It's been a busy few days

Daisy had 9 tick nymphs on her in the morning.  You can see the difference in size between the adults and the nymphs. All were removed with tweezers. I plunk Daisy on a towel, hubby holds the jar. Easy peasey.

I'm growing sprouts in my new system. It was a fundraiser from Vesey's, at the kids' school, and a Mother's Day gift from Caitlin. I love sprouts on sandwiches, which is what I usually have for breakfast!

By the evening we were at 95.9%!

In the morning, I woke at 5:30, I went out to see if the owl chick had branched. Momma was using her solicitation call. No chicks in sight. I've followed this nesting site for two years, now.


I'm having trouble uploading the video. I have video of Daisy being treed by a fox, as well as the owl momma. We have limits on our bandwidth and it slows me down when I'm doing my stuff. Also, we were close to our maximum  last night, in the monthly billing. Rural internet!

Meantime, on the road

The road is still being paved. It's a long, noisy day from 6:30 a.m. when they rev up, 'beep-beep-beep' as they back up, and park, and line up. Recent photos: Lanark County Construction 2017. The noise grates on me. To add to this, it's OPP Recertification training day. In the back 500.

Phoebe is still on the nest!

Our DVD Player

We're still working on getting a $90 replacement DVD player under warranty. You can read updates...LG Customer Relations are horrible. Worse customer service than Bell, and that takes a lot of effort. We're after The Source (formerly known as Radio Shack) now. We shall see.

Osprey

On our way into Ottawa, I spotted an osprey. It was about to rain, momma was on the nest, poppa in the tree. Hubby happily turned around for me!

The funeral

We left on our way into the city for a funeral at 10:30, early lunch at Swan on the Rideau. It was a very well attended funeral. He was a favourite teacher, and was well-loved. He taught music to all three of my kids. The church was FULL (about 450 people), with standing room only. I took a photo of the inside of the church to show my son. This was prior to the service. They spent many an hour with 'Sir', as they called him. Staff sat us in the overflow (about 150), in the basement, with a screen showing the sanctuary. It was beautiful. We didn't get home until 4:00. One of the great things Sir did, was the Manotick Arts Camp, they did a flashmob in 2011.



Also, I accidentally posted my series on the Almonte Hydro Dam. What the heck.

What a day! Elections, coughing, birding

Praise be: thanks to TLC, Rx. and taking it easy, I made it through the night without coughing! Thank you, all, for your kind words of comfort. I feel so useless, with much to do on the property to prepare for winter. This is the challenge when one is ill: accepting care, for there is giving in receiving.
Isabelle is home sick, too! We just had a Skype session, and she showed off her back of collected kleenex! She's really good about coughing into her elbow! She's been blowing her nose and watching movies, too!
About Time –excellent one, done by the Brits. Very thought provoking. His decision to make his world a better place by getting a girlfriend turns out not to be as easy as you might think.

Daisy & I took a slow walk around the frog pond Monday. The Muskrat house is growing.
Daise likes to sit with me on our logs.

Lots of election news: Ontario votes Alberta had provincial elections, too

Yes, it was our 4-year fixed date for municipal elections. Now, municipal have the most impact on our lives, but Ottawa, for example, had a 39.9% voter turn out rate.

• Perth's mayor, our closest town, and his deputy mayor, was acclaimed.
• Smiths Falls, Carleton Place, several near-by towns have new mayors.
  
• Ottawa's mayor was re-elected. Yes, Jim Watson - who? Despite being a mayor of a big city, most of us are happy he doesn't make the news too much!
• Doug Ford didn't get elected mayor of Toronto. Unfortunately, Rob Ford was elected into his old seat as Councillor. He's taking chemo. We'll see what happens. 

Unofficial Results Our little county doesn't have a mayor. We have 2 councillors and a reeve. They didn't tell us where to vote, or how many we can vote for. It was one candidate for councillor who sent us information on voting. Seriously. Our tax dollars at work - or not.

