[I wasn't on the internet that day for reasons I made clear then]

This NY Times Sunday Review article of May 13th titled Saving the Lives of Moms just came to my attention. I think it's important that everyone read it.

"THIS is a Mother’s Day tribute to a mighty woman and to the doctor who gave her back her life — and also a celebration of a grand new women’s hospital that you as readers helped to build."

I cried and cheered while reading this. Take a minute.

I know I am going to pay for this tomorrow. And I promise not to whine about it. Because my evening didn't turn out as planned but surprised me by offering up an equally rewarding (even if more physically demanding - my fault) bit of live entertainment.

Oh, there was an earlier trip to the Cove this morning as well, all the details of which escape me right now, but I know I took a lot of pictures and ate lunch while I was there. I rested up for a bit and then decided at about 5pm to head back to the Cove to see what I might see - this being www.ADay.org day and all.

While waiting for the bus, I ran into someone I'd been in contact with only through email until then. Marvelous, lively chatter, having so much fun - I almost missed the bus! But flagged it down just in time and off I went to the Cove. Made sure to verify when the last return bus was going to be so I wouldn't get stranded later if I couldn't arrange a ride back.

The restaurant on whose deck I have in previous years sat and watched the ferry come and go and the fading afternoon light perform its magic show on the mountains to the east and across the Sound and upon whose deck I hoped to spend some time doing exactly that again, is closed. Doors locked. Just happened in the past couple of days.

Ran into a couple of visitors to the Island who were headed there as well. All of us bummed out. :(

Walked further toward the water. Why I am not sure, since there was nothing that would be able to feed me in that direction. Noticed a lovely Jeep Wrangler (new, big one) parked on the sidewalk in front of a closed eatery. Foodlike stuff in the back and a dog I knew on sight. Had a good chat with the proprietress of the newest eatery on Bowen: The Leftbank while she unloaded her truck. From all accounts this place is a smash hit. Congratulations given on this new endeavour and off to find food I went.

Decided after a chat with a friend to eat at another place in the Cove. Ran into the two visitors at that place too. More fun chats about baseball because I had noticed there was a game starting at the local ball field (All of these locations within walking distance of each other BTW.)

While waiting for my humongous hamburger I noticed a patron leaving with his dinner in a box. What a great idea. So I got my burger to go and boogied (well it was a slow lurch, but I got there :) to the ball field. Feasted on my fries first (bad plan, but I forgave myself because I am out of practice with this eating out business) and then ate as much of the huge burger as I could and watched the ball game.

The Diggers vs The Firemen. Lots of hits. Took a gazillion pictures but had to leave at the top of the 7th because it was getting cold and my back was complaining. Had to get to the corner from which to hitch a ride home before the next ferry unloading. (Because the last bus, boys and girls, was at 7pm - yeah, when's the last time *you* had to be home at that time? :))

Got a ride before the ferry arrived. And now? Boy am I gonna sleep tonight.

Sorry for the short notice, but I just learned of this online global collaboration project. It's not too late to participate: grab your camera and take pictures of your everyday life today. The results, when amassed from all who are taking part will be (as is usually the case with global collaboration) awesome, educational and inspiring.

Here's their invitation from the site Aday.org Aday.org+ +Invitation

Christy's directorial debut was the important documentary movie "No Woman, No Cry". Movie trailer and other video portraits of persons involved at the link.

Remember the statistic from yesterday's video: 1000 women die every day from complications of pregnancy and childbirth. This isn't just a Mother's Day issue. And it's not just a third world issue.

This is an everyday women's issue and it's costing women their lives, children their mothers, people everywhere their wives, partners, sisters, aunts, nieces, cousins and friends and the human race untold potential.

Get informed. Then do whatever little or much you can to help remove this tragedy from our reality.

It's almost Mother's Day, and I'll have a lot less to say on that day for reasons that will become clear soon. But in the meantime, as I am certain is the case for many people, this time of year has me remembering my mother and her mothering and reflecting on time spent raising my children. It's a mixed bag in both cases.

Unfortunately, when mothering (and parenting in general - not ignoring fathers today, but the tale I'll be relating happens to involve a mother) is in the news it is often because something spectacularly tragic has occurred, either due to a mother's actions or inactions or her offspring being the subject of scrutiny as a result of becoming a news item themselves.

I think that's unfair and lopsided and back in 2005 I posted my thoughts about the importance of noticing those mothers (and fathers, but again...) who were not gaining attention because they were doing their jobs quietly and effectively. I wanted people to remember to give a similar level of quiet acknowledgement and appreciation to these mothers whenever they had a chance. I know when I was doing this job the occasional comment and understanding the comment communicated to me were appreciated.

Here is the post from back then. For mothers everywhere.

"Hope for Humanity"

Media stories to the contrary, small unappreciated acts of strength and grace are taking place everywhere. Watch closely and you will witness them in the most unexpected places. Encourage those engaged in these labours of love when you get a chance. It really is the little things that matter. And the little ones.

The other night I was on a late evening bus from the Ottawa Folk Festival venue to the transitway. A young woman sat across from me, holding the stroller her youngest child was no longer riding in front of her. She had three youngsters with her, the younger two choosing to explore the seat belts on the bench next to me while the oldest sat next to the young woman, exploring the back of that bench, talking with his mother about what he saw out the window.

Though I don't understand Spanish well enough to know what any of them said to one another, I understand mothering enough to appreciate what was taking place. The children were active, moving from the bench I sat on to the one she was on and back a few times, chattering to each other but not being a nuisance - just being children. She commanded respect by her way with the little ones. Their behaviour was a credit to her character and patience. Her tone was never angry or intimidating. She spoke calmly and clearly without repetition but with a pleasant and understanding authority. Rather than catering to the children's desire to have the window where they sat opened, she instructed and demonstrated without leaving her seat how they might accomplish this. They were unable to achieve what they were after but even at that late hour there was no whining or pleading; no cries of frustration.

I watched and listened without letting the children know I was paying attention to them. She was paying attention to her little ones and no doubt knew I was as well. When the youngest had not picked up his sandals from the floor of the bus she left them there until it appeared they may be in the way of boarding passengers.

As their stop approached they lined up in anticipation, the youngest hopping back into the stroller and putting on his shoes. The little one had been given the privilege of making the bell ring for their stop, but didn't respond to her instruction - the only one in English thus far. She took his hand and together they pushed the button. Finally, standing facing the rest of the bus and waiting for the shoe putter onner to finish, she looked toward the ceiling of the bus, sighed, shook her head and smiled as only a patient mother can. As it turned out, the ring had been premature, so she apologized to the driver and thanked him as they were leaving.

Just before her stop, she glanced at me and we shared a moment of understanding. I smiled to tell her I knew exactly how she felt and nodded that she was doing a good job. Her smile told me she appreciated my noticing. As she walked along the length of the bus after getting her brood safely outside, she looked in, smiled and nodded once in my direction: Goodbye.

Well behaved parents all over the world are raising well behaved children. Count on it. Encourage them if you get a chance. It's for our own good.

Get up and Dance! (or try listening to all of this and not moving a muscle. dare YA :))


















PS: It was a fantastic day today: sun in the Cove + meeting new and old friends + great chat over Eggs Bennie w/salmon at the Snug. Talk about paradise. No. Not too loud. Thanks. :)

I'm getting better and better. And very pleased to see this recent round of improvements has not been backsliding.

This week (so far) I have managed to be out of my little cave for two trips to the Cove. I know. It's incredible. Talk the ears off the two gentlemen who were (un)lucky enough to cross my path. (Manic is as manic does.) Listened to the protest my body put up about this sudden reuse of muscles quite happy to be in retirement but who now protest not as much.

The downside of the upside (also the fantastic weather) is that my old reluctance to sit still indoors has returned. Which means I am not inclined at this minute of the day to engage with the web community, nor investigate improvements to the blog. Sorry.

Here, though is something to lighten your mood (if it needs it). A song from the '60s that reminds me of when my mother used to admonish me to "watch out for the creepy guys" when I was going out as a teenager. That's as far as the warning got, though, so as it turns out was not very useful.

The song that brought this to mind is this one on the site that was the source of my failed experiment the other day (to get the volume to not be a Maximum when the audio file is played - so do be warned to move the volume slider before you listen).

See ya outside!

Just chatted with the server tech guy and the server is going to be decommissioned in the near future. We both agreed that in light of this his spending time getting my blog working (nobody else's seems to need what I need right now) would not be worth it.

So, now I will be on the search for another place from which to inflict my musings and meanderings on the world. Onward!

The server tech guy has been ill and is just now climbing back on the horse (which is not the Get Janice's Blog Rolling horse by the way :) today. Patience is the order of the day(s). But soon. Very soon.

In the meantime: I posted a thing on the Forum in the thread about the agenda for the upcoming council meeting (Monday, May 14th meeting - in case the link moves around which I've sometimes experienced).

Didn't want anyone thinking I'd really disappeared or 'nuthin. :)