked by your own hand at some local berry farm, this news article from a 1903 country newspaper should make you chuckle.

Richard Stickney, at Lot 10, concession 7 of Peel, pioneering the “pick your own” concept, sold a daily pass, allowing the purchaser to pick any quantity, at 10 cents per day per person.

Further highlighting the almost surreal difference between life then and now, is this piece from a 1932 publication. Recall this was still height of depression era where unemployment was at all time highs, food was hard to come by and real estate prices were tumbling.

The grim outlook for farmers was reflected in farm prices. A 200 acre property in eastern Peel, with good buildings, sold at auction for $3,100 and another property, 218 acres with buildings, changed hands for an even $2,000.

Hard to get your head around those prices. Yes, watermelons were 50 cents each, 2 lbs of chocolate could be bought for 60 cents, 100 lbs of sugar for $4.95. But $2,000 for 218 acres with buildings! It’s a brave new world folks. Come back soon, I’ll be posting more regularly once again. Cheers!

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Happy Birthday to me!


Another year

The calendar days keep getting crossed off

Birthdays are certainly there for reflection

Of moments you’ve enjoyed

Opportunities you’ve missed

Or grasped with a vengeance

I find less time for lamenting

And more time for reveling

In my good health and good fortune

No time for apologies

No patience for sloth

Walk tall, think proud, have fun

Live your life according to the S.H.I.P .principles

Strength, Honour, Integrity, Passion

Happy Birthday to me!

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I sit at my desk, staring at the monitor, trying to think of something other than the War to write about. The fact that it is 3:00am might have something to do with my idea void. Freddie Mercury sings Bohemian Rhapsody, how appropriate. “Is this the real world, or is this fantasy..” Even though Ukraine is struggling to preserve it’s way of life, and the liberty of all of us frankly, I am also getting War fatigue. We’re 70 days into this battle, and there is no end in sight. Here I am, drifting into War stories! Full stop. Got right into the gardening yesterday. Digging around the flower beds. 15 bags of mulch sitting on the lawn, waiting for today’s project. Might even paint the steps, they need a new coat every couple years. All these home maintenance tasks become a little harder year by year. Still enjoyable. I’m not quite at the point where it’s necessary to contract out this work. It goes with the territory. If you own a home, you have to take care of it. Like a car. Maintain it regularly and you will avoid major expense items. Is that what life segues into when one retires? A continuous cycle of maintenance? Both of one’s body and one’s things? Is this the circle of life? Hmmmm….

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I’m doing a load of laundry, put a few towels in the dryer and this eureka moment hit me. Why do we not harness heat from dryer vents? Surely I am not the first one to think of this? All those BTU’s blasting outside, disappearing into thin air, contributing to global warming/climate change. Wasted heat. And when you live in a northern clime like we do, thoughts drift at this time of year to the coming winter. We already have lint filters to grab the little fur balls. Why not attach a HEPA filter to the exhaust air and redirect it thru another opening back into your house? Any engineers out there? Or, does this even need any hi-tech? I’m thinking a length of dryer vent hose, bend it back to the house, cut a hole in the wall and presto! An incredible amount of forced hot air back into your living space. Stay tuned, I may just explore this idea.

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