Friday, March 7, 2014


We've wondered where all the common house sparrows have gone. They were once so ubiquitous they were seen everywhere, perching twittering in trees, scratching under cars to pick up the grist they need to help them digest their scavenged food; anywhere one might look in the great out-of-doors the most common avian sight was the sparrow. It had suddenly occurred to us one day that we just don't see them any more.


Can it be possible that domestic cats have succeeded in destroying their presence? It's a well enough recognized fact that cat depredation on birds is horrendous in its scope, and seen to be the primary cause of a significant dip in the numbers of songbirds now seen in North America. Our obsession with domestic pets hasn't impinged on our consciousness that pet ownership comes with a responsibility. If we're responsible for the proliferation of domestic cats in society, then we're also responsible to ensure we've done our utmost to ensure that they don't prey on wildlife beyond the point of sustainability.


We realize that we'll have to put an end to our bird/squirrel/rabbit feeding station fairly soon. While it remains extremely cold, long past the time when we might have reason to think the weather must soon moderate as we edge into spring, it won't be long before the neighbourhood cats resume their prowling. And we don't want to be responsible for the carnage that ensues when they do, around our own home. We've been through this before and finding the tiny corpses that have been mangled by a well-fed cat amusing itself is not a great experience.


Wildlife that surrounds us will increasingly be able to find their own food sources in abundance as warmer weather inevitably does arrive. In the meantime, we're still getting ample cold and snow events. The 'canopy' that my husband put up over the feeding area on our porch a month ago has been quite useful in ensuring that snow doesn't completely engulf the seeds and nuts. It will all soon have to be disassembled.

When a pair of black squirrels alongside a red one were on the porch this morning, we suddenly saw a grey tabby approaching, seemingly out of nowhere. As alert as the squirrels are, cats are extremely skilled as predators. That was our first signal. As much as nature has equipped her creatures with their primary, overriding instinct of survival, that compulsion is often enough surmounted by a quite dreadful fate.



Thursday, March 6, 2014

Yesterday she was gripped in an emotional paroxysm of rage at what she perceived to be the trivialization of violence against women. More specifically, the news coverage from some sources interpreting what has come to be called "rape culture" that seems to pop up aggravatingly within the halls of academia with some male students apprehended in juvenile fantasies appearing to regard their female student counterparts as bait for the realization of those violent imaginings.

That in an age where society has finally focused on a high awareness of the power imbalance between men and women, with programs designed to give women greater confidence and men greater understanding of equality and respect. That there remains such abysmal holdouts where young men in group-think feel it is perfectly all right to be sexual predators is disheartening to say the least.

In our conversation of yesterday, emotionally charged in her outrage against the phenomena and peoples' propensity to invoke the 'boys will be boys', rather than 'boys should grow up' on their way to becoming men argument, we turned to consoling one another, and casting blame on familial environments where young boys pattern themselves after those closest to them, acquiring all the attitudes of male dominance.

And then came a following news story, where one of five male predators who had targeted the female president of the University of Ottawa student federation in a Facebook conversation -- in a salacious, disgustingly verbally graphic back-and-forth threatening her with rape -- was the son of a highly respected local police chief.

The young woman in question had received an anonymously-dispatched email containing the five-way Facebook conversation, and she courageously confronted the five men, all fellow student leaders within the student federation. Expressing her anger and disgust, she spoke in no uncertain terms of her feelings. They apologized, while citing privacy and intrusion into their privacy, assuring her that no real harm was meant to come to her; just boys spouting off.

When she indicated she was appalled at their behaviour and considered their response inadequate in explaining their attitudes and meant to go public with it, they then threatened her with a lawsuit that would turn on their right to privacy which she was invading. The absurdity of the situation doesn't appear to have occurred to them, that they were victimizing a female student counterpart twice over.

