The Candy Canes

There were many things my Dad left behind when he died which I hung on to. Over the years, I have let go of many of these things, keeping only those that I cherish or that could be passed down to his grand-children. Some of the things I cherish are of little value, but they mean the world to me. One of these things are two wooden candy canes he made and used for Christmas decorating. For the first few years after Dad died, I used them to decorate our yard, but for the past fifteen years or so, they have sat in our garage. I had kept other decorations he had made, including a star and a wooden “Merry Christmas” sign. I was able to let go of those decorations, but those candy canes were special! I always loved them as a child, their beautiful red lights shining brightly at night. In the daytime, they were stunning with their shiny red and white stripes. Those candy canes meant Christmas to me. The candy canes are one of the few things I brought with me when I moved to the city four years ago, and again they sat in our garage. The paint had faded and even chipped off in some spots, and the candy canes looked very worn out, but still I could not part with them. Every year, I told my husband that I would paint them and use them this year. Well, the other day I finally went to the paint store and bought red and white paint. Last night, I dug out the candy canes from behind some lumber, sanded them down and began to paint the red stripes. As I painted, memories came rushing back, memories I didn’t even know I still had. I remembered my Dad coming back from Saskatoon where he had seen “Candy Cane Lane”. I remember his excitement as he talked about how he wanted to decorate our yard and how he wanted to make his own candy canes, just like the ones he had seen in Saskatoon. Our kitchen was a hub of activities, as he enlisted his friends to help him. I especially remember Mrs. Richard sitting at the kitchen table, cutting out a pattern to use for the candy canes. She had been brought in by my dad because of her artistic abilities. Saws, drills and paint were brought into our kitchen, much to my mother’s dismay. Dad even drilled a hole in the side of our kitchen table when he was drilling holes into his decorations. We used that table for years, with the hole in it. As I re-painted those candy canes last night, I could once again feel the excitement as we children watched. Re-painting the strips my Dad and Mrs. Richard had so lovingly painted decades ago and reliving those memories, I felt a strong connection with him. I realize now that is why those candy canes are so special to me, not only because I thought they were so beautiful, but because they were special to him. I think this is the same connection Natalie Cole or Lisa Presley felt when they recorded a song with the fathers decades after their fathers had died. Sharing something with your father that was special to him, years after his death is an incredible experience. This year, when I display my freshly-painted candy canes, they will be even more special to me than ever before. Loving a gift from your father years after his death. . . . it’s a good thing!

Home Routes

For the past three years, I have been enjoying concerts through the "Home Routes" program. World-class musicians, known and unknown, entertain in private homes. The shows are intimate, personal and the audience really connects with the artists. The singers and musicians travel a specific route set up by the Home Routes organizers, abd go into mostly smaller centres. There are usually around 15 shows a year. Each center has a host home. The host provides a place to sleep and food to the musician. The host invites as many friends as their home will hold, usually about 25 - 40, who attend the performance. There is a small fee at the door, all of which goes to the performer. I have enjoyed almost every performance I have seen. The artists come from every part of Canada. Last night, I saw Suzie Vinneck. Suzie Vinneck is an up-and-coming artist currently living in Toronto, but originally from Saskatoon. (The next time you see the Special K commercial wherein the actress is fighting temptation, begins to look through her cupboards for something to eat, finds little messages on containers in her cupboards, then finally finds the Special K - pay special attention to the song being sung in the background. It is being sung by Suzie Vinneck!). She is also the voice of "Always fresh - always Tim Horton's"! She gave a wonderful performance last night. I think we will be hearing a lot more about this talented singer in the future. Whoever came up with the idea of bringing musician and singers into private homes and having them perform to smaller audiences is a genius! Enjoying the intimacy of the performance and the huge talent of the performers at Home Routes concerts. . . it's a good thing!

