MTM - Murdoch Mysteries

Since the Genies were on this weekend, and they were bemoaning the lack of theatres that show Canadian movies, and since we ought to laud Canadan shows...I thought I would choose a TV Series that features my old town, Toronto. Maureen Jennings, author of the Murdoch Mysteries, has done a fine job on the novels.

This TV series might appeal to those who like mysteries sans blood, guts and gore, quite disparate some of the popular US shows, which I watch! You can check out the official Murdoch Mysteries website here. (Although I think it a somewhat over done web page - for a show set in a simpler time! Not to mention high download times.)

Set in the late 1890s this seems an inventive facet. It is a complication for the police detective who wants to move into more science-based solutions to crime and Inspector Brackenreid who pooh-poohs such modern notions! As they introduce us to a new 'scientific' theories of 'finger marks' (fingerprinting!), blood spatter, toxicology, and lie detector tests, I find it interesting to look into the past. If you like such mystery, with the emphasis on intellect, you might try the Brother Cadfael DVDs.

With a very CSI-like framework, it is a very non-Hollywood take on a simpler time with carefully procured props, fine costuming, and a refined sense of humour. The coroner, acted by Hélène Joy, is a lovely, gentile but bright female, leaving just the slightest hint of romantic interest -- much different than the toned arms and cleavage, and raw sexual content of the new millennium.

I quite enjoy the accents, as well. My son, Jesse Martyn - the actor, having had to master the linguistic timbre of the UK for his professional work, I like to listen to the gentle tones of the various actors.

Murdoch Mysteries have been set in Toronto, and many of Barbara Martin's historical posts and photos remind us of this time. Wikipedia says there is filming in Hamilton and Cambridge, and they seek a new film location since the Toronto location is now closed. The city has changed much and the filmmakers must be hard-pressed to find the fine, old buildings of old, without skyscrapers in the back ground!

The photo above is the old Post Office, I worked there in 1974. To the left is the semi-detached house I grew up in in downtown Toronto. The street, Walker Ave., was named for a great-great grandfather, the homes built on his farm land over 150 years ago. We played ball on the front lawns. Ah, but that is another time, long ago!

NaPoWriMo #5 - 50 words

50 - word pickup check below for my prompt

Your Grief
my dearest
I am so sorry for the death of your child
your pain and despair are familiar songs
songs I remember clearly
you will look back and see a face
mannerisms than remind
hair that fell a certain way when brushed
you will hear their laughter
you will hold these images close
without feeling as if you heart is breaking

this change will come
ever so slowly, imperceptibly
sometimes the time between now and then is hard to endure
your faith in life, happiness, the future may waiver
grab onto anyone and anything that will get you through
do not be strong, logical, sensible,
listen not to the shoulds and the musts
fight not the pain
it will roll over you like a giant tidal wave
allow it to carry you forward
once the pain is spent
dropped gasping on the shore of sanity
it will fade
life will become worth living again

I am a strong swimmer
when you are swallowed up in the backwash
cling to me
close your eyes
feel my love
one mother's love to another
I will reach across the waters
do not forget to reach out
we all have pain
we all have loss
we are never given too much to bear
you are strong and you are loved
joy will come again
these lessons we learn as we love

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not sure I could play today. I didn't find 50 words from a fellow poet! I chose, instead, to choose some words from this post on bereavement. (I just completed my certificate in Foundations of Palliative Care. ) Then changed my mind...
I took a letter written to a mother who had lost a child, found in Elisabeth Kübler Ross' On Children and Death (1983), a powerful, positive message of hope. Bracedridge's Natalia Novak murder has coloured our thinking and out emotions.

It's your fault

She said, "Here it is. Only zero degrees. Friggan' blizzard. I told you it was too soon to come.
You wanted to come early. We could have camped in EG with the horses. What were you thinking?"

He said, "I knew all the good nesting spots would be gone if we didn't get here early. You wanted me to do the plan and I did the travel plan. I always plan the trips."

"I knew there'd be snow. There might be global warming, but it's still April. Tennessee has periwinkle. Bankside has leeks. But oh, no, you had to come. Snow everywhere. This was your dumb idea, get the choice spots..."

"But hon..."

