Boxing Day madness

In an ironic twist of events, a family member ended up in hospital today. I don't have any large metaphysical questions as to whether God is capable of punishing us in return for wrongs we have done, or other such related questions. However, seeing as it came rather quickly on the heels of everything else that has recently transpired, one would understandably wonder.
Now, I have only once experienced the patient side of the emergency room previously, but this was crazy! Sure, there were people who clearly did not look well, but there were also clearly people who were lining up who, from eyeballing them clinically, sure didn't look in need of emergency services. Some sure looked like they would have been better suited being in a mall somewhere and shopping.
Myself, having had to work today, mainly saw a whole whack of colds, though almost everyone made it seem like their sniffles were the worst thing to ever inflict a human being ever. I am quite sure I did my bit to make sure the emergency departments weren't overrun by useless consults, but I still question people's judgement. The one, sincerely sick teen that I did see was so ill, I was surprised he was even able to make it across the parking lot, but the mother didn't want to bring him in any earlier, as it was Christmas Day, and then today, he was forced to go to church first before he could go see a doctor. Bah.

Peace on earth, goodwill towards men

This actually is not a pithy treatise about the beauty and glory of Christmas (I am so sorry, Jesus, that we have a) created this made-up holiday to celebrate Your birthday, even though You never told us to, and b) that we have made it to be this holiday of getting together and presents and 'family time', rather than about You anyways).
This year, I can understand why some people think Christmas is actually one of the most loneliest and painful times of year. For, you see, there was a big family row today ('cause hell, if you're going to have a family row, the best time to do it would stereotypically be Christmas Day, the day when tradition and media dictate that you must get along with everyone in order to have the most Norman Rockwellian day ever). I thought to myself, I've had enough of these nuts and fruitcakes, I'm going home. Had myself a long hard run, made a cup of tea, and am now contemplating a truly silent night.
Remembering other friends who have told me that the same, haunting skeletons in everyone's closets come out at Christmas (why not Hallowe'en? Wouldn't that make more sense?), or of other friends who tell me they dread getting together with their extended families reminds me that many, if not most, people are not satisfactorily happy on Christmas, even if they do have other people to spend it with (remember, it was Sartre who did note that hell was other people). Sure, it is nice to have a good reason in the deep of winter to see your family members all together, in one place, but I wonder if all the expectation and hype that is associated with the secular aspects of Christmas is worth the trouble. Maybe if there was less pressure on producing the perfect turkey, and more on the saving graciousness of God, maybe we'd get somewhere...

People really hate me.

Sometimes I find when I read the papers online, I pay less attention to the actual news item, but instead mainly read the commentaries posted with the story. I have often been saddened by reading about what the usual timbre of people's opinions are on most topics; opinions that are self-righteous, or mean-spirited, or pragmatic without mercy, or bleeding-heart without brains.
I was recently reading about a family conflict between Christians and non-believing family members, and the commentaries went on for miles! The vast majority of the commentaries spoke about how judgmental and bigoted we are, how dumb-headed, how cultish, how we should be eliminated, how the world would be better off without such hateful, amoral, hypocritical people.
Sure, there were a few, lonely voices that had pointed out that this conflict really had nothing to do with religion (true), and that the posters shouldn't be too hasty to judge and jump on the issue. One also pointed out whether the tables were turned in this conflict, whether people would be just as quick to jump all over the bandwagon and write such awful things about the non-believing family members.
However, this does make me reflect on how we think we are so loving and good, and it's just that society doesn't 'get' us because we are not 'of' the world. We play up our victimhood by saying we should expect persecution because that is what happens when you 'stand up' for Jesus. I think that's bullshit. When society hates us that much, and cannot even recognize any of the good at all, there is a problem. If the previous paragraph is what we are known for, I don't care what kind of rhetoric we talk about not being of the world, and we are to accept that we ONLY get treated that way because that is what is supposed to happen. Being 'hated' by the world because we are hypocritical and judgmental is NOT a good reason, and not a reason why we would be persecuted in the first place. We need to seriously reconsider what we actually mean by being in this world...

