Archive for November, 2010

By Sue Ricketts 

     On Friday, I listened to a young lady of twenty-six talk to my Rotary Club about her need for a new heart. She wore a backpack which contained the backup and batteries for the artificial heart stimulator which keeps her alive. She carries a beeper and if it goes off she has exactly two hours to be in Toronto and ready to receive the gift of life – a new heart.

     No one in her family had ever had heart trouble but about four years ago she had shortness of breath and weakness. She went to her doctor who did tests and found that the left side of her heart has only twenty percent function. She was given medication and for a year and a half was treated but she never really understood the seriousness of her condition.

     She was young and in love and planning her marriage to a fine young man. On the big day, in the midst of the ceremony she collapsed and was taken to St. Mary’s hospital in Kitchener. She was stabilized by a new doctor and sent to Toronto where she was properly diagnosed and they implanted the stimulator which would keep her alive. She was very, very near death’s door. According to the doctors she had a day or two, maybe only hours left without the artificial heart.

     They had a honeymoon in the hospital. She got to throw her bouquet and toast with Champagne but she’s been carrying that backpack since then.

     Did you know that about 20% of Ontarians have signed their donor cards on their drivers license but probably as small as 2% will ever actually donate organs? Their family may override their decision through fear, superstition or because the medical staff won’t ask in time.

     Medical staff will always do their best to prolong life for everyone, even if they have signed a consent form. At the funeral, no one will ever know. I’ve never seen a body at a funeral with their eyes open or without clothes, so how would I ever know? Any donated organs are always tested for disease so as not to pass on anything compromising. Your never too old. The oldest donor to date was over 100 when her corneas were transplanted to give another person sight.

     Looking at the face of that beautiful young woman, I felt that it is far too soon for her to die. If she could be helped it would be the best gift in the world. Survival today is pretty much guaranteed for transplant survivors. We have one member of our club who has had a double lung transplant and is three years on and doing very well. I know it means that someone must die for anyone to get the gift but hundreds of people across Canada die every day and are put into graves or cremated without any harvesting done at all. Far too many people die while on a waiting list to receive an organ.

     If you want to ensure your wishes will be carried out, go the Ontario Government website and type in organ donations to find the form which you can use to register and be certain that no one can change your choice.

     Mitch and Callum had been back from their first Rescue Mission for a couple of weeks when Callum came zooming up onto the screened veranda at Mitch’s place on his motorized skateboard. Mitch’s Mom was reading the latest news on her swing. The hot part of the day was coming on fast as the sun rose to the noon hour.

     Callum still looked a bit like a pirate with the top of his earlobe notched from the bullet which had grazed his head while rescuing the forty lost souls from the coastal islands of upstate New York. He sported a bandage around his head to cover the wound left by the bullet’s path along his scalp. And, of course, being Callum, he’d found a black eye patch to enhance the effect.

      Mitch started to come out onto the porch carrying a plateful of food which he had been making for himself in the kitchen, then he turned around and went back for more knowing that Cal would be starved as usual. Cousins always know stuff like that about each other.

      When he finally came and stretched out on the deck, Callum was telling Mrs. Grant about this strange kid from their latest batch of refugees. The kid hung out at the hospital all the time he was being treated. He never talked to anyone. At first it was funny, but lately it was getting spooky because he was always following Callum everywhere. The kid never said anything, he just watched and sometimes he stood there waving his hands around. It was really weird. He said that’s why he had come in such a hurry. He was pretty tired of being shadowed.

     Mitch and Callum fell to eating the food, as only young men can do and eventually started playing video games on their PDAs. Mom called out to them after a while and asked if they would come out front for a minute. She pointed down the road where they could see a ragged figure walking along the hardtop. He had a broad-brimmed hat slouched down to keep the sun from frying his skin but he had no shoes or boots on. Cal confirmed that this was the one who had been following him.

     This kid had refused to go up north with the rest of the refugees when they went to safer, dryer places. Nobody had paid much attention and he didn’t get any clothing chits because he just stayed in the background, didn’t line up and wouldn’t talk to anyone.

     As they watched he reached the end of their lane and stopped looking confused and a bit forlorn. He raised his hands and started doing something with his fingers. “He’s doing that thing again.”, said Callum. “What’s the matter with him?”

