Happy Valentine's Day

 

I thought for a Valentine's Day post, I would present photos of "hearts" that I have found or have been given to me or in one case, I have purchased.  As you will see, many have been made naturally.

This last one comes from South America and represents people of different races in colourful dress.  It is shown adorning my previous apartment door.

A Cat Rescue Operation From Years Ago

One day back in 1997 I took a different route home from work and in the process came upon an abandoned lot that was home to a colony of feral cats.  The rescue operation lasted a year and involved many obstacles.  There were tragedies and triumphs but every individual that was given a better life was a victory and made it all worthwhile.  A friend who collaborated with me on this undertaking was instrumental in the many victories.  

Here is a "slide show" of the operation.  You can enlarge a photo by clicking on it.

Making Coffee

Prior to COVID-19, I never had a coffee maker but visiting cafés is on hold for now.  I love this one because it is so easy to use.  

Here are the simple steps: 

1) fill the tall steel mug with water;

2) pour that water into the coffee maker's tank;

3) place the plastic cup and filter into the coffee maker;

4) add the ground coffee;

5) plug in, switch on, wait.

Ok, very simple right?  

Well, here are the various scenarios that have happened (with some disastrous results):

1) I've forgotten to add the water;

2) I've added the water to the mug but forgotten to pour it into the tank;

3) I've added the water to the tank but forgotten to add the coffee;

4) I've added the coffee but before putting in the plastic cup and filter;

5) I've added the coffee and water but forgotten to plug it in;

6)  I've plugged it in but forgotten to switch it on.

Now, with my coffee I have a toasted bagel with peanut butter.  

Here is my latest scenario regarding the toaster (which luckily has no separate pieces):

1)  I've forgotten to plug in the toaster;

2)  I've spread the peanut butter on the bagel prior to toasting.

The problem is:  I need a cup of coffee in order to be alert enough to make a cup of coffee!! 

Childhood photos

Today, at 71 years old, I have been given photographs of me (and my siblings) that I have never seen before! It has been wonderful to see these glimpses of the past.  

I thought I would share some of these "new" photos here along with others that I have.  (Captions are beneath each picture.)

My sister Diane at left, my brother Nelson in the middle, and me (Doris).  I am not sure of our ages.  This is my all time favourite photograph of the three of us!

This one is dated 1952.  I am two years old. This is my second favourite group photo.

Again, this one is not dated but I just love our expressions and Nelson looks like a real little scamp!

Nelson, Mum (Mabel), Diane and Doris - 1954

Dad (Ronald), Nelson, Diane and Doris - 1954 (on my 4th birthday)

A rare colour photograph of the three of us!

Nelson and Doris with Santa!

Front row:  Mum (Mabel), Grandpa (Thomas - Mum's father), Dad (Ronald)

Back row:  Nelson and Doris

Update on the Cooper's hawks and the trees

If you recall, the administration of the cemetery where the hawks were nesting had marked two trees flanking the "nest tree" for felling but actions were taken to allow the hawks to fledge safely and take to the skies.  See earlier post here 

Below is a photo of one of the young hawks that was taken in late October.  I haven't seen the parents or the other four juveniles but that is not a cause for alarm since this seems to be their pattern.  Actually I hope this guy has decided to migrate as the weather is quite cold now.

Some interesting activities have happened regarding the trees.  For one thing, red tapes have been taken off some trees and put on others.  It seems willy-nilly to  me and I can see no reason for the change of targets (in terms of the condition or location of the trees).

As for the two trees mentioned earlier, they have not been felled but did remain marked (red tape on trunks) until a film crew arrived on November 6th to film a scene involving a burial.  This in itself was interesting and I tried to discover what the TV show or movie was, but I could not find anything to indicate that.  However I read on the Internet that the show "Transplant" is currently filming in Montreal.  In any event, I noticed that the red tapes were removed!  I figured it may have been just for aesthetic reasons and that they might re-appear after the actors and crew, etc. had left.  But they have not been put back and suddenly red tape has appeared elsewhere on the grounds (see photos).

This is a pole.  It hold up wires and a light.  It does not normally get "felled".

This is a metal pole.  It holds up a light.  

Again, not something that is normally cut down.

I would like to think that someone is making a statement about the killing of so many trees that has occurred within the cemetery and on the surrounding grounds.  I hope the cemetery authorities get the message!

Living With Misophonia

 

I have lived for most of my life with a condition that I had no idea existed or had a name until ten years ago.  That name is misophonia. The word literally means “hatred of sound” and it is now becoming a subject of scientific research, https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-019-44084-8. 

It may sound bizarre to those without the condition but perhaps this example can illustrate it:  imagine being locked in a room where someone continually scrapes their fingernails down a blackboard.