Don't even ask me about zebra toast...

OK, so some of you are well aware of the myriads of stories that my sister and I tell about our parents for they are, frankly, a bit strange. However, this one has been so oft repeated, and yet so incredulously true, I figured I should note it down for posterity's sake.
My parents, when they travel, tend to carry around a few instant noodle bowls in their luggage. Why? In case, wherever their destination happens to be, they don't care for the particular cuisine that is presented to them, they can eat something that they know they'll like. Furthermore, my father is stereotypically Asian in that he does not know how to navigate a kitchen, and has his wife prepare and serve all of the food that he consumes.
So, on one particular vacation, they were in their hotel room. My mother decides she is going to take a shower. My father decides that he would like to have some food. He decides he is going to microwave some food to eat. So he takes out his little microwaveable container, and is delighted to find a microwave in the hotel room that they are staying in.
He pops in the food, closes the door, and presses 1:30. Nothing happens.
He tries again. Still, nothing happens: No lights, no whirring noises, nothing at all. Well, he is entirely perplexed: he's basically used all the knowledge he has of microwave ovens, and this has got him stumped.
So, he toddles over to the bed, sits down, and waits for my mother to finish her shower.
She comes out, and he asks her why, even though he's put the food into the microwave, and pushed the buttons, he hasn't been able to cook himself some food.
She wanders over to the microwave and says, "That's no microwave!"
(Here comes the punchline): "That's the security deposit box!"
Sadly, this does foretell the fact that if my mother dies first, my father will die within a week or two of starvation.

Whoo boy, I'm looking forward to the UK

I respect children profoundly. I think that they are the wisest amongst us, but we adults (ie. parents) unfortunately twist and mar and distort them such that they absorb our fears, our anxieties, our biases and our blinders. I cannot help but look at a child that could have been so much more, so much better, so much more noble, had their home circumstances just been... different.
This leads me to the point that I think I really am heading to a point of burn-out in aspects of my job. How so? For the first time ever, I made two different parents cry, and not for joy (that happens way more often). Why? For my chastisement of their ideas and fears that they were transferring onto their children. And you know what? I didn't care. At all.
Sure, you can say, easy for you to say; you don't have to raise any. Sure, I will say back: but I know and recognize my shortcomings, and am not so self-centred and self-aggrandized that I believe that I am capable and worthy enough to be transforming and forming and molding one of these little ones. Better for me to have a millstone hung around my neck and be thrown into the sea...

God with us; us with others?

I think one of the difficulties in the month of December, which happens to also be one of the joys, is the amount of socializing involved in the month. Besides the obvious reason of it being Christmas for this phenomenon to occur, there is the additional imperative in getting people out of their homes in the dark and dreary winter, and spending time in the company of others.
However, there are clearly downsides to all of this: I am already noting the lack of time I have to spend in contemplating the Advent season; every year I say to myself, "Self, it is time to contemplate this season; not necessarily whether we should be celebrating it at all or no, or our practices as to how we do so, but at least the sentiment and the motivations behind our celebrations", but then I don't, as I rush rush rush from one occasion to another. I am already tired from the first weekend of December, having been to five different evening events in three evenings (yes, you may rightly ask; how can you validly do that and actually develop authentic relationship with people as you run around, imbibing drinks and making small talk? That is a GREAT question that I cannot adequately answer).
I am not sure how to balance the Saturnalia/winter solstice-type aspects of our celebration along with the real celebration that is supposed to make this all worthwhile. All the food and drink laid out in its splendour, when the refugee king had nothing more than His mother's breast to feed upon. All the cheer, good will and rosy cheeks - due in no small part from the great Gift that was given to us - but I still long for something deeper, something profoundly good, something that pierces my heart with the absolute, utter greatness of the sentiment of the season. Is this just me?