     Mom watched closely and then walked over to the veranda steps where she could be seen plainly from the laneway. Slowly and hesitantly she started doing the same thing with her hands. To the amazement of Mitch and Callum, the stranger watched and started in when she stopped.

     “It’s sign language, guys. I think this boy is deaf. I’m inviting him to come over and have something to eat and drink. He must be cooking out in the sun.”

     Since neither of them had every seen anyone using it, Mrs. Grant explained that this is how people who can’t hear talk to others. She had learned it because her best friend at school had gotten sick and couldn’t hear after that. Her friend’s parents didn’t have medical coverage so they couldn’t afford to find treatment. She got by in the world using her hands and reading lips. The school teachers had made the whole class learn how to use American Sign Language to make her feel part of everything until she learned to comfortably read lips. Mom’s friend had lost communication with the whole world and needed her friends to help her get along.

     Mitch went back inside to make something else to eat and fetch some lemonade. Callum followed him to get some ointment for the boys feet which were blistered from the tar on the road.

      “Why doesn’t this guy have boots?” asked Mrs. Grant.

     “He never picked up the chits to get them at the Centre,” shouted Mitch from the kitchen. “I just don’t know why not.”

     “He probably couldn’t understand anything. It often takes a while to read the lips of strangers,” his Mom replied. Turning to the arrival she smiled, signed and said slowly, “My name is Mrs. Grant. I’m Mitch’s Mom. What’s your name?”

     Soon the two of them were seated together “talking” with their hands. It stopped when Mitch brought out the food. The stranger took the food and gulped down his drink and held it out for more. He ate even faster than the fellows had before. He was starved and thirsty. Through Mrs. Grant he explained that he hadn’t eaten much since coming here because he didn’t know where to go or what to do. He hadn’t understood the welcoming remarks and instructions given because he was too far away to read anyone’s lips. Everyone had been made to stand in a line and someone came along looking in their mouths and ears. Taking their temperatures and asking questions which he couldn’t understand. So he just backed away and tried to become invisible until he could figure things out.

     When Callum started putting the ointment on his feet he noticed the stranger’s arms and legs were covered with bites and scratches. Some of them were raw looking, so he just continued salving everywhere until the boy began to look more comfortable.

     “His name is Daniel.” said Mrs. Grant, “And he really looks exhausted. Mitch, why don’t you show him where the spare cot is and let him sleep? Cal, you go in the back room closet and see if you can find some boots. Oh, and check the trunk there too and see if you can’t find some better clothes which might fit him.

     When Mitch showed the newcomer to the room with the cot, Daniel just crumpled down on it and didn’t wake up for 24 hours. When he did, he smelled hotcakes and coffee. There was plenty of good food waiting. He found the bathroom and showered and dressed gratefully in the fresh clothes. He put on the boots which had been left beside the bed.

     Everyone just sat and watched him with smiles on their faces when he finally came into the kitchen. As he finished his third helping, Daniel looked up and saw that both of the boys where using their hands to sign to him. One asked if he’d like some more to eat. The other said they wanted to hear how he got to the place they’d found him. He quickly signed for them to talk one at a time as he couldn’t see both of them at one time.

     Daniel signed to ask for a computer pad so that he could write down the story for them. Signing was very slow and would take too long. He was still worn out by what he had survived. But, before he would start typing, he asked them to promise that he could come with them on the next trip back to look for more refugees to save.

     Mitch and Callum looked at each other in surprise. Why would he want to go back to such a terrible place where survival was not guaranteed and life was very hard? Mitch promised to ask his Father and Uncle Benjie to put in the request with the Chief and see what could be done.

     Finally, the silent boy started tapping out his story and the boys and Mrs. Grant all sat down behind him where they could read as he wrote.

Here is Daniel’s Tale:

     When I was nearly nine years old, my parents volunteered to go to Africa as Missionaries and teachers. They took me and my little sister Mara along and we lived in a very poor village in a hut just like the locals. An epidemic of rubella measles ran through the village after about a year and both Mara and I went deaf after many days of fever. We were way out on the savannah and there were no medical places to go for treatment. By the time, Mama and Papa could take us to Johannesburg our hearing loss was irreversible.