"Don't you 'hon' me. Now, its snowing harder. You said the lake would be open, but there's only one little patch. I'm freezing. "

He said, " C'mon out of the water and stop pouting. Spring will come. The ice will melt off the lake and the clover will grow again. Just be patient dear. "

"Don't you tell me to be patient. I keep praying for patience to hurry up and get here but it hasn't. Mother said we were leaving too early. Remember her telling us about Uncle Ross who came out too early? Never heard from him again."

"Yes, dear. Your mother's always right. You sound just like your mother."

"I'm nothing like my mother. You should be more like your brother, Gilbert."

"But look, dear, we've got clover and cracked corn. We'll be fine. Just suck it up. Oscar & Myrtle are here. We can visit."

"I don't care if the ducks are back. What do the ducks know? My feathers are soaked. The water is cold. I'm up to my nether regions in water. I'm just a mess. You're gonna pay for this. I should have married Gilbert, instead."

"Well, dear..."

"You had a big fight with Anne & Gilbert yesterday, too, that wasn't pleasant. That silly woman videotaped it."

"Now baby. Didn't I buy you a fine meal at Grizzled's place? Didn't you enjoy that? That should hold you over."

"Well, it didn't. Yesterday, Oliver chased you back into the water, she took a photo of that, his favourite mice aren't even out. He's taking it out on us."

"Honey bun, I know we shouldn't have moved from Ottawa. Judy's got crocus. But you didn't like it there. Too many politicians in Ottawa - and civil servants."

"I want to visit Cloudia, in Hawaii. Hawaii doesn't have snow. And how are we supposed to start a family in a snow bank? We should have begun nesting at the river. We had a nice lunch there. We would have been ahead of the crowd. "

"Yes, dear. You're right dear. Well, come up on the dock, love. We can have a nap and a snuggle and you'll feel better!"

"That won't help. It's feather-chilling cold and wet. I've preened and preened and I'm still a mess."

"C'mon, love. You look beautiful to me. Have a nice nap. You know what they say, 'Let sleeping geese lie.' "

And they snored happily on the dock, and they lived happily ever after, ready to create a new nest, new family, in a new season.

~~~~~~~~
Today's post was ghost/guest written by Eva & Eddie, a little the worse for wear.

NaPoWriMo #4: fresh colours

napowrimo #4: fresh paint or make up
Think of a colour...any colour. I used this blog as inspiration, since our hardware stores all close at noon around here!

My late mother - we often gathered on 4/4 for her birthday. She loved her periwinkle, forget-me-nots, & violets. On this day, the anniversary of her 84th birthday, I miss her greatly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colours of your love

today a pure white snow falls
a cosmic joke covers up the promise
even as your body gave up its battle
our lives framed by cancer
rose-coloured glasses buried with you
our faith remained strong

I know you and Spring will return
often my soul tingles
I feel you watching over me
pink forget-me-nots we planted
(as if you would be forgotten)
they spread, like your spirit, over this place
all is forgiven and forgotten

as a nurtured chosen child
you painted principles we hold dear
you coloured our lives
fairytale summers by the lake
thickly brushed stories of love
silver songs of unconditional joy
golden fireflies in the dark
the tinkle bells of hope
sparkle like diamonds
punctuating the saphire sky
all framed in mahogany by faith
never a door closes
but a window opens

seeing me through
trials and tribulations
I gave you much grief
I know in my heart
the indigo periwinkle
will raise their heads
azure violets
will nod to the sun
cerulean forget-me-nots
will carpet the land
black and yellow butterflies
will dance in your garden

a salute to the people you loved
and the land you lauded

~~~~~~~~~~~
“My mother had a great deal of trouble with me but I think she enjoyed it.”

--Mark Twain, American humorist, satirist, lecturer (1835 - 1910)

It's my fault

I put the shovels away - well, actually, I only thought about doing that...I thought that I wouldn't have to shovel again for months.

Several cms on the ground, and the thermometer is hovering around 0˚. It is not surprising, but it is shocking. The clover has an icing sugar topping, if the geese want to get back at it!

The ducks don't look too pleased. A new pair slow over, eying Oscar & Myrtle.

The water is rising, as it tends to do.
I had to move the bench back, the water is running up and down inland in a tide (from the wind). The ice, as you can see, is not off the bulk of the lake. It pushes the water and it is rather soothing.

We are just as happy: no boats or snowmobiles! The sun will return sometime. The seasons, between the cold of the deep winter and the heat of the summer, prepare us for changes to come.

by the numbers...Apr. 4

By the numbers...click on the robin for the meme below.

Anything showing numbers: signs, a child holding up fingers to show how old he is, a number on a shirt, house numbers, whatever..."
I am so pleased that the robins are back, and the temperatures are rising above freezing point.

What is interesting for me is that 4/4 is my late mother's birthday. Born in 1925, she lived a good life well. I often think I must phone her...

The Musical

Edie & Eva (the geese) are here - "Carried Away By Love", as are Oscar & Myrtle (the ducks).

The rain is pouring down today - wet and dreary, even the crocus hide their heads.

Our geese and ducks munch cracked corn and clover by the lake. Yesterday, however, there was a bit of a battle. There was quite a fooferah by our shore...the males ably managed to herd the females away from the other pairs.


Our crew is normally not a problem, until Anne & Gilbert (not the musical!), arrived on "Saturday Morning". I could post a photo of MY feathered Anne & Gilbert, but they all look alike. The original Anne & Gilbert are quite a handsome pair, indeed.

I shall resolve my stress, this 'trouble in paradise', by playing the entire CD and dancing a bit of a jig. My son (Jesse Martyn) is on the CD, as he performed in the show a few years ago. Ahhh...life is good!

NaPoWriMo #3- three in a row

Here we go...day #3!

napowrimo #3: three in a row

This is a good exercise. When I taught Gr. 7/8 writing I had much fun creating such assignments. The kids worked on and edited each other's work. It massaged our classroom community into a synergy of creative endeavour.

We have three adult children & three cats...

Three

immeasurable joy
irreplaceable value
shaping my life
more riches than I might have sought
nurturing as I am nurtured
learning
loving
leaving

all took flight
with roots and wings
beginnings of new life and rich love
firm foundations of mustn'ts and shouldn'ts
evolved into songs of praise
the future becomes the present
the cycle unfolds as it should


furry three

all rescued from ignorant humanity
three rescued me
with love
as with dependence
they bless as they receive
doe-eyes signify their joy
that loving nudge against my calves
a murmured mrrrp of affection
drawing my attention

after broken dates with Mr. Sandman
snuggles of comfort and warmth
soft cuddles in the dark
hopeful touches in the night
furry souls anchor my wandering spirit
we embrace in blankets of security

NaPoWriMo #2: stretchy metaphors

Prompt for Day #2.

"Find five verbs and five nouns from one subject area, and use them to write about another subject. The idea is to create an extended metaphor in a short poem, of maybe ten to twelve lines."

Harder than it looks!

n.
infant, bride, groom, minister, funeral
v.
marry, baptize, give birth, dying,
~~~~~~~~

The poem attributes its birth
To the minister who massages the poem
In its infancy
We massage it into life
Marry words, baptize ideas,
Give birth to notions
We hatch, match and dispatch
Rhythm and rhyme
After the funeral
We cease dying
We throw it up to the universe
Renewed

Recreation of an accident scene

This is a very thoughtful video. I thought it worth sharing. As our seasonal visitors return to Muskoka, and tourists begin to return in the shoulder season, traffic will increase. I am increasingly passed on double lines by those in a rush. Those visiting their cottage need to remember that there is always time in Central Ontario, animals frequent the highway, and that we need to slow down.

Drinking and driving, too, is a choice. But we can all be responsible and make others accountable.

Everyone heals in their own way. Some of us want more information than others. I wrote about all the drownings, accidents and the lack of safe drinking, boating and driving habits in Muskoka. We are all responsible. We have to convince young and old to respect marine and land laws: snowmobile and traffic laws regarding safety and speed on water and highways. Wear your lifejackets, be safe, play safe, use good judgement. Click on the icon at left to see the other videos, and read more about the impact on a family.

The Reconstructionist from The Message In The Bottle on Vimeo.

On July 3rd, 2008 in Muskoka, Ontario three young men (Cory Mintz, 20, Tyler Mulcahy, 20 and Kourosh Totonchian, 19) died in a car accident that involved alcohol. This video shows the recreation of the accident scene. It is a powerful message.