Mind you what do we get for our taxes?

• You get up in the morning and brush your teeth with town/city water. (We're on a well.)
• You flush your toilet. (We're on septic.)
• You put out your garbage, recycling and compost. Yes, we have garbage and a moderate recycling program. Mind you, a lot of us have the room to compost and we have little garbage, the two of us. The landowner across the road dumps his construction dirt and rocks across the highway, on his land.
• You hop on the bus for work. We are 5 km from Perth and must drive, or take a $25 taxi ride. Still cheaper than a 2nd car! You get the picture.

Funerals abound

Today, I expect to watch TV coverage of our young soldier shot dead on Parliament hill last week. I'm sure it will be a moving experience. The feds expect are tabling a new bill to give more power to our CSIS. This will allow them to work internationally, like MI-6 and the CIA. Having been watching Homeland on DVD (excellent!), I shudder. This bill was deferred with the shooting, ironically. However, the two men who murdered our two soldiers last week seemed to have been motivated by politics, but no more than the TV shows and movies that motivate many.

The man who shot the 3 RCMP dead last June is being sentenced today in N.B. He spoke at his trial and he was remorseless, rambling on about various topics, revealing a lack of respect for authority, and the law. He played the 'it's not fair' card: not fair he has a rotten job, and no women in his life, as he embraced violence, and brought guns into his family home. I pity the parents of these men, whom I shall not name.

I turned off the news, waved as hubby went out to vote, and sat and fed the birds. Daisy decided to help. The blue jays were unfazed. The first photo was cool, Mr. Jay mid-hop! The Horse chestnut tree still has some leaves. I flung a peanut into the frog pond, just to see what the Jays would do. They didn't bite. I'll keep on with that experiment later!

The junco pick up the scattered seeds, avoiding the Blue jays altogether.
The Woodpeckers go at the feeder while I distract the Jays!
The Goldfinches have lost their brilliant yellow, and are ready for winter.

Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep

Caitlin's wedding, 2005
Both her late father and I walked her down the aisle.

That was quite a day. First off, it was a 45-minute drive to Kars to have a brief visitation with my ex-late husband.
What a shock. We were married 17 years: 1976 - 1993! 
Patrick Timothy Martin
April 21, 1950 - February 4, 2014

Normally, only the family gathers at the funeral home, and the casket is closed, then the family goes to the Celebration of Life.

Of course there were years of discord, as my first husband and I  navigated our way from me being a  young university student (age 18), when we were married (1976) and moving to Ottawa (1981). I was going out to work as a teacher (I graduated pregnant as he wanted kids, being 6 years older than I), and then separating (1993), and divorcing a couple of years later. I simply couldn't live with him. The Right Fight, as Dr. Phil calls it, was too much for me. In a marriage you do not need to be right, you need not correct your father-in-law (my late Dad, who had low self esteem, depressive traits, and a gr. 10 education).
  

Without any closure, and many memories of conflict, how do you move beyond that? I found that by concentrating on the grandkids at any parties (hatching, matching or dispatchings), I could get through it.

I was alone with his body for about 20 minutes before the family arrived. I made my peace, remembered the good times, gently chastised him for not accepting counselling the 3 times I'd asked. Assured him that her children were going to look after his 2nd wife, Sharon. She is not well.  I told him we have fine children and grandchildren. What's done is done. We did the best we could at the time.

My late father and mother , our family in 1991
at the church were the funeral was held

As with my daughter's wedding, there were in-laws, and what my late mom called out-laws! My ex-husband's wife's adult children and grandchild.

The time we spent preparing to go to the church for the funeral service was interesting. The casket was still open, and Isabel (3 yrs. old) asked every 5 minutes or so, to go over and look at her late grandfather's body. I've done much reading and writing on sharing grief with children.