     After much discussion, it was decided that we would be sent home to America – to New York City to a special school who would teach us how to get along in a hearing world. They would also test to see if we might be candidates for Cochlear implants which might restore our hearing. It was hoped that the church society which had sent my parents so far from home would cover the costs for us.

     By the time we were put on an airplane, I was ten and Mara was almost four. We were met by someone from the church and taken to the school for the hearing. They left word that our tuition was to be covered but we had to wait whie the Synnod decided about covering the implants. The next two years were spent learning to get by, going to school and having tests done periodically. It seems I am not a good candidate but Mara would be able to hear again. Eventually, the Synod approved the treatment and she had the device implanted. It took the better part of a year for her to get used to hearing again. At first she was frightened and scared of all noises. She wouldn’t let her big brother out of her sight. She was afraid to sleep alone at night and couldn’t rest peacefully for a long time.

     You remember that in 2018 there was a huge hurricane on the coast with waves which rose about 13 stories high? Well, the day it arrived the whole school of 28 kids and our teachers were on a field trip to the Empire State Building. Nobody believed the weathermen when they said this storm would be the worst ever. Us kids didn’t know anything about it at all but the teachers did. We were up on the one hundred and first floor looking out the windows when the really big waves started crashing into the city. That building swayed and shook and swayed some more. We were screaming and the little ones cried for their Mama’s. We watched the streets disappear under water and were horrified as water sloshed back and forth around the buildings. The lights went out and the elevators didn’t work. Even the backups don’t work when they’re under water.

     The storm lasted three days and we lived by breaking open the vending machines located on three floors. As the storm passed, the tides just didn’t go back to normal. The first six floors were under water. There was another disaster when we tried to use the stairs to go down to lower floors before the storm was over. The winds didn’t abate quickly and the building still swayed unpredictably. Three of the teachers had just taken off when the storm started and we never saw them again. Mike Barnes stayed with us but it was hard for him to safeguard twenty-eight kids from four to fourteen years old in the dark and cold.

     On one of the sudden unexpected swings of the building one of the girls fell through the bars and there was nothing any of us could do except watch her fall. Another little one hit his head against the cement wall and we tried but couldn’t stop his bleeding. All we could find were little first aid kits which couldn’t stitch him together. He died slowly from blood loss and infection.

     When that awful storm finally blew itself out, we slowly made our way down to the waterline and waited. Two more days went by before a boat came sailing up 5^th Avenue and heard us shouting from the windows we broke.

     We sailed inland up the river which was much wider than it had been. When we looked down we could see buildings and roads beneath us. The boat Captain said that the tunnels were half a mile beneath water and would never be usable again. They fed us but had no new clothes and then sailed as far inland as they could and told us to get off the boat and follow the sun west as far as we could go.

     We managed to survive for sixty days as we slept most days in the forest and walked all night trying to stay on roads when we could. The older students carried the little ones. Each of us took responsibility for another. Of course, I watched Mara and because she could hear she became vital to our survival as she could hear the sound of someone coming where we could not. Often the roads were full of other refugees who were dazed and unsure, just like us. They pushed their few belongings in wagons and carts and on bicycles because most of the gas stations had no fuel or were controlled by the gangs who had guns and other weapons. Sometimes, there were roadblocks were gangs took everything people had in order to let them through. Behind us the waters slowly crept up higher and higher.

     I’m pretty sure that it was the sixtieth day, because Mike Barnes told us that we had been on the road for two months now. That night I saw that Mike had a fever and he was sweating and very red in the face. I remembered the measles and was afraid that we would all get sick again. He assured us that it was probably his feet which were blistered and bleeding even more than our own. We helped him out of his boots which had holes in the soles and saw that his toes were purple and oozing green stuff. We camped for a few days and asked passersby for medicine but they had none and so Mike Barnes passed away in great pain not long after.

     When Mike died we didn’t think about the batteries for Mara’s implant. Soon she heard less and less and finally nothing at all. The oldest two, a boy named Marcus and a girl named Elle, took over. We dug a shallow grave and even made a cross with “Mike Barnes, Teacher of the Deaf” printed in our best script. We didn’t know what else to do but keep on walking west and north in hope of finding somewhere safe.