Mr. Mean and the Three Stooges

is pretty much how to sum up this past week's events.

It's not exactly walking on water, but...

This semester I've been co-ordinating a missions course, as some of you well know. There have been some personal great blessings from it, as well as great disappointments as the semester has been progressing. However, one small thing that has not ceased to amaze me is how He has managed to make me not late, ever, for getting there to prep and to pray. This is amazing, in that I have to leave exactly at 1600hrs from the office in order to make it home, maybe get some time to eat something, and then get over to the course. However, when's the last time that a doctor's office ever ends exactly on time?
Now, I am a dictator with the clock, so I rarely go overtime by more than five minutes, however, when a minute here and there accumulate, it doesn't take long before you're 20-30 minutes over time (which is why, people, it's important to get to your doctor's offices on time!). Usually, I can't free myself from patient chatter and paperwork till about 1630hrs on a usual day.
Incredibly, however, week after week this entire semester, I have been done seeing patients, finished my charting, EVERYTHING, and clear to go by 1600hrs at the very latest. This is nothing short than a miracle, week after week.
I keep on walking around, holding my breath, waiting for my "luck" to run out, and it has not yet. I suspect it is no longer luck. Even this afternoon, with the slots booked up to the rafters, and several chronic late-arrivals on the list, I still managed to finish everything by 1553hrs. Amazing. Somehow, every single person this afternoon actually showed up early for their appointments. Amazing.
To me, this is a small miracle, as this does not happen on a regular, consistent basis, at all. Heck, I've even had a bit of time to blog about this before I head out! Now that is something that is praise-worthy...

Lilliputian

So last night was the first night, in a long while, that I was the shortest person in the room, by at least 2-3 inches. That was a nice change from the usual from either being fairly average or fairly tall. I know lots of short people complain that they don't like always being the smallest person in the room, but I kind of liked it. In some ways, it made me feel safer, I guess. Like I was surrounded by a wall of big people.
In contrast, in several hours, I will be the tallest person at dinner. Funny that, why I'm noticing height over all other aspects of dinner...

Intangible Morpheus

So, sleep has been an elusive and transient journeyman in my life, as some of you may well know, for various reasons. One thing, however, heartened me that I read recently. The Globe and Mail reported that our propensity to have a straight eight hours may not likely have been the normal sleep patterns of earlier peoples. They suggested that even as recently as the 19th century (ie. anything that is pre-industrial Europe), people would have slept only 3-4 hours at a time, waking up for an hour or two in the middle of the night in order to keep fires going, to check on bread rising, to watch for potential enemies, to make love, to care for braying animals, etc, and then would have another slumber into the dawn. They further suggest that people, like myself, may simply be mirroring how most of society has habitually slept through the ages.
The only problem is, however, that globally, our society now does not allow the 10-12 hours that this type of sleep-cycling requires. It requires that one has about 6-7 hours to sleep every day, and if one needs any longer than this, then they are slothful, lazy, or worse.
Sigh. At any rate, it is good to know that I'm not historically aberrant, just societally aberrant. But I knew that already...