Removing An Eyelash

Yesterday, I fought with an eyelash in my eye all day! I don't think there is anything more frustrating that your eye being irritated and you can't seem to do anything about it! Every time I went to the mirror to have a look at it, I couldn't see the lash. Yet I could still feel it. Or, other times, I thought I had it removed, blinked a time or two, everything felt fine and I sighed a sigh of relief. As I started back to my desk, I would blink again and - aarrggghhh - it was still there!

Through out the day, I tried removing it with my finger, flushing my eye with water, and blinking very fast - nothing worked. This morning when I was washing my face, I looked into the mirror and there it was - the eye lash was lying on the bottom part of my eye. I placed my finger on it and Hallelujah the lash stuck to my finger and it was gone. My eye felt so much better. Sometimes, it really is the little things that make life worth living! Finally removing the eyelash from your eye . . . it's a good thing!

Eating for A Better Education!

One of the local post-secondary schools in our community offers a class to students who are going into the food service industry. The school has renovated and created a dining room which can seat sixty people. The dining room is open to the public from 6 – 9 for three nights at week for about two months a year. As part of their training, the students wait on tables and serve customers. The dining room is made up to look like a top-notch restaurant. The students/servers wear white shirts and black pants. The meals are cooked by an award-winning chef who has his own restaurant in our city. The food is wonderful! You truly feel like you are in an expensive restaurant – until you get your bill! Because the servers are in training and the school is actually using the public to help train the students, the meals are all $19.95! Cocktails are only $2.50! Word is slowly spreading throughout our city and every night more and more customers are showing up. Last night, they were filled – all sixty seats were taken. The students, though they are nervous, are eager to please and do a good job. The food is delicious and the cocktails are wonderful. Way to go, SIAST! What a great idea. Eating good food, enjoying great cocktails and helping students learn . . . it’s a good thing!

Visiting Ireland

I've previously blogged about my niece and her husband moving to Ireland for a year. We, her family miss her but are happy that she is experiencing another part of the world. She has begun to post pictures on facebook of sights she is visiting. I have never been to Ireland, but always imagined that it truly is the "Emerald Isle" and that the green is greener than anywhere else. That is what is so striking about the pictures Amber is posting - how very green Ireland really is! I'm happy that we live in an age in which we can post pictures which are immediately seen halfway around the world. Each time Amber goes on a day trip and posts pictures, I feel I have gone on the tour with her. For the time being, that is how I visit Ireland. It is truly a beautiful country with a proud history. Visiting another country through the eyes - and pictures - of someone else . . . it's a good thing!

Ride 'em Cowboy

Someone asked me recently if I had a favorite toy in my childhood. I listed off a couple things, and it was only a couple days later that I remembered how much I loved my "jumping horse". My brother and I each got one for Christmas one year. How I loved riding that horse! I was a rather "busy" child and riding on this horse was a great way to use up energy. And that I did! I would jump on it so hard that it would move and I would "ride" my horse all over the house. I remember spending hours on it. I would give my baby sister rides. I had only had one disappointment involving that horse: I had overheard my mother tell one of my older brothers that there was "some of grandpa's money in the horse". Of course, I thought she meant that literally. I didn't know that she meant he had put some money toward buying it. When I finally rode the horse so hard that I made a hole in it, I was so disappointed when I couldn't find any money in it! When my own children were born, I bought them a horse too, thinking they would love it as much as I had. But they were already of the video game generation and they just didn't get the same enjoyment out of it. Remembering a much-loved toy . . . it's a good thing!

Pigeon Problems

I was so happy when I finally got my bird feeders up after we had moved into this house. I loved to watch the birds feeding and flying around in my back yard. One day, last summer, I heard a "cooing noise" coming through my kitchen window. I looked out my window and couldn't believe what I was seeing: pigeons! Pigeons were on the lawn under the bird feeders, eating spilled bird seed. I don't like pigeons! I didn't set up bird feeders or spend money on bird seed to feed pigeons! I wondered if this meant that I would have to quit feeding birds in my back yard. "Of course not," my step-dad declared "Get an owl statue, set it up by the bird feeders and your pigeons will be gone". Several other self-declared experts told me this would work. So, I got not one, but two owls. I set one up at the top of the post to which my bird feeders are attached, and the other on the ground. I filled the feeders with seed and began to observe from my kitchen window. Two days later, I said to my husband "This really works. It's been two days and I haven't seen one pigeon". Well, obviously, the pigeons were doing some observing of their own, and what they observed is that the owls had not moved in two days. Soon, I was hearing cooing in my back yard again. They were back. I decided pigeons need to eat too, and maybe this was God's way of telling me to feed his pigeons. Welcoming all birds to my bird feeders, even the pigeons . . . it's a good thing!

AM's Magic

I walked into the house after work on Monday evening and I could hear happy chattering and laughter in the living room. AM had arrived! As I took off my boots and hung up my coat, I listened to her and my husband talking and realized how much I have missed her and her always-fun conversation since she moved away to get married and have children. Sure, we talk on facebook and on the phone, but it's just not the same. She was here until Thursday, taking a class and was staying at our house. It was going to be a great week! We talked as we had supper together (insisting on waiting until I made gravy for the roast - so like AM!) and I once again realized how special she is. She is the type of person who fills a room with her outgoing personality . She is comical, intelligent, and interested in so many things. Her conversation is animated with gestures and expressions, and no one can tell a story like she does. She is truly unique. She is now a mother with two children, and this was one of the few times she has been away from them, so this was a bit of an adventure for her. She is pictured here with her "Michelle" purse - she named her purse after Michelle Obama because she is convinced this the kind of purse Michelle would have. AM left yesterday afternoon. At supper time, my husband and I discussed how empty the house felt without her. How can a house feel empty after someone has only been a part of your life for three days? That is the magic of AM. Having a unique friend you enjoy spending time with . . . it's a good thing!

The Trial of Louis Riel

Last night I saw the play “The Trial of Louis Riel”. It was a wonderful performance and the actors were marvelous – including the locals who had small parts. My dad raised us on stories of Louis Riel and Gabriel Dumont. We grew up learning about Batoche. Every summer, one of our family day trips would be to go to Batoche, visit the still-visible trenches, the Museum, the old church with the bullet holes in it and hear again the stories that Dad would tell us about the uprising. His version was slightly (or not so slightly) tinted with dislike of the soldiers who came from Eastern Canada to fight Riel and his men. Dad was not Métis, he was French, however there was, and still is, a strong bond between the French and the Métis regarding Louis Riel. He was held in high regard by both the French and the Metis. To the French, he was a symbol of the battle against perceived English oppression. He was a man who had done much for western Canadians but was badly mistreated by eastern Canada. He eventually died at the hands of a government which was unpopular with French and Métis westerners. Their language, their religion and customs were ridiculed, even at Louis Riel’s trial. These were all things that my father still felt very strongly about and they formed a huge part of his own identity. The stories of the Métis, of Riel, of Dumont are emotional for me because of my Dad. The emotions come not only because of the injustices but because of the connection with Dad through these stories. Last night, watching the play, I thought of him and felt that connection. I hope Dad knows we all still remember his stories and we still all feel his passion for that part of history. I hope he knows that, as often as I can, I still go to Batoche to walk where Louis Riel walked, and where we walked with our Dad, retracing the steps of Riel. Just as Dad seemed to hear the voices of Riel and Dumont when he was at Batoche, when I am there I can hear Dad telling us their stories. Carrying a piece of your parents with you by remembering their stories. . . it’s a good thing.

The Security of Flannel Sheets

Now that the long, hot and sticky days of summer are over and colder weather has arrived, it is time to dig out the flannel sheets. At the end of a cold day, there is nothing better than crawling in between warm and soft flannel sheets and settling in for the night. I especially love brand new flannel sheets that have been washed only one time. They are so soft and thick, and so inviting. Even after a most stressful day, tension simply seems to melt away as you settle into your soft flannel sheets. Perhaps these sheets are so comforting because, as well as being warm and comfortable, they remind us of the flannel pajamas we are wore as children. There was nothing like jumping into those flannel pj's (some of which even had "feet") after a warm bath. It might be those childhood memory of safety, warmth and love wrapped in flannel pj's which cause our adult-selves to feel so secure in flannel sheets. Keeping warm and safe in flannel covered beds on cold winter nights. . . .it's a good thing!

A Friend

How do you handle people who are not very nice but find their way into your life, whether at work, through friends or through family? I think people end up in some type of confrontation, or one person is constantly hurt and seething inside. Writer T. Suzanne Eller tells an interesting story of how she handled someone who was not very nice and caused her a great deal of grief - her boss. He was very abrupt and often yelled at her, and many times reduced her to tears. One day, she decided she had had enough. She marched into his office, determined to give him "a piece of her mind". He looked up at her and gruffly said "What?". She told him that he was treating her badly and that he was not acting in a professional manner. He snickered. At that moment, she said a little prayer, asking for guidance and for help to say what she needed to say. She found herself saying this "I want to make you a promise. I will be your friend. I will treat you as you deserve to be treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that. Everybody does". She left his office. For the rest of the week, he avoided her. After that, he would leave her assignments on her desk when she was out for lunch or away from her desk. Every time she saw him, she smiled. She left him cookies on his desk, or just a note saying "Have a nice day". She did this because "that's what friends do". He continued to avoid her. About a year later, she discovered that, at the age of 32 and with three young children, she had breast cancer. She was told that her prognosis was not good. During her hospital stay, many friends and family came to visit her. Some of them were uncomfortable and did not know what to say. Many times Suzanne was the one doing the comforting. On the last day of her hospital stay, her boss showed up carrying a package. He had not really spoken to her since that day in his office. He told her that in the package were tulip bulbs. She looked at him, not understanding what he meant. He said to her that if she planted the bulbs this fall, they would come up in the spring. She still didn't understand what he was trying to tell her. Finally , shuffling his feet and nervously clearing his throat, he told her "I just wanted you to know that I think you'll be there to see them when they come up". With tears in her eyes, she thanked him. He told her that although she couldn't see them now, next spring she would see what colours he had picked out for her, and he turned and left. Suzanne has been cancer-free for ten years now and every spring she sees those red-and-white striped tulips push their way through the soil, reminding her that her friend believed she would live to see them. How do you handle people who are not very nice but find their way into your life? Admiring people who insist on being a friend, even with people who are not very nice. . . it's a good thing.

It's Not Easy Being Green

It's not always easy being a Saskatchewan Rough Rider fan! Sometimes, the stress and the tension is almost more than one can bear. The semi-play-off game yesterday with double - yes double - overtime was excruciating. It was bad enough that the Riders trailed 16 to 7 at the beginning of the game. We had to suffer through half-time knowing that our Riders were trailing. Would they pull it off? Why were they playing so poorly? Then it got worse after half-time: BC stretched their lead to 19-7! Bring out the Rolaids! Bring out the beer! We can't take this anymore! Then, thankfully, things began to turn around - the Riders started playing! Soon we had a 27-20 lead. With only a minute left to play, we began to think we could now celebrate, but no, it wasn't over yet! Curse that Travis Lulay and Emmanuel Arceneaux and their 29 yard pass with no time left on the clock! Had Rider fans not been through enough this afternoon? Could we take anymore? In true Rider spirit, the fans cheered their team on - and on - in double over-time. Happily, the stress, the anxiety and the worry was all worth it in the end. The Riders pulled off a 41-38 win. Now we get to do it all over again in Calgary this week-end. Go Riders! Knowing that Saskatchewan fans bleed green no matter what happens . . . it's a good thing!

Canadian Banks

As I was driving to work today, I drove by a couple new bank buildings, and that got me to thinking about our banking system. We are so fortunate to have such solid and safe banks in Canada. While other countries are experiencing major fallouts from their failing bank systems, our banks are secure. Sure, they charge us too much to use our bank cards and to access our own money, and yes, they have outrageous fees for everything they do for us. We often shake our heads in disbelief at the enormous salaries their executives earn. But at the end of the day, we can rest assured that our life savings, our pensions and our entire banking system is secure. I don't claim to totally understand how banks and money markets work, but it is very obvious that Canadian banking regulations are working, because we have managed to avoid the pitfalls that other countries have not. We are a shining example of success in a sea of failing and broken institutes throughout the world. Our banks are not in need of government bailouts, no one has lost money and the confidence in our banks remains strong. Knowing that you live in a country with one of the safest banking systems in the world . . . it's a good thing.

Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day is growing in significance every year. Young people, who in the past generally ignored the tradition of wearing poppies, now do so with pride, respect and thankfulness. All generations are attending Remembrance Day Services in record numbers. We all feel the need to thank veterans, including our new veterans who are returning from Afghanistan, in a way we never have felt before. Perhaps it is because of Afghanistan, the phenomenon of the Highway of Heroes and the death of our first female soldier that we are becoming more passionate about honouring our veterans. For the first time ever, there were no WW I veteran this year - they are now all gone. It now becomes even more important to honour their sacrifices, and to never forget what they did for us. We must continue to teach our children that the many rights they now enjoy were fought for by very brave men and women. As we look at the suffering of people in countries which do not have the freedoms and rights we have, we realize how very fortunate we are. Just as our parents and grand-parents were touched by wars, buried their soldiers and welcomed home those who survived, our generation is experiencing war and we are sending our own sons and daughters to fight. Those who return will also need to be honoured for many years to come. Remembrance Day is the day to remember all the wars we have faced as a nation, to thank our soldiers and to reflect on how fortunate we are. Remembering and being grateful to the men and women in our armed forces - present and past . . . it's a good thing!

My Walking Doll

I was about five years old when I saw my first "walking doll". A walking doll was a doll which stood about the height of a three-year-old and if you moved her arms, she would "walk". The ads on TV promised that a walking doll would bring me total happiness and that I would spend countless hours enjoying my new friend. I just had to have one! I begged my parents for one for Christmas, promising that I would be forever happy and would always behave from now on, if only I had a walking doll! For good measure, I also begged my Grandma for one, telling her that I would just die if I didn't get a walking doll for Christmas. On Christmas morning, I awoke early and as I, my brother and sister excitedly ran to the tree, there she was! My beautiful walking doll. She had long blond hair, blue eyes and wore a green dress with little blue and white squares. I was ecstatic! It was true what they had said in the commercials: she did bring joy and fulfillment into my life. I would love her forever, which I did - until we got to Grandma's house for Christmas supper. There was another beautiful walking doll - this one with short curly brown hair and big brown eyes. I promptly decided I loved her more than my first doll. However, after some discussion, Grandma and Mom decided that I should keep the first doll and the second doll would be returned. I pouted for a little while, but soon I was in love again with my perfect walking doll. Out of all my toys, she is one of the few I still have! She stands guard in my bedroom to this day, in her original dress and shoes, as shown in the picture. The denim jacket is an addition - it was worn by both my boys when they were little. Toys that become lifelong friends . . . it's a good thing!

It's Only Words

Have you ever noticed how some words sound like they should mean something other than what they actually mean? For example: Yemen. It is the name of a country, but doesn't "yemen" sound like it should be an expression of excellence, as in "That song is totally yemen!"? Another example is the name of former U.S. Secretary of State Condalisa Rice. Now tell me, doesn't that name sound like a swear? Imagine it: you accidentally hit your thumb with a hammer and you yell out "CON-DA LE-E-E-SA RICE!!!" And what about Israel's Benjamin Nentanyahu? Doesn't "Nentanyahu" sound like a medical term for plugged sinuses? I can hear my doctor telling me to "take this prescription until it is finished and your sinuses should feel better. And don't worry - Nentanyahu is not contagious". Another misguided word is ramekin. A ramekin is a small dish, but really sounds like it should be something an Egyptian soldier would wear into battle. A wife runs after her husband who is leaving to fight the enemy and she yells to him "Akhem, don't forgot to wear your ramekin - it could save your life". And why is Corsica the name of a country when it clearly should be the name of a dance? C'mon, everybody, grab a partner and let's Corsica! Words which are too much fun to be taken seriously . . . it's a good thing!

The Front Porch

One of the many things I love about grand old houses is the front porch. I love driving in older sections of the city just to see the beautiful homes there. Most of them have a huge front porch or veranda. I can almost see the lumber baron (most of the beautiful old homes in my city were built by lumber barons) and his family sitting on a Sunday afternoon enjoying tea and lemonade and visiting with people walking by on the street. Front porches conger up images an era long gone. Some more modern homes also have front verandas and their occupants use them a lot. I know a couple who own a thirty-year old house with a small front porch. They have a bistro table and a couple chairs on it and often sit there and enjoy their coffee. The first time I sat on the front porch with my friend, I felt transported back in time where life was a little slower and neighbors looked out for each other. As my friend and I sat and visited, neighbors passed by and stopped to talk . He knew the names of all the kids in his neighborhood and of all his neighbors. He said he met most of them while sitting on his front porch! Compare that to my house with its back deck where the only people you ever see might be your "across the back"neighbor. I think every house should have a front porch so that we truly become neighborhoods again and know and take care of each other. Front porches and vibrant neighborhoods . . . it's a good thing!

The Need to Help

It seems lately that every time you open up a newspaper, especially the weeklies, there is a story of yet one more community fundraiser, at which people rally together to raise money to send one of their own MS sufferers to receive the Liberation Treatment. People living with MS are overwhelmed as their communities put on fund-raising events and local halls fill with attendees. Incredible amounts of money are being raised and handed over in the hope that this new treatment will give people back their lives. I am amazed at the generosity shown by people across our province. Perhaps it is because so many of us have friends and family who suffer from MS. Perhaps it is simply because we believe that everyone deserves to have the best life possible. There is no doubt that our province is inhabited by people with a social conscious that never allows them to ignore a person in need. I think this social conscious and our belief in the greater good is what makes our province so unique. We are descendants of people who had to work together and take care of each other through long cold winters and hot unpredictable summers. The "need to help" must be in our genes! Helping each other because it's the right thing to do . . . it's a good thing!

Lana

In my job, I often advocate for people who are having problems with government agencies. There are far too many times when the rules are so rigid that I can't help the people who need it the most. The other day, I was feeling very discouraged when once again I had to deliver bad news. This time it was to a young single mom for whom I could find was no solution to her problem, knowing that she and her young child would soon find themselves on the street with no where to live. I was feeling very sad, thinking about the many people I have not been able to help, when I suddenly remembered Lana. I had been working at this job for a few short years when Lana walked into my office in tears. She was about to lose her student loan because she had missed too many days of school. She was going to university to become a social worker. Lana was a single mother who had found herself in an abusive relationship. Things got so bad that she feared for her life. She took her baby and moved out. It took time to get her life back into order. In the upheaval, she was forced to miss many days of school, however managed to keep up with her assignments. Then, just as she was feeling that she was back in control of her life, she received a letter informing her that her student loan was being revoked. She phoned Student Loans Office and explained why she had missed so much school and that she had managed to keep up with her assignments, but they told her there was nothing they could do. When Lana walked into our office, she was desperate and she was terrified. She knew that getting her education was the only way to ensure a solid future for her and her child, and now that was being taken away from her. I knew it wasn't going to be easy but I really admired this young girl, so I worked hard on her case. After a week of going through several layers of bureaucracy and repeating Lana's story and pleading on her behalf, and just when I thought it was hopeless, I got a call that Lana's case had been reconsidered and they would restore her funding. Lana was so happy when I told her that I knew it had been worth all the effort. Lana thanked me and told me how grateful she was. I said my usual "just doing my job, you don't have to thank me", but I was so happy for her. Lana left my office that day and I went on to other cases and projects at work. Days turned into months and months into years. Some three years after Lana's funding had been restored, I got a phone call. The caller said, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Lana. Three years ago you helped me with my Student Loan problem. I'm just calling to thank you and to tell you that today is my convocation. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. Thank you". Sometimes, even if you don't win them all, the ones that you do win make it all worthwhile. Knowing that the Lana's of the world are going to be ok . . . it's a good thing!