     Our only hope was Mara as she could hear and was best able to talk to outsiders. When her hearing started to disappear we were all frightened. Now we had no hearing person.

     Eventually, we came across a shopping mall which was abandoned and had been looted before we got there. Inside we found some castoff sweaters and a few curtains. We made backpacks from the curtains and fashioned rain protection from plastic ones. We also took enough to use as tents and blankets to try to get warm.

     Mara wandered into a book store and found a book called Sleeping Beauty. It had lots of coloured pictures and she stuffed it into her pack. Mara’s backpack was made from a plastic shower curtain, yellow with big green frogs on it. She was so happy to have it. She said one of them would be her lucky frog who would turn into a Prince and save us all.

     When a gang came into the parking lot on motorcycles we felt the ground tremble. We tried to ran out the back but because none of us could hear we didn’t avoid them. As we ran pell mell out towards the buildings at the back, the motorcycles raced around us hitting some of us and leaving them bleeding on the ground. They realized we couldn’t hear them coming and they thought it was sport. I know they were laughing because none of us ran out of their way.

     One of them spotted Mara’s backpack and pointed at her. He came up beside us and just grabbed her away from me as he roared by. They took off and were gone from sight within minutes. I started running after them but couldn’t keep up and lost sight of them soon. I should have gone back to the others but I had to find Mara. It was my job to take care of her and I failed.

     In the next two weeks I kept going, asking people along the way to tell me where the ‘cycle gang had gone. I had to use sign language and write in the dust on the ground to make them understand. That’s what I was doing when I met up with the people on the top of the mountain and had to beg food from them. They fed me but then made me work for them and they tied me up when I wasn’t working so that I wouldn’t run away. That’s when you found us and brought us here.

     I didn’t know anyone and couldn’t understand much, but I recognized the Pirate and followed him to see if he could take me back to look for my little sister. I must go back to find Mara. She’s only eight and she won’t survive on her own.

 By Sue Ricketts

      It’s now the sixteenth warmest year in a row as far as the weather folk’s records go. There hasn’t been any snow south of Lake Michigan for years. Mitch Gable has just celebrated his twenty-first birthday. There was a big party out on the lawn and the date was January 21^st. Twenty-one on the twenty-first of the first month in 2021 seemed like a special date.

     The grownups stayed mostly on the verandah behind the screens while Mitch’s cousins and school friends all hung out by the water so they could go swimming. Mom said the lake was nearly 10 miles away when she was a kid. Now it’s 500 yards away. Mitch didn’t know whether to believe her or not. There wasn’t a lot to eat but they provided the drink and since everybody brought something they put it all together and shared a real feast. At least it sure felt that way to Mitch.

     Everyone dressed up as cowboys. The main event was trying to lasso a fencepost that Uncle Walt had stuck up in the middle of the yard. It was a lot harder than it looked. Callum McCabe seemed to do it effortlessly which really impressed all the girls. He seemed to have to spend a lot of time holding the girls arms to teach them just how to swing the rope and aim it for the top of the wood. In truth, Mitch was a bit jealous and wished he could have stood behind Janice North and taught her a thing or two. It was the best time they’d had in a long time.

     When the last of them left with cheers and laughter, Mitch came in to help his parents clean up and pull up the long sliding walkways which would stop the snakes and other critters from coming into the house which was built on stilts. Up to a few years back nobody would have thought that this kind of house would be necessary here. There had never been a swamp at this elevation before.

     Very early, Dad told him to go get some sleep because Callum and his Pa , Uncle Benjie, would be coming by at 4:30 AM. Mitch was excited and a bit scared. Tomorrow would be his first day as a Rescuer. It would be his and Callum’s first ride in a helicopter. Although they’d spent most of the year taking basic training so that they built up their strength to carry the 50 pound backpacks which contained food, medicine and a change of clothes for them while riding the motorized skate boards over the wet soggy ground, the truth was he wondered if he’d be as brave as Dad and the other men when faced with some half crazy person who was starving and desperate to survive in the dangerous areas along the coasts. He sure hoped he would do it right when the time came.

     The chopper was really loud and tinny sounding when the 8 Rescuers and the pilot got on board before dawn while the stars shone brightly over head. They spent time watching the mists swirl below them as they flew just above tree height. It was nearly three hours of flying east before they reached the mountains which really looked more like islands because most of the valleys were filled with newly formed lakes.

     The Pilot, Jake, told them that this was upstate New York where most of the people from New York, Boston, and places in between had come when the ocean began to rise. There just wasn’t enough land to grow food or keep livestock here. At the same time The Mississippi River was now nearly four times as wide as it had been in the north and in the south, whole states were gone due to the Atlantic and the Caribbean taking over the low-lying lands. Odds were that in the next ten to twenty years the Prairies would once again be under water as the scientists said they had been for thousands of years.

     Rescuers had two jobs to do. Their first job was to sight the land and make decisions on where dykes, levees and other water barriers might be worth installing. It was obvious to most citizens now that the scientists just hadn’t pushed hard enough about global warming. Waters were rising all around the globe and they had to save as much as they could for themselves.

     When Mitch saw the devastation of the countryside for the first time he couldn’t believe it was the same place he had seen pictures of in school. The rampant vegetation was more like the tropics than North America. Many of the buildings in cities were abandoned and vine covered if they were visible above the water at all.

     The second part of their job was rescuing those who had not been taken up in the first waves of migrants who flooded to the high places. This part of the job could be dangerous because there were a lot of gangs who had weapons and felt they could steal food and other things rather than work to grow or make their own. Sometimes the Rescuers were policemen or soldiers trying to stop the worst of them from preying on people who were just trying to survive themselves. Sometimes they conducted raids to free those who were enslaved by the gangs. Mostly they rescued a few souls at a time and brought them back to civilization.

     Besides those survival backpacks of their own, they wore Kevlar bodysuits to protect themselves. They wore face masks of soft cloth specially treated to keep the fungus and other growths out of their resperatory systems. The long high boots and thick leather gloves were to keep any snakes from attacking and biting them when they were wading through the low lands. In other words, they were never going to be recognized by others. Many of the people they tried to help would run away in fear at the sight of them and they had to go hunting to find them to rescue.

     They landed on a small plateau about a mile from the water’s edge and used their infrared scanners to look for human warm body signatures. There were 20 of them up near a stone outcropping a ten minute walk up slope. They could see the heat signatures of some animals with them. The chatter was that this might be an easy rescue and six were assigned to make contact and get the survivors to come down to the chopper for food, medicine and maybe even convince them to come back to civilization.

   Callum and Mitch were assigned to stay with the Jake and get things laid out to examine the new people for sickness or injury and feed them. They were warned to keep their sidearms with them at all times, loaded and ready for action. By now the sun was up and it was getting hot. They were itchy inside the suits as sweat built up but they knew to never to take anything off while in the field. They had been warned over and over again.

      The three of them congregated in the shade of the chopper and the boys told Jake about the party yesterday. Jake said he wished he could have come but he had flown another mission to take some refugees up north to the stoney highlands of Canada where they would have room to build and survive. He told them how welcoming things were and talked about all the things which still existed there. It sounded like a dream; movies, restaurants, paved roads, normal cities. Jake said there were lots of real pretty girls up there too who just loved to hear stories about Rescuers.

     Calllum went into the chopper to get the ration trays and came out with his arms full. Mitch wandered after Jake and started to get some food rations out. They had about ten crates out on the ground when Jake yelled at them to take cover. Callum stood up and started looking around. There was a shotgun fired and he fell down. Mitch was closer to the crates and dived behind them, pulling out his sidearm. It was not just a revolver but a cross between a revolver and a rifle and the range could be adjusted to as much as 500 feet away. In the hands of a marksman, it was accurate. In the hands of a frightened boy, maybe not. 
    

     Jake yelled from the cockpit that there were ten people down toward the waterline who probably had come from a boat which was anchored down there. There were another twelve people in the boat. He told Mitch to keep firing and tossed out another 2 sidearms and three grenades and yelled that he had to take off. Mitch knew that was protocol. The helicopter couldn’t be lost or the whole crew would die. At least there were crates for protection. Just as the chopper took off with a loud roar, Jake threw out a small infrared so that Mitch would have a chance.