Keeping up with the Joneses

I'm kind of embarrassed: I keep up with quite a few friends' blogs, and, though some have not posted for months, if not weeks, I still do check them regularly. However, one of my friends, who mainly writes about her experiences of food (particularly Chinese food), throwing in a few recipes here and there as well, has had three posts (count 'em! THREE!) over the past weekend.
I'm trying hard by putting this one up too, so at least I can say I had two this weekend, I guess.
I have been up to interesting things here and there, but nothing concrete enough in my head to try to put down on paper (or screen, as it were) yet. I did go over to a friend's church this morning, where he has recently taken over as their pastor. I totally love listening to his preaching, as I always find I learn something significant every time I hear him from the pulpit. Today was no exception to that rule.
However, I've realized it's a challenge to be clergy. I realize that it is an isolating life, which is ironic in a faith that depends on community to have it run properly. However, clergy, being in positions of authority and as the moral compass of the community, need to be able to keep their bearings straight for the sake of the community. Their accountability, their socializing, their ability to really let loose and be themselves, can only really be done in the context and the safety of their friends outside of the church. It is funny, in a way, to see him preach, knowing him as I do, in ways that his congregation does not.
I imagine it is also even more isolating in the context that he is unmarried while serving in this congregation. I think, after a bunch of us went to his ordination service, that I'm his first friend to come to his regular service. After the service was over, I couldn't stay long, but he asked if I wanted to stay a bit for the coffee time. Certainly, I said, but I don't want your congregation thinking that I'm your girlfriend or something. Well, he said, that would actually probably make my life easier. Turns out, several of the older congregants have already suggested hooking him up with daughters and granddaughters, and there are a few single women in the congregation as well. So, I said, sure, I'll be your imaginary girlfriend for now, and then you can dump me when it's convenient for you. We'll see if that has them laying off on him for a while, though I don't think I looked like I was that much competition, to be sure...

Banana boys and girls

I went to go watch the highly-acclaimed Banana Boys with a Japanese friend of mine yesterday. We laughed, we cried, we were moved by the depiction of five Chinese-Canadian boys just trying to find themselves and make it in the world today.
It made us wonder afterwards if we should've invited a few of our white friends to come with us, to see if it made sense to them, if it resonated as deeply for them as it did for us. We somehow felt, no, likely not; probably they would've laughed at the same sequences as we did, not from a deep personal understanding, but because it was just plain funny.
It is interesting how we can turn those things that are the deepest point of pain into humour. How racial incidents and stereotypes can be laughed at, even as we "take it, taaaake it!". And so, we chuckle to ourselves, bracing ourselves for the inevitable onslaught of reality, as we deal with the un-funny real world...

Oh, unionized civil servants are useless!

There's a bunch of happier things to write about, but I am going to speak at how useless our government service representatives are, in BOTH official languages.
I am trying to access a government website in order to pay my taxes. You would figure the government would be interested in such things, as that helps fund their very useless civil servants. However, while trying to access it, the site tells me that my browser in not supported for this function. So, I try another browser: again, I am prevented from accessing the government website.
Confused, I call Revenue Canada. The guy who answers tells me that only IE and Netscape are browsers capable of supporting this particular tax site. Excuse me??? I say, but you should very well know that NOBODY has used Netscape, since, oh, 1994!!!! Furthermore, I point out, it biased in favour of the PC users as Mac users (like myself) would not use IE for Mac if it was the last browser on earth.
The guy says, well, that's just the way that it is. I ask, Is Revenue Canada planning on catching up with the 21st century and use browsers that most people are using now? He says, no. I ask, well, how do you expect me to pay my taxes online if you don't use browsers that are supported by many people? He says, well, maybe you need to rethink what kind of computer you have.
Suffice it to say, that nobody knows who I need to complain to in order to have them consider upgrading the browser servers. But I suppose that just goes to show that industries like the public sector that have no reason or motivation to actually help people, can do so with impunity...

Yes, we can

In light of the whole earth, waiting with baited breath, to see who would be the next leader of the "free world", I write on the day after. I think I've found the whole American election process entertaining to watch, extremely long to the point of exhausting, and thankfully finally over. I am glad with the choice that was made, even though it actually will likely be a bit more difficult for Canada, diplomatically-wise, with this administration-elect.
That being said. if I was Obama's mother, I would be really upset. She spent her whole life raising this child, after his African father left the family when he was quite small, raising him, essentially as a white child, and all the attention has gone to his colour and his father's racial background. I am noting that there have been many stories about his father's hometown in Kenya, and how Kenyans have been celebrating, however, I do question that just because he has some Kenyan DNA in him, whether that, in and of itself, makes him "black" or "African-American". However, it seems that his mother's predominant role and culture in his life has taken a massive back seat in the persona that has been created for him. As such, as his mother, I'd be upset that my culture was basically negated in the formation of my child into the man that he became. This would be particularly poignant if the father of my child had basically no role in child-rearing.
At any rate, I suspect, besides many other factors, that one of the main reasons why he won is the illusion of hope that he represents. How he will fulfill that, I am not sure. However, it bemuses me that the whole world is waiting on Obama to be the fulfillment of hope. Our whole planet is hoping that this one man will change the world. I wonder how we have descended into such folly to believe that one mortal man will be able to change the heart of mankind. I myself do not find hope in man, even if he is Barack Obama. A friend of mine put it best when he said that hope is not found in a political campaign, but in an empty tomb. Amen, amen, amen to that.