My misophonia is a major influence on where I live, where I go, and who I can be around. 

In the workplace (I am now retired) I was subjected to “sound triggers” like gum chewing, sniffing, humming, and whistling.  With misophonia there are also visual triggers.  Just the sight of a person’s jaw moving, or their foot rotating or twiddling of thumbs evokes feelings of rage and anxiety that make me want to bolt from the room.

Office layouts would change over time as dictated by the latest trends.  Separate offices were the norm until the open concept was adopted, then later on, cubicles became the “in” thing.  The open concept was always the worst for me as I could hear and see people all around me.  Each layout or personnel change brought with it the fear of new triggering situations. 

Then there are the social get-togethers.  Consider that you are at a family event when suddenly you become aware of a close family member (whom you love) rotating their foot as they sit on the couch.  You are in such discomfort that you look for any way to escape or avoid the sight.  You try to find a way to block it from your view (I have awkwardly propped cushions on my lap to do that) or you go and sit at a far table instead of the couch but the hostess calls you back and kindly says “sit here, be comfortable”.  But you can not be comfortable.  You are writhing inside.

I have, after considerable anguish, decided to tell people what is bothering me and often they have been considerate and kind.  One friend told me “Tell me whatever bothers you and I won’t do it” which was wonderful, and a family member said “Just signal to me when I am doing it” but these things are done unconsciously and it is very hard to keep interrupting someone’s conversation to ask them to stop rotating their foot, or sniffing, etcetera.

When discussing with one friend about her gum chewing, she told me that she needed to do it for her dry mouth, and then when she did stop, she would tell me how much she missed it.  On two later occasions, she chewed gum while one other person was present, thinking, I guess, that I would be inhibited from mentioning it in front of them.  These passive-aggressive actions seriously damaged our friendship.

I am now 71, and like many aging people, I live with the knowledge that at some point I can lose my autonomy and be forced to live in a setting that is not of my choosing.  A person with misophonia faces even greater anxiety on this score.  Will I be able to have noise-cancelling headphones and white noise machines at all times?  Will I be able to avoid the triggering sounds and visual cues that put me into a state of torment and anxiety?

I hope that with greater awareness, people will come to understand the serious nature of this condition and how some thoughtful accommodations can help to ease the misery of it.

I'm Seeing Red - Literally and Figuratively

 

I'm sorry to say that this is an angry and sad posting.

Everywhere I look these days, I am seeing red.  Tree trunks are sprayed with red paint or encircled by red tape and it is distressing.  It seems as though there has been all this pent up frustration during the pandemic that is now being unleashed and trees are falling at an alarming rate.  And the vast majority are not dead or diseased trees. 

The photo above shows three felled Eastern Cottonwood trees (many decades old) at the edge of a dirt road behind CEGEP Saint-Laurent (Saint-Laurent College).  I was shocked to see them marked for cutting and tried to reach out to the college before they all came down but to no avail.  No one would reply to me. This is a college which boasts of a spiritual connection with the Environment and has achieved the "Excellence level" of the province's "CEGEP Vert" certification. 

And this was just the beginning.  Chainsaws have been roaring on the campus for close to two months now.  Young, healthy Maple trees are being cut down, bushes are being ripped out, and vines are being torn down.  Nesting birds are given no consideration and many mammals (voles, rabbits, groundhogs and squirrels) have lost vital cover to protect them from predators.

I was not the only person disturbed by all this destruction and in my many walks in the area, I met others who lamented the killing.  Someone wrote the trees' ages on their stumps.  

I was inspired to write as well.  The first one says " Why? Pourquoi?", and the second one says " Why did you kill me?"

Below is another view of the three slain Cottonwoods.

And then there was a healthy Maple tree in which I had photographed Warblers, Cardinals and Eastern Phoebes among its branches this spring.  It also gave shelter to an Eastern Cottontail under its low slung branches.  Below are before and after shots.

I contacted the mayor of Saint-Laurent on this issue to find out what was happening and he told me that the college had applied for permits to cut down 16 trees.  He said the applicant is supposed to declare them to be dead, diseased or posing a safety threat.  I don't see that here!

These killings, combined with at least 7 trees slated for cutting in the Saint-Laurent Cemetery, plus 2 more on private land nearby and 5 more in city green spaces, have made this a very sad summer.

The only positive note was the protection of the hawks (see previous post) but that, too, involves the killing of trees – it is just a delayed execution.

Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago:

The Cutting

Chainsaws roar and spit.

Helpless – trees submit

to the death machines.

No one intervenes.

Standing in silence.

Facing the violence.

Without a choice.

Without a voice.

Left where they lie

to slowly die.

Stumps jut through 

leafy branches ...

Instant tombstones – 

with rings as

poignant epitaphs.

(from the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter