An Elusive Quest

With the advent of the inauguration of Barack Obama, I think now that the world can take a deep breath. I’ve never spent so much time dwelling on the politics of the United States, both watching, listening and even reading till my eyeballs pop. I’m even half way through a book written by Barack Obama, “The Audacity of Hope”, great book by the way. Such has been the excitement generated by this once in a lifetime historical event.

I think the last time I got so excited over a political leader was in this country, Pierre Elliot Trudeau and prior to that, was obviously JFK stateside. Amazing how at different points in history these men and women take centre stage and shine that light, one so bright you can hardly ignore it.

I have had the privilege in my lifetime to have lived and seen a number of those great statesmen, of course the one that really stands out for me when I was a child, Sir Winston Churchill. Who could ever mistake his importance to the history of his time, along with many, many more of that era. Such were the deeds accomplished by so many brave people of all countries and from all walks of life, during those war years known as WW11.

The war to end all wars is what they preached at that time, of course we all know that somebody somewhere along the line wasn’t listening. The resulting conflicts that have taken place since are getting too many to count, people just never seem to learn, no doubt that will eventually bring the final demise of mankind as we know it……… Come on people wake up and smell the coffee.

This week saw the beginning of a new era and hopefully a new road to walk, let’s walk it hand in hand, peacefully.

In Canada, we do have I believe another great politician in the making, not quite ready yet, but one day, this man will be the prime minister of Canada just like his father, I am talking of course of Justin Trudeau..

Good luck Barack in your search for the golden grail, peace in our lifetime.

C'ya

Lest We Forget

In" Flanders Field," if you should go,
You'll see the gravestones, row on row
In fields of green and poppies red,
Rest all the boys that we once bred,


And as you stand and listen long,
Perhaps you'll hear, their voice in song.
Remember long, remember sad,
All the boys, that we once had


Remember lives, that they once filled,
But now they rest, in "Flanders Field"
The boys who all went down in song,
Through the mud and blood, to fields beyond.


So each year it's remembrance time,
Remember boys, both yours and mine
Think of the wars, whence they all died,
Take a look at today, was it justified


The "Vets" now, they are just a few,
To forget them all, will just not do.
Young ones, they must not forget,
The men that died, the blood they"Let".


In "Flanders Field" for you should go
To see the graves, stood row on row
Think of the wars, think of the greed,
Ask yourself, is this what we need.


A lesson learned, we hope and pray
So no more wars, least not today
The young ones now, our guardians are
And with some luck, they'll take us far.


In "Flanders Field " if you should go,
To see the graves stood row on row
Think of the boy's who are now a vet,
Make sure that you do "Not Forget "

Eric Valentine Nov 11/93©

Jack Sprat

Tonight we sat down to a delicious supper of orange-glazed pork chops, served with scalloped potatoes and cabbage as a vegetable.
During the course of the meal, I noticed Elizabeth cutting away a little bit of the fatty part of the chop. On seeing that I said to her that, that was one of the tastiest parts of the meat, but she wasn’t going to buy that one from me. That’s when the following nursery rhyme came into my head, which I quoted to my honey. I was surprised to hear that she had never heard it before, so I promptly googled it and showed it to her. The history of how that particular rhyme came to be was what I found interesting.

Jack Sprat

Jack Sprat could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
And so betwixt the two of them
They licked the platter clean.

Origin can be found in British History:

The Jack alluded to is in fact reputed to be Charles I and Henrietta Maria, his Queen. Apparently, when King Charles declared war on Spain, parliament refused to finance him (leaving him lean!) So his wife imposed an illegal war tax (to get some fat!) after the angered King dissolved Parliament. The first publication date for the lyrics of this nursery rhyme can be traced to 1639.

This is the recipe for a taste sensation.

Orange-Glazed Pork Chops

Prep: 15 min.
Bake 30 min.

1 teaspoon cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon water
¼ cup orange marmalade
1 tablespoon lime juice
1-½ teaspoon olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
2 bone-in pork chops
(¾ inch thick)
1 small lime, thinly sliced

In a small saucepan, combine the cornstarch, ginger, soy sauce and water until small. Stir in the marmalade, lime juice, oil and garlic until blended. Bring to a boil; cook and stir mixture for 1-2 minutes or until thickened.
Place the pork chops in a greased 8 inch baking dish. Spoon glaze over pork; turn to coat. Top with the lime slices. Bake, uncovered, @ 400 for 30-40 minutes or until pork juices run clear. Yield: 2 servings. ~ Enjoy ~

Bon appetit!

C'ya

The Picture On The Wall

Ancestry

I had a pleasant surprise not too long ago. It was an email basically, from someone I didn’t know. It turned out though, that through a series of circumstances, I find I am now a relative of this lady. My brother had some kids, two boys and a girl. They are long ago grown up to be adults, and my brother is now deceased. It seems that one of his boys met a girl and they had a child between them, a girl. The email was from the girls mother and she asked me if I could help her out with some information. She is trying to put one of these ancestry records together to give to her daughter, that way she will always have a keepsake of her roots. Seeing as I am the last surviving member of my immediate family, I would be her only direct living source of help.

It is amazing really what turns up once you get started into something like that. With the documentation that I was able to come up with along with Julie. We have put together information going as far back as six generations. The very thought of that blows me away, on top of that I had photographs of most all of them so far. Thanks to Julie, there is a whole new aspect of my life that I had overlooked until she opened that door.

Of course what seems so ironical is, I have been writing about a lot of family things in my blog. I have a large picture of my biological father, grandfather and grandmother. Of course also pictures of my mother and other members of my family and some kids. That’s quite a pot of Irish stew! Even though we’re not Irish, at least at this point it would be closer to Welsh.

With the picture of my Father, there is a story attached to that. My dad died when I was a baby of two, and my mother never remarried until I was ten. I had never seen a picture of my father before not ever! In 1969 my step-father died, so I flew home for his funeral. Whenever I went to England I always made it a 3 week trip or else it wasn’t worth the expense of going from here. My mother called me into the sitting room before I left to come back here. She had something to show me that she had kept hidden all my life. It was the picture of my biological father hidden behind another picture, it had been hanging on that wall all those years! I was almost 37 yrs old at that time and she had never said a word about it. Now with the advent of her death, I have that picture today. Pretty strange no matter how you want to look at it. Even after all these years I am still amazed.

Tea time!

C’ya

COPD ~ What’s in a Regulator

Tuesday was the last day for the rehab program again. On this occasion I finally managed to make it, which lately is a miracle in itself! Tuesday is also the day that my delivery of oxygen arrives. This week my guy came with a new surprise, a new and different type of regulator for portable use.
I had always been on a continuous flow line before, this one is what they call a pulse feed. That means you only get oxygen when the body calls for it. Inhale, exhale. It has been said that on continuous feed using a cannula, a patient only gets 60% of the oxygen and loses the rest, what a waste. Tuesday and each day since I have been trying out this new gadget. The amazing result is, instead of a small tank only lasting 3 ½ hours, ~ with the pulse the tank lasts for 10 hours! Being on impulse feed also means you get all 100% of the oxygen that you inhale. Amazing indeed!

Boy! Why can’t they invent something like this for Auto gasoline consumption! Now THAT would really be something!

After rehab was over, I was waiting for the wife to bring the truck round from the parking lot. As I stood there and older couple also came along and greeted me. He was a member of the rehab group but I really hadn't talked much with him at all during the program, his wife was with him for support. One thing had led to another and imagine my amazement when I found that they both were in their eighties! For some strange reason the 2nd world war came up. It seems that both this couple were war survivors and she a POW at that! Wow! We got talking about that topic and my blog topics, he in turn related he was writing a book based on his wartime experiences. As the wife arrived, they had to get going for the couple had a board meeting to attend. Wishing them luck, I walked away shaking my head. Such a small world! Such beautiful people.

C'ya

A Sign Of The Times

The little town sits nestled between the hills; surrounded by a wealth of flora that nature endows. Trees, forests and fields of green, here and there a fast running stream. A small town like any other, situated anywhere in North America. Still but an unobtrusive place, bordering on two highways, dividing East and West, North and South.

This place although small, still has a few surprising revelations. I have never seen so many churches clustered around such a small populace. This town is what I like to term ‘industrially challenged’ for jobs are about zero! Until more recent developments took place, one of the most beautiful places here was the cemetery. That sounds crazy I know, but that place really was well thought out with the end result being a thing of beauty, a paradise of a resting place. The whole area is laid out with small rippling hills and trees and shade, a place to take your breath away.

We have an old guy who lives alone in the upstairs apartment. His name is Bob. I think his most striking feature is his thick tawny snow white hair and talkative nature. The guy is a real happy go lucky character and he‘s quite harmless. He’s 74 yrs old, bordering on the edge of Alzheimer’s and hasn’t an apparent care in the World. ~

It's not that he doesn't have any family for he does. They just don't seem to want to bother with him or are afraid to take any responsibility for Bob. As a result he never gets family visits or company, other than at Xmas and his birthday. Then it's just the dutiful visit with an equally dutiful gift.
I have watched him with his gifts and the way he shows them off. He’s almost like a child in his excitement, it is sad really. His gifts usually consist of some socks, maybe a pair of jeans, sometimes a cheaper winter jacket, or slippers.

It's almost as if that because of his Alzheimer’s, Bob has forgotten he even has any family and it seems they choose to forget him. Sadly this kind of treatment of older folks doesn't seem that unusual anymore these days. A sign of the times.

I know he really gets pretty lonely ocassionally, but he always greets cheerfully anyone he bumps into and then launches into a story, given half a chance.

He doesn’t remember peoples names or the fact he already told you that same story a hundred times before. It’s a shame really, but regardless I take the time to listen to him.

Because we live in a small town in the midst of nowhere, Bob is therefore, a town character pretty well known by everybody who’s ever walked down main-street. A real coffin dodger teetering on the edge with one foot in the box! If you will!

His daily routine is so fixed, you can set your clock by him each time you see him go by. He likes to watch “Price is Right” on TV at 11am and one minute after the program finishes you can see him headed down the street.

He has a variety of interests, that are usually dictated by what day of the week it is. He has days for doing shopping and another for when he does laundry.

He rarely passes a local store without popping his head in and has a jovial greeting for everyone in there.

One thing he never misses though is his visit to the local hotel for a few beers each day. On most occasions, you can tell if he’s had one too many, 4pm you will usually see him headed towards home. Most people turn and watch him doing his version of the chicken dance, as he skips boisterously, merrily singing and dancing down the street, some folks even cheer him on, that really makes him incorrigible, and not a care in the World.

A happy man really isn’t quite the term for Bob, but that’s him and who can knock him for that! ~

Way to go there Buddy!! ~

C’ya