What's the obsession about flaming pieces of charcoal?

I do have a counter on my website, though it's invisible. What's fascinating to me are the routes by which people end up on my website. Besides the regular readers (some of which I know, most of which I don't), I somehow end up on quite a few google searches. Do you know what the most common one is? I apparently come up quite a bit when you google 'heap burning coals on head' (try it!). What makes me wonder, however, is why so many people, all over the planet, are googling that particular phrase...

A normal blog post

This weekend has been particularly punishing, though I loved every bit of it. Today, having to accompany a parent to a doctor's appointment, I arrived early, and promptly took a two hour nap, which caused my parents to wonder if I was sick or not.
However, it's been a jam-packed session: Not only did I take in a few short-term mission reports, I then had to awake early to prep for my nephew's birthday party, hung around for that, made dinner for four and hosted a board games and dinner night, participated in worship for our baptism service, went to a luncheon reception for one of the newly dunked, hosted another small group meeting at my house, had barely shooed them out the door when a missionary serving in East Asia came over (on short notice; their agency needed a place for them to stay) for the night, for which we went for dinner and regaled each other with stories 'from the field'. Breakfast and tidying up this morning while my guest slept, followed by getting them safely to their next destination, resulted in me going to my parents' house to sleep. The end. No wonder I think my life outside of work is much more interesting than work itself! I suppose this also explains why I've been a bit sluggish in posting regularly!

Inspiring men

What is funny is who inspires me. This past weekend, I had gone to dinner with people who are all committed to the cause of eradicating child prostitution and trafficking in Cambodia. Sure, we had some good food, and some great desserts, but what thrilled me was the presence of men. Admittedly, I've known these men in this group for a while, but it encourages me in that they are two in number, in a sea of women committed to the cause.
Listening to them speak eloquently of what it means to them, as men, while confronting the causes of human trafficking, of dealing with their own notions of masculine sexuality, makes me admire and respect them all the more. The fact that they speak so boldly to other men, challenging their notion of what it means to "be a man", and encouraging them to face up to their own sexual desires and fears, such that they would also be free to fight on behalf of little girls is quite something to behold.
This ties into a dear friend of mine, who works with college aged students, mainly men, who lamented as to why men think it's cool to be apathetic and not to care. He has been trying to figure out that question in order to inspire his guys to seek the Kingdom, to be passionate, to really live.
I am not sure of the answer to that; I know it's multifactorial, and I certainly have some ideas as to why this is, but watching L and A talk, and seeing their passion for the liberation of thousands of little girls reminds me that though they are rare, men of nobility do indeed still walk amongst us.

Slow Food at it's best

So, I've been spending the last few free days that I've had at home, making preserves and sauces for the winter. So far, I've made apple crisp filling, apple butter and crushed tomatoes. I still have several jars more to make of apple butter, and then I'd like to think that I'm done for the autumn - we shall see how that goes.
I think there is a lot of tranquility and beauty in preparing and stirring produce, making sauces and jams, and thinking of the people who provided me with the fruits and vegetables that I'm preserving. It is nice to think that all of the apples and tomatoes I will be eating this winter are fresh, organic and made with lots of love by people who care for me! The careful stirring, the addition of spices and salts, the aromas that rise from my little kitchen, the bubbling of the canning pot - all of these things bring a simple joy and quiet, and harkens me back to a time when this was the only way to prepare for the winter's cold. Seeing the long lines of jars, with their bejeweled reds and golds, bring about a sense of accomplishment and beauty to my pantry shelves!
If we still lived in a society where we were wholly dependent on the abundance of our land, and the mercy of God, to feed us, then this would be the way we would be fed when the howling winter winds blow. However, we have largely abandoned that; I know I can easily find a banana, or a tomato, on Toronto streets in the dead of winter if I so choose. It sometimes seems to me that we have lost the acknowledgement of God's great and generous hand in providing for our very nourishment by His seasons, as we have taken control over the food supply, allowing us to have all the food we want, whenever we want it. This is particularly poignant today, as it is Thanksgiving. Our abundance of food consumed this weekend is often sadly separated from the original celebration; the original settlers would thank our great Father for providing yet another good harvest and for their well-stocked larders for the coming winter, celebrating with the abundance of what they had gathered in. Today, we are no longer sure where anything we put in our mouths come from, whether it's the tinned pumpkin pie filling, or the fruit from everywhere (and nowhere), or the disproportionate turkey. Now, I love Thanksgiving dinner as much as the next guy, but I often wonder how deep our thanks can be to God the Father, if we are not truly dependent on His hand for our daily bread...

Better than a kick in the teeth...

I will have some more interesting things to post in the future, as soon as I get some time, but I do need to share this story, even though it didn't happen to me.
So the other day in the clinic, the unfortunate doc who was on got struck by a pretty bad stomach flu, so was running back and forth from the bathroom between seeing patients. She, of course, could not go home and leave the clinic unmanned, for, heaven forbid that a doctor be allowed to be sick and go home from the office early. She was trying her best to keep up with the onslaught without getting into big trouble with her bowels.
One patient comes in, and, because she had been waiting a whole (gasp!) twenty minutes to be seen by the doctor, starts making a ruckus with the secretaries. She complains how if she was in a life and death situation, then the clinic would be in biiiiig trouble for making her wait so long to see a doctor. It's explained to her that the doctor's gone to the bathroom, and, frankly, if it was a life or death situation, she'd be far better off in the local emergency department, for, in a small clinic, if you're in a life or death situation, death will surely win. She then states, bald-faced to the doctor, "How dare you go to the bathroom? You guys are not allowed to go to the bathroom when you're on shift!".
Personally, I would've punched her in the face, or at the very least, refused to see her, especially under the circumstances. However, our good doctor did not, and asked how she could help this jerk. Well, her so-called life and death situation was that she needed a new requisition to go for a test, for she had had her previous one eaten by her dog. That, my friends, is the self-centredness and idiocy that makes up the Canadian public, I'm afraid...

Lying bastard!

I can't believe the audacity of people and their sheer selfishness... the other day, a girl comes into the clinic, saying that she had had a vacation day several Fridays previously, but Human Resources was asking for a doctor's note for the day. I clarified, as that didn't make sense to me; why would Human Resources require a physician's note for what is a legitimate vacation day? She stated that was 'just the way' that her company worked.
That totally didn't make sense to me, and I tried to clarify several times as to why her employer would need a doctor's sick note for a vacation day. At any rate, I then shrugged my shoulders, and proceeding to write a note about how this patient had had a vacation day several Fridays beforehand, but that Human Resources was asking for a physician's note, so I was complying by writing a physician's note. Of course, our sick notes do have a fee associated with them, charged to the patient.
So she picks up her note, reads it, and then comes back to me, saying, "No, I need a note saying that I was at the doctor's office that day.".
"Excuse me??", I say. You had a vacation day, you were never seen by a physician that day several weeks prior, it was conveniently a Friday, and I am certainly not going to write a note for you saying you were seeing a doctor, for, you see, that would be LYING and FRAUD. Somehow she seemed totally unfazed by this, but then demanded her money back for the note that would not have gotten very far with her employer. I'd like to say that I denied her her money, just to teach her a lesson about lying, but I didn't. I am hoping, even though I don't believe in karma, that she gets something coming to her for trying to deceive me.