The son of the local police chief, whom his father in private anguish, reached out to the public to ask that his son be given some space, was on the cusp of graduating from his criminology course, following in the footsteps of his father who had in his time taken the same course at the same university. And he was one of two men who had verbalized the most seriously violent sexual fantasy, interpreted as an incitement to rape.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

He was tall and robust and looked as though he had barely entered his thirties. Black hair, black beard and moustache, and a bulging midsection, too heavily protruding even for his size, and certainly for his age. But a personable young man intent on doing his job. His job at the moment, as a technician working for Bell Canada was to fix a problem.

Late last week I'd received a telephone call informing me that at no cost to us, Bell Canada would like to set up an appointment for one of their technicians to come by and identify the cause of our poor Internet connection. I hadn't complained. They were receiving signals of problems leading them to the opinion that they weren't delivering the service we were paying for. The problem was not isolated to simply our reception, needless to say, it was an ongoing situation that prevailed across the city. And the company had initiated a program to identify and offer improvements to those individuals for whom the performance of Internet connectivity was impaired for whatever reason.


My husband had installed splitters on all of our telephone connections years ago, as required, for the modem supplied to us by Bell Canada to function properly. As it happens, the computer station we have in our family room is a distance from the telephone outlet to which it is connected, standing in a corner beside the windows, necessitating that a long wire be snaked under the area rug from the outlet to the computer.

Our visiting technician asked permission to drill a home in a discreet corner of the floor beside where the desk top computer sits inside a computer station, and he proceeded to do just that, spending the next part of an hour threading wire directly to the main telephone box located in the basement, installing other technical devices and finally completing what he had come to do.

He expressed interest in the number of paintings we have on our walls. His mother, he said, loved paintings and would be fascinated, looking at ours. I laughed and asked him how she would react to cleaning a house cluttered with so many paintings. He matter-of-factly responded she wouldn't be able to. She has been diagnosed with cancer of the throat and it's difficult for her to breathe, much less do anything much physical.

I asked a question that, when I mouthed it, sounded ridiculous, the assumption being his response would be "certainly, of course". Is she receiving treatment, was the question, and, amazingly, no she refuses treatment was the response. I felt incredulous and perhaps that was reflected in my facial expression. He went on to explain that she didn't want to 'bother' with going to the hospital for daily treatment sessions. And besides, she had no intention of losing her hair.

At age 64, she had been a habitual smoker all her life, but in the last few years had stopped smoking, he said. It was obviously a preventive action too late in arriving. He said 'I wouldn't mind temporarily losing my hair if it meant I could be treated', and I nodded. What else was there to say?

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

It has been close to forty years since I first began volunteering as a charitable fund-raiser. It began, as such things generally do, when someone precious to me was stricken with a dreadful disease. Before that, I had the experience of witnessing my father, an inveterate cigarette smoker, slowly succumb to cancer.

But it was when our oldest son in his teen years was diagnosed with juvenile-onset Type One diabetes that I felt a desperate need to do something to advance research that might result in saving our son from the dreadful future potential of blindness, kidney failure, heart and stroke events, neuropathy resulting in limb amputations. The horror stories based in reality of diabetes' leaps into further damage to the human body are mind-numbing in their scope.

That, aside from the need for daily vigilance, to ensure that blood sugar levels, as far as could be managed, be kept within 'normal' acceptable range. That, aside from daily self-administrations of insulin. That, aside from the necessity of the individual diagnosed with diabetes accepting that diagnosis and fully immersing self in the protocols that might enable them to live as close to normal a life as possible.

So that worrying concern on behalf of our son who never shirked his obligation to his future, impelled me to begin door-to-door canvassing at a time when it hadn't been undertaken by the Canadian Diabetes Association in any serious well-managed manner. It also led to my accepting an offer to open a branch office in my city. While learning all I possibly could about diabetes, learning also how to manage an office providing information to those afflicted, arranging for informative meetings and eventually setting up an in-office 'store' for the sale of diabetes-management tools at prices advantageous to the user.

And to learn how best to mount a yearly fundraising campaign, distributing advertising, eliciting participation from among the branch membership, engaging in public relations, overseeing the campaign, publishing an informative branch newsletter and managing the financial accounts of the branch, answerable to the region and the national office. I never did stop my own door-to-door canvassing efforts, though to be absolutely truthful, I hated the annual ritual and never felt comfortable with it.

In succeeding years I lent my experience with door-to-door canvassing to the need to raise funds for charitable organizations focusing on cancer, arthritis, disabilities, kidney disease, heart and stroke, and of course, diabetes. There were times when during the space of a year I would undertake three, even four such canvasses; enterprises that I never learned to love, yet felt determined to take part in, as a public, civic duty. Our neighbours mostly responded extremely well.

This year at the urging of my husband who very well knows how depressed I often feel returning from one of those door-to-door solicitation outings, I refused all requests from those charitable organizations that I have helped support over the years. Although for the most part, those outings could be very pleasant, since in later years I only canvassed the street I now live on, and neighbours tend to be well - neighbourly, I couldn't help but inwardly wince when each of those canvass months came around.

Now I'm free. I have adamantly refused any further canvassing activities on my part. Just about. I still have the Canadian Cancer Society canvass that I've committed to, for yet another year. How could I refuse, I ask myself, when the captain I've answered to for the last dozen years is now in her mid-80s and still going strong?

Monday, March 3, 2014

When we experienced a very much appreciated lull in the extreme cold weather last week, causing the creek in the ravine to begin flowing once again, temporarily freed from the ice capping it during these colder-than-normal for the period days of unending chill, we saw to our amazement, a number of robins, flitting about the open waters edged with ice.

Several days later, when it had become colder, but not quite as icy as it would once again become, we heard the unmistakable melody of robins singing their welcome of spring. If only that old phrase "from your mouth to god's ear", expressed any kind of reality ...  Environment Canada has issued one of its regular quarterly prognostications about the weather to come, and the warning is to expect that over the coming months the warmth we anticipate will be delayed. Cold will continue to grip the geography.

A winter flock of about 30 robins was noted in one area of the city. Robins, which traditionally fled to warmer climes in anticipation of winter, have figured out how they could survive winter here, likely because over the last decade or so winters have declined in their severity. This winter just happens to be one considered to be more 'traditional' to this northern hemisphere. So the robins that have accustomed themselves to staying put, must be experiencing quite the challenge to survive this winter.

Some area naturalists point out that dark-eyed juncos, whose appearance would once have been rare in the winter now winter-over, making use of winter feeders. Juncos make their regular daily appearance at our bird feeders, and we're delighted to see them. In the past we've seen robins alighting on our two miniature crab apple trees to peck at the fruit.

But it seems they have been feeding on tiny aquatic insects in areas where waters manage to run free. They feed on invertebrates in pool vegetation debris and have actually been seen to 'fish', dipping into the iced-over
stream edges to capture and consume small minnows. Catfish minnows, bullfrog and green frog tadpoles form part of their winter diet.

Who would have thought...?

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Years ago -- it seems like a lifetime, in fact -- when I was first introduced to the Internet, whenever any invitations to take part in a quiz or some kind of questionnaire would pop up, I'd be intrigued, and tend to respond. At one point, I even signed up to be a regular for a well-known polling group, until I'd completed a few polls and became rather bored and even disgusted with the realization that this was a completely commercial focus that I was lending myself to.

It was a marketing tool for the polling firm, to satisfy the market needs of their clients. And since my interest in acquiring the latest electronic gadgets, associated software, and use of various types of food products, particularly those that had been processed slightly beyond the 'food' range as I saw it was severely limited, I soon cut off any further acquiescence to continue being a source of data in subjects I had no interest in. I certainly had no interest in promoting commercial products, nor of assisting the manufacturers or distributors of those products to enlarge their sales opportunities.

Which brings me to the latest types of pop-ups, those blithely guaranteeing seniors that with the use of their brilliantly-devised mind games, the brains of those teetering on their golden years could be enhanced, enabled to battle Alzheimer's before it took a toehold. I view all come-ons askance, and these in particular. While at the same time acknowledging that what isn't being used to its full potential will incrementally degrade.

It's not that I particularly gear any of my activities toward the preservation of my grey matter. What does happen, though, is that I continue to be psychologically involved in what goes on about me, and I use my brain and my communication skills such as they are to advantage. Reading, writing, making contact, conversing, attempting to solve the many puzzles of human emotions, behaviour, including dysfunctions. And, needless to say, remaining physically active.