I told her she could remember Grampa Pat by looking at the photos they had. There was one photo of him, in drag, for a Hallowe'en party. It was 1981, and I was doing my B.Ed. at OttawaU. I was one of the oldest class members. I had to explain the photo to Bradley, Sharon's son. Several of our husbands all decided to go as women to the Hallowe'en party. It was funny and fun! A good memory.

I lifted Isabelle up and we talked about her grampa as we gazed on his lifeless form. We agreed we were sad he was dead. She was kind to tell me.

My daughter talks to Josephine.
Her aunts look on.

     "He not sleeping." she assured me.
I said she could remember her grampa in her mind.
     "No, Gramma. In my brain!" she retorted!
Suggesting her Grampa had a new body, and new home, and was with his mommy and daddy, that stumped her. I said he was in heaven with the angels and she could talk to him, if she wanted, and tell him she remembered him. He would like that. (She cannot process the concept of a great-grandparent.) She was OK with the notion that he was with the angels.
     "We not see them. They're invisible!" she explained wisely.
    "What else can't we see?" asked Papa.
   "Your breath."
     "Air."

The minister came in and suggested we could say our last goodbyes before they closed the casket. Isabelle, on my hip, watched everyone carefully. He step-grandmother went to the casket, we happened to be standing behind Sharon.

"Gramma," she queried, "why they not say goodbye?" She expected to hear them say those words, but people were murmuring. She didn't like that! Kids need to see, hear and understand what we do. This is part of grief, mourning and bereavement. We model it for them, show them the cultural traditions, which gives them a framework. I carried her over and she said "Goodbye, Grampa Pat!"

Everyone got their coats on. Isabelle told me I should come with her and sit in the back seat of their mini-van. I told her I had to drive my car!

This is the church our family attended.
This is where Pat's funeral was held,
since he and his wife were members there.

     "You can drive beside us, Gramma!"
     "That might not be safe, Isabelle!" She seemed to need me with her for some reason. It was heart warming.

We drove in the funeral cortege over to the church. I was last in line. There were impatient drivers behind us, veering in and out, looking to see if they could pass these slow drivers. Argh.

We drove past the house where my kids had had swimming lessons, across from the feed and grain store. Then we turned the corner, passing the development where Pat and Sharon had lived. Up, farther north, where Mrs. Eastman's farm was. She taught Jesse kindergarten. She was there at the church, helping with the food served after the funeral. The old Carsonby building was next, where the kids had participated in community pageants. Finally, we arrived at the church.

Being the 1st wife at a funeral means I'm persona non grata. It's bizarre and surreal not to be mentioned at all!  I watched the 1st Mrs. Mandela greeting the 2nd Mrs. Mandela at his funeral. In my mind, I held to that standard. Dignity and class, they had in the public eye.

Isabelle at her great-grandparents gravestone. 
Isabelle was
fascinated with the site.
"Gone but not forgotten,
at rest in their beloved Muskoka"

The funeral service was lovely. Many tears, good remembrances. Our granddaughters, and Pat's step-granddaughter, all lit candles. We sang hymns, heard scripture. We heard comforting words and the message that all is love.

My eldest son read a eulogy, with his fine acting voice, and sang a song. I totally forget what it was.

I had scarfed some tissues from the funeral home. My son-in-law, beside me, grabbed one. Josephine, at this point, was reaching up to hug her mom. She and Caitlin wept together. SIL handed a tissue to Josephine. Josephine noticed her uncle was quietly weeping and scootched over to him, past her great-aunt (Pat's sister) and gave her tissue to her uncle. 

It was a poignant moment.

My youngest son was not at a loss for words. I like to think he found his love of literature through me! They all have musicality from both their parents. With his fabulous bass voice, he recited a poem, from memory. Of course, there was much weeping!

Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

There were smiles and happy memories
visiting my parent's gravesite (Aug. 2011)
Isabelle and Josephine couldn't understand 
that MY parents were buried here.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

 in Frye's obituary, 5 November 2004:^[2]

Isabelle concentrates, as I try a selfie
with my heavy camera! 

We checked the first image, I told her to smile!
She did!
Here we were bonding at the funeral home
prior to the service.

The minister explained that
 Josephine & Isabelle
were going to light a candle
in memory of her Grampa Pat.

Memorialization

I have been sitting, with a sore back, watching TV this afternoon. How delightfully decadent, aside from the shooting pain. Most of the big American stations have featured the memorial service for Michael Jackson(1958 - 2002). As Natasha said, on her All in the Mind blog re: Schumann,

"As I mention in the first show, I'm hesitant about the effort to posthumously hunt for signs of mental pathology in the work of artists long gone."

One blogger bemoans the joy and love heaped on the late Michael Jackson .
I wonder why taxpayer dollars went towards the celebration of life in the stadium, but that is another issue! I cannot begrudge the honour anyone bestows on a life. No matter how many children we have, there is enough love to go around. This is true of mourning. We can find enough love for this act: to honour a human being who has passed.

The highway memorials are significant is you travel in Ontario. We must laud those who do good works, aside from the mistake they have made. (Let she who is without sin...) MJ was a philanthropist, and to share your wealth is an honourable thing. There will be much written about the fight over his millions of dollars, and the custody of his children, but, again, many families fight about many things. Those in the spotlight are in an even worse position. It is the public's right, those who helped this family achieve fame and fortune, to mourn and experience their grief. For those who disparage him, they need to turn the page or the channel. I have made mistakes in my life. I hope they will not be held up at my death, for I try to learn from them.

This aforementioned blogger complained that

"Yesterday, seven American servicemen were killed in Afghanistan. Those are the heroes and they are the ones who deserve the coverage."

Again, there is enough coverage for all to be lauded as heroes. I am proud of the ramp ceremonies, as well as the people that line the highway from Trenton as we bring soldier's bodies home in Canada.

For example:

Ramp ceremony farewell for soldiers killed ...7 Jul 2009 ... TheStar.com | Canada | Ramp ceremony farewell for soldiers killed in chopper crash. Ramp ceremony farewell for soldiers killed in chopper ...

Highway convoy rolls to honour fallen Canadian soldiers- 3:13pm31 May 2008 ... Highway convoy rolls to honour fallen Canadian soldiers ... representing the number of fallen soldiers, led the memorial drive, moving under...

Perhaps her disapproval should be directed at American governments that do not allow such in their world. Everyone deserves to have their lives lauded. It is hard to explain the attention. Perhaps, because of all the media hype that has surrounded him in the past. Brooke Shields spoke fondly of their common child performer/media star lives. It cannot have been easy. It is said that he was a perfectionist. he must have been lonely, troubled, and I wonder the lessons we learn from these stories?

Certainly, it is crucial that we honour the good things a person has done. MJ was a philanthropist, aside from his problems later in life. We saw him grow up and, like other entertainers who have died before their time, we wonder why. I, like Sherry, wonders what went wrong in this case. It is something the Americans must ponder.

For all those who mourn, I hope you receive comfort. I hope that you mourn with dignity, respect and in privacy, for MJ's family has no choice in the matter. The family raised their voices in song, as I did at my Mother's service. There was nothing more joyful to her than having us all sing. It is what we did as a family.

My father's service was sparsely attended. It was painful at the time. That others mourn MJs passing may or may not be comforting to those who grieve. He was a public figure. Those who do mourn are to be respected. Those who must take away from such ceremonies should be ashamed. Turn off your TV. I'll be humming the Thriller, he's bad, so bad!, music that had young men and women danced to in the streets, celebrating the spirit of those in the entertainment industry, mimicking their hero, and raising the profile of those who face racism in the US.

Visit RedFridays.ca, to view the memorial pages for fallen Canadian soldiers. We know how to honour our soldiers.