     When the dust cleared, Mitch peeked around the side and saw that Callum’s face was covered in blood and he was trying to crawl towards the crates. Without even thinking, Mitch grabbed a grenade and jumped up and ran to Callum’s side. Someone started shooting at him and little dust clouds started snaking their way towards him. He stood quickly and pulled the pin and threw the grenade as far as he could in the direction of the shooter. Ducking down he got his hands under Callum’s shoulders and pulled as hard as he could to get back behind the crates.

     Callum was about the same height as Mitch but outweighed him by a good 30 pounds. He never could explain how he managed to tow him to safety before the shooting started again. Jake, who watched helplessly from a safe distance high above, said it was just like greased lightning. Mitch seemed to be making a semi-circle of the crates within seconds. Then he stopped long enough to see if Callum was still breathing. There was a very weak pulse. A bullet had passed through the top part of his earlobe and ripped open his scull on the left side. Mitch couldn’t take the time to seal the wounds so he just shoved his backpack under Callum and turned on the infrared.

     To his horror he saw that there were still ten people coming at him. They had split up into three groups and were circling around to come at him from three sides. The boys’ backs were to a steep drop with no protection behind them. The thought struck him that he wasn’t a very good pitcher when he threw the grenade because he hadn’t hurt anyone. Mitch saw two of them turn away and start going back down toward the waterside. He was glad there were less of them, but was still scared to death because he was outnumbered so badly.

     He peered around the crates and saw the ration trays lying on the ground where Callum had dropped them. They were about twelve yards away. He stood up and started yelling at the people coming at him. “There’s food there! In the boxes! You can have it all. I promise not to shoot at you again. Just don’t shoot at me or the helicopter will have to fire at you.” He just stood there and kept yelling the same message over and over again. Strangely, no one fired at him and the poor souls just stared for a few minutes. Then one of them put down his gun and edged out of the undergrowth slowly making for the ration trays. No one else moved until he sat down and opened up a tray and ate some of the food inside. When he smiled and shouted to the others that it was good food they raced over to tear open the rations and stuff themselves. You could tell they hadn’t had food in a long time.

     It didn’t take long for the people down at the waterline to come up the slope in search of their partners. There were 6 women and 6 children who were dirty and in rags along with those who had gone back for them. They looked longingly at the ration trays which by now were mostly empty. Mitch stood up and opened one of the crates beside him which contained more food. He walked half way and put them on the ground. It took no time at all before the women and children were ripping open trays to help themselves.

     Eventually the rest of the crew came down the mountain with another twenty people who were just as ragged and skinny as the first bunch. They all had runny noses and were coughing badly. The crew was amazed to see the carnage that the grenade had created and the people sitting silently on the ground with full stomachs. By that time, Mitch had bandaged Callum’s head and stopped the bleeding. Everyone sat frightened as the big chopper landed again. The crew surrounded them and made sure that they didn’t run away.

     Soon the medical kits were put into use for the refugees and warm shirts were passed out to most of them. There weren’t enough to go around but those who got them shared their castoff rags with the others. It took three trips to bring all of them back to civilization. That was one of the largest one day rescues recorded in a long time.

     Mitch got a medallion presented by the Chief for his actions that day. They gave it when he came back from a mission to take “his” refugees up to Canada to start a new life. And yes there were quite a few very pretty girls who wanted to meet a Rescuer and hear a few tales.

by Sue Ricketts

     Each year, it happens anew. Sometimes I dread it’s coming and others I enjoy the anticipation while I wait for it’s quiet first arrival of the year.

     I am a summer persongenerally. I enjoy lying back on the swing or lounging in a lawn chair in the shade while reading or working on my computer and sipping a cool drink. But somewhere in September, nights start to get cooler and by October plants and trees begin the process of turning themselves off. They gradually stop feeding their leaves the chlorophyll which keeps them green and begin to save it to feed their roots and trunks through the cold season.

     Where I live, we are fortunate enough to enjoy the beautiful effects that happen because of the changes in the weather. The leaves turn many shades of red, orange, brown and light green, almost to shades of white in some cases. Sugar maples blaze red and orange with colour and can be seen for miles. Another few favourites of mine are the brilliant blood red sumac and the deep purple viburnum.

     But there is a price we pay for that glorious riot of colour each year. After a while the winds shift and begin to blow from the northwest and as the stems of the leaves weaken they are blown around and down from their perch atop branches. The winds bring cold rains and as the days shorten with the world turning on it’s axis to tilt a little further from the sun, each rain becomes colder and turns to sleet and ice. That’s the part I don’t like. Travelling is difficult and getting out and about to do the regular chores and shopping become a drudgery. I miss the sunshine and it’s feel on my skin. November month is usually cold and wet and not much fun.

     As December arrives we see less of the sun and much more dark clouds gathering each day. Then sometime close to December 21^st, the winds die down and we waken in the morning to find that a silent, cold, white blanket has fallen from the sky covering everything. It’s the arrival of winter, when the land remains hidden for three or four months while all the flora sleeps below.

     If you happen to be outside when it snows on that special night it is usually very quiet. All sound seems to be muffled by the swirling white flakes which fall for hours on end. Once the blanket gets thick enough, houses don’t feel quite so cold anymore as the powdery snow envelopes roofs and windows and nestles around the feet of their walls to keep the draughty winds from finding small chinks to blow through.

     Until people with cars start emerging the whole countryside looks clean and pure. Many people can’t wait to get out their sleighs and toboggans. To slide down hills at breathe-taking speeds while gleefully shouting and anticipating that warm cup of cocoa when they come indoors again. Others long to strap skies on their feet and zoom even faster down hills or make their way through forests and fields. There is nothing like feeling the cold air rush into your lungs, cleansing you from the inside out. Wearing layers of clothes and warm boots, mittens and hats is all part of the ritual.

     To anyone who has never felt snow against their skin or been washed by truly frigid air, I say you’ve missed one of the great experiences of life. Celebrate that special first deep snowfall in some special way. It’s coming again, as it does each year, so that we will have the best reward of all when Spring comes and we watch the world awaken again.

      What happened the last time you asked someone “What’s new?” Did they smile and tell you a little anecdote about something which pleased them? Or did they stare at you and say something like “I can’t think of anything.” Where are people’s thoughts these days?

     I think we teach ourselves that it’s wrong to be happy and optimistic as we grow up. It’s not adult to enjoy life. We must all be serious and fight for our rights. Dancing and laughter aren’t dignified. Look at everything we see and hear and find a conspiracy behind it.

     Remember, whatever it is that people like, salt, coffee, chocolate, meat, tea, sugar, sweets, alcohol, smoking, you can bet the farm that there’s a study done which proves within plus or minus 4 points that it’s bad for you and you will die of it. I’m not suggesting anarchy and going out on a binge but relax and realize that once or twice a month isn’t that terrible. The statistic I remind myself of is that every single person who was born before me either has or will die at some point. That includes me. I can either spend my life worrying about that or I can just enjoy the trip while I’m here.

     My doctor told me a while back that I should only buy things which are on the outside walls of the grocery store. I didn’t have the heart to ask what I should substitute for toilet paper, toothpaste and soap. Buy more newspapers? Use baking soda – no that’s not on the outside walls. It would have been too much to ask what my cat would eat. He’s not that in to celery and lettuce and the last time he was offered steak he turned his nose up at it and walked away. No cheese or pasta for the rest of my life? No rice either?

     She was right though that I need to lose 10% of my body weight to keep healthy. I’ve lost 9 pounds in two weeks and you know what? I’m happy about that. The next time someone asks “What’s new?” I can share that. Less me and I’m happy about it.

     I’ve decided to come up with a positive and hopeful answer as often as I can from now on. The weather is getting colder, but that’s the price we pay to have our beautiful colour display from the trees every Fall. When the sun shines after a dull rainy day, it shows that the dust and grime is washed away. If I have a few aches and pains, that’s the price I pay for exercising too hard or walking around the neighbourhood too much.

     I promise not to complain about the housing foreclosures in the States because I don’t live there and am not either buying or selling a house. Instead of talking about the financial crisis in Europe, I’ll just be grateful that our banks and government have done a fairly good job of managing here.

     What about you? What good news can you share ? Anything positive and happy going on? What if folks around us just started talking hopefully and peacefully again? Would the world spin better? What do you think?