I've read that roughly one hundred research studies on cognitive training have been published, all of them said to have been peer reviewed. The result being that researchers appear not to be in accord whether brain training works and if it does happens to work, which regimen is most effective. What was also pointed out is that training games offered by commercial companies have no research backing them up to support their advertised efficacy.

Neuroscientist Dr. Adrian Owen studied over eleven thousand people busying their brains in commercial brain training, in 2010. Their purpose was to improve memory, reasoning, attention and other abilities. Dr. Owen discovered no evidence that general cognitive ability was improved through training.

He did acknowledge that the subjects improved their ability to succeed at the cognitive tasks they were trained on, but "no evidence was found for transfer effects to untrained tasks, even when those tasks were cognitively closely related".

On the other hand, it appears to be a scientifically proven fact that we can enhance memory, boost our cognitive thinking and reduce the risk of dementia by enjoying certain foods:
  • Dark chocolate contains flavonoids, powerful antioxidants with memory- and mood-enhancing properties;
  • Oily fish like salmon, trout, sardines and mackerel -- and more -- are packed with omega-3 fatty acids, great for healthy brain function;
  • Green vegetables like broccoli, cabbage, kale, bok choy and brussels sprouts contain antioxidants, vitamin C and plant compounds called carotenoids, powerful brain protectors;
  • Curry contains a chemical called curcumin which research has identified to boost memory, slowing the progression of Alzheimer's;
  • Seeds and nuts are good sources of vitamin E, helping to reduce cognitive decline in the elderly;
  • Blueberries help protect the brain from stress, and may reduce the effects of age-related conditions like Alzheimer's or dementia.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

I don't often find my weekly grocery shopping cash register receipt at variance with what I actually shopped for, but I observe a ritual scrutiny of the receipt at home, after I've done the shopping, and put everything away. That ritual resulted from my having often discovered that I'd been charged wrongly, or items were misidentified in the past. The supermarket where I regularly shop has long since ensured that they input correct data in their computers, since most of the errors originated there, where sale items hadn't been changed to reflect that sale price in their pricing inventory.

After my shopping excursion last week, though, I discovered a few glaring irregularities in what I'd actually purchased as opposed to what I was charged for. We enjoy having oranges and bananas daily for our breakfast, but we also alternate between oranges and melons. Usually I find that honeydew melons and cantaloupes are available, but leap at the opportunity to put other types of melons on the breakfast table, when they're available. And last week the store had Canary melons on their shelves, so I bought three of them, at a very good price of $2.97 each.

I discovered, when perusing my receipt that I'd been charged instead for spaghetti squash, three of them, at over $5.00 each. So I retained that receipt, pulled the identifying stickers off the three melons, stuck them to the receipt and the following week returned the receipt back to the store, and was given a refund of almost six dollars, representing almost half of what I spend weekly for food staples to put out in the large receptacle placed in the store's foyer accepting donations for our area Food Bank.

Those Canary melons were still available, so I bought another two, never imagining that another cashier, all of whom are excellent at their job, good-natured and friendly young women, would plug in yet again 'spaghetti squash', at their prevailing higher cost. So, that's another cash register receipt that will be returned once again.

I felt badly presenting it at the Customer Service desk because the person who looks after that client-interface desk is someone I've known casually for years, an older woman I really like. And she was busy, harried, a line of people needing attention. She looked absolutely awful that day, wan, drained of energy, so I asked if she was nursing a cold once my turn had arrived. No, she said, smiling ruefully, just awfully tired.

During that same shopping expedition I meant to buy a package of blackberries. I'd seen an intriguing looking upside-down fruitcake recipe in the newspaper of the day before's food section, and thought I'd try it. Another woman, beside me, was also carefully selecting among the blackberries and I mentioned to her the recipe. She laughed and admitted that she'd seen it as well herself, and that was her purpose in buying the fruit. Like me, she was intrigued enough to try the cake for a family dessert treat.