A Beautiful Day In Saskatchewan

Where else but in Saskatchewan can November bring temperatures of -20 or +14? The beauty of living in a part of the world where -20 is common for several months each year, is how much we appreciate an unexpected 14 degree day in one of our normally cold months. I am one of the first people to complain about cold weather, and go on about how much I hate snow, and question why I stay here in the first place. But without that cold, miserable weather, how would we appreciate the nice days? Just think, if you lived in California or Florida, you would not truly appreciate the great weather because that would be the norm. Here in Saskatchewan, we are so grateful for beautiful days because we know it can be so much worse. While I would enjoy a nice mild winter, I know I will appreciate those days so much more if they follow a week or two of -30 weather! Loving where you live, even during the cold days, because you know they help you appreciate the nice days . . . it's a good thing!

Brought To Tears . . By Canadian Tire?

I have been known to shed a tear during a sad movie. I've cried my way through more than one chick-flick. One thing I have never done is to be driven to tears by a commerical - until today. Canadian Tire has a new commercial wherein an elderly mother is looking out the window and sadly comments to her adult daughter that her children (the mother's) used to love to decorate the big tree outside in the front yard every Christmas. Then she comments on how she wishes she would see her sons more often. The daughter replies that the boys are busy and then says to her mother that they should go into town. The mother, looking very lonely as they drive away, stares out of the vehicle at the tree. While they are away, her sons and their families drive up and haul out lights and decorations (in Canadian Tire bags, of course) and decorate the tree. Just as the mother and daughter drive into the drive-way, the lights are turned on and the sons and grand-children pour out of the house. That short one-minute ad had me in tears this morning. (I'm in tears just writing about it!) I don't know what it is exactly that gets me about this commercial. Maybe it's because I love Christmas with all the decorations, family gatherings and presents. Maybe it is because I am the mother of boys. Maybe it is because my own elderly mother just said good-bye to her son who is moving far away. If the intention of the advertiser was to create a "chick-flick" type of emotion, they have succeeded! Well done, Canadian Tire! Appreciating a great commercial and maybe even shedding a tear or two over it . . . it's a good thing!

Halloween Done Right

Thank God for people like Ed and Pat. Everything they do, they do well! They are incredible hosts, have a beautiful front and back yard, Ed is a fascinating story teller who loves politics and history, and Pat creates magic in her kitchen. And they do holidays like no one else! Yesterday was Halloween and they did not let their neighborhood down. Their home and yard was decorated with ghosts, pumpkins and monsters. This incredible couple put many hours of work into their yard of horror. Little trick or treaters squeal with delight at the many ghouls along the sidewalk to the front door. Spooky music drifts through the air. Everywhere you look there are orange lights, ghosts, skeletons and Halloween ornaments. They bring so much pleasure to their little guests. What is even more incredible is that by nine or ten o'clock at night, they take down their decorations to save them from vandals so that they will have them for next year's Halloween creation. They do all this for no other reason than to bring joy to the trick or treaters who gather up enough courage to walk through their yard and knock on their door. The world really needs more people like Pat and Ed. Having friends who are truly "good people" . . . it's a good thing!