Sweet poetic justice

So, I was driving around town doing multiple errands today, and one of the areas I went through was a fairly long school zone at 40km/hr. So I was driving along at about 45km/hr, with some guy tail-gating me. He then swerves around me, gives me the finger through his window, drives another block, and then gets pulled over by a cop! Bwahahahahahahahaaaaaa, I couldn't help saying as I kept driving through the school zone. So there, bozo!

Eulogy for the family farm

So I spent a good chunk of my weekend helping out a farmer friend harvesting his apple crop, which I try to do every year. So there I was, amongst his Jamaican workers, picking apples off of trees, deciding which ones were good enough to bring to market, and which ones would have to stay home and be used for personal use. Of course, those ones would be the ones determined "too ugly" or "too deformed" to eat, the ones that consumers would eschew, thinking there was something wrong with them, when really, a fruit growing too closely to a twig, or struck by inclement weather would be the only cause for the lack of perfection.
A few small anecdotal observations this year:
1. The staggering number of Jamaicans (I was told about 5,000+ people!) coming up every year through the temporary worker's visas, in order to try to make decent wages for their families back home, many of them coming from March through November, staying home for three months, and returning again, year after year, leaves me scratching my head. Why do we have such economic systems in place that we take cheap labour from other countries that takes them away from their families and communities for significant chunks of the year? Why are there no safeguards for them? The workers I met were quite happy with the situation that they found themselves in with my friend, but there are stories of outright abuse against some of these workers. Why do Canadians complain that there are not enough jobs for them, when perhaps it's simply that we don't want to participate in jobs for "untouchables"? We don't seem to mind hiring foreign workers to glean our food, to raise our children, and to construct our buildings, some of the most fundamental jobs of all, as long as we don't have to pay them too much.
2. A few climate change notes:
a) There were still many, many mosquitoes out and actively biting! This is a first for me, as I am quite used to them pretty much being gone from Southern Ontario by this time of year. I was told that they had noticed it was a strange summer, much warmer and wetter (well, that part we all noticed), allowing the mosquitoes to thrive longer than usual. How this bodes for their preparations for next year, well, I guess we'll see when we go camping!
b) They had also told me that there was much hail, besides the rain, this year, destroying a good quarter of their orchard. Arriving there, I noticed huge swaths of trees were gone - all destroyed by the repeated hailstorms they experienced this summer. This is a huge economic blow to a farmer. Which leads me to:
3. So, they are talking about packing it in. Another farmer, biting the dust. Another food producer, in decline and heading to extinction. At their age, the cost of replacing those trees in the orchard, and waiting for them to start producing fruit to pay back their costs, is not worth it. They had decided it wasn't worth the cost nor the time to try to rebuild. Which means they have a smaller number of trees with which to earn their living. Which means that farming becomes less and less viable, year after year. Which means we have that much fewer fruit available to Ontarians. I am not sure why this doesn't worry people, but it happens with stunning rapidity; I just had never encountered a farmer I knew personally, and seen the state of the farm, to actually see it in technicolour...

FFT

I read this on someone else's blog and found it so eloquently put; this is one struggle that I have not been able to see clear around for quite some time, and I'd have to shamefully admit this is where I, and many of my friends and compatriots are heading... or perhaps we are already here...

"Traditionally Christianity has been the religion of the common people. Whenever the upper classes have adopted it in numbers, it has died. Respectability has almost always proved fatal to it.
The reasons back of this are two, one human and the other divine.
Schleiermacher has pointed out that at the bottom of all religion there lies a feeling of dependence, a sense of creature helplessness. The simple man who lives close to the earth lives also close to death and knows that he must look for help beyond himself; he knows that there is but a step between him and catastrophe. As he rises in the social and economic scale, he surrounds himself with more and more protective devices and pushes danger (so he thinks) farther and farther from him. Self-confidence displaces the feeling of dependence he once knew and God becomes less necessary to him. Should he stop to think this through he would know better than to place his confidence in things and people; but so badly are we injured by our moral fall that we are capable of deceiving ourselves completely and, if conditions favor it, to keep up the deception for a lifetime.
Along with the feeling of security that wealth and position bring comes an arrogant pride that shuts tightly the door of the heart to the waiting Savior. Our Very Important Man may indeed honor a church by joining it, but there is no life in his act. His religion is external and his faith nominal. Conscious respectability has destroyed him.
The second reason Christianity tends to decline as its devotees move up the social scale is that God will not respect persons nor share His glory with another. Paul sets this forth plainly enough in his First Corinthians epistle:
For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength. Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him (1 Corinthians 1:25–29).
When God sent His Son to redeem mankind He sent Him to the home of a working man and He grew up to be what we now call a peasant. When He presented Himself to Israel and launched into His earthly ministry, He was rejected by the respectable religionists and had to look for followers almost exclusively from among the poor, plain people. When the Spirit came and the church was founded, its first members were the socially unacceptable. For generations the church drew her numbers from among the lower classes, individual exceptions occurring now and again, of which Saul of Tarsus was the most noteworthy.
During the centuries since Pentecost the path of true Christianity has paralleled pretty closely the path Jesus walked when He was here on earth: it was to be rejected by the great and accepted by the lowly. The institutionalized church has certainly not been poor, nor has she lacked for great and mighty men to swell her membership. But this great church has had no power. Almost always the approval of God has rested upon small and marginal groups whose members were scorned while they lived and managed to gain acceptance only after they had been safely dead several score years.
Today we evangelicals are showing signs that we are becoming too rich and too prominent for our own good. With a curious disregard for the lessons of history we are busy fighting for recognition by the world and acceptance by society. And we are winning both. The great and the mighty are now looking our way. The world seems about to come over and join us. Of course we must make some concessions, but these have almost all been made already except for a bit of compromising here and there on such matters as verbal inspiration, special creation, separation and religious tolerance.
Evangelical Christianity is fast becoming the religion of the bourgeoisie. The well-to-do, the upper middle classes, the politically prominent, the celebrities are accepting our religion by the thousands and parking their expensive cars outside our church doors, to the uncontrollable glee of our religious leaders who seem completely blind to the fact that the vast majority of these new patrons of the Lord of glory have not altered their moral habits in the slightest nor given any evidence of true conversion that would have been accepted by the saintly fathers who built the churches.
Yes, history is a great teacher, but she cannot teach those who do not want to learn. And apparently we do not.

-A.W. Tozer

Gurl power

One of the things that I have been pondering the last little while has been how to approach the issue of women in the church. Not that that should really be an issue in the first place, actually. However, I'm beginning to appreciate that there is a difference between true freedom and freedom-as-we-define-it, which tends to be freedom-to-do-whatever-I-want-damn-the-consequences. I also, for the most part, am under the persuasion that sola Scriptura does actually mean something significant, and that, I cannot ignore.
That being said, I cannot shake the notion that women, despite our inherent stronger abilities to communicate and to identify spiritually in comparison to our male counterparts, have been given the short shrift in the history of the Church. Without question, much of the suffering of women, be it belittlement, abuse, rape, identity as non-persons, castigation to the home, deprivation of education, raising children alone, or living in poverty (all of which, we are well aware, greatly affect far more women than they do men worldwide), can be linked to religious attitudes through the ages. This particularly, in a religion that promotes the idea that Jesus loved and elevated women to positions of respect, and that proclaims that there is no longer male nor female in Christ, bothers me. How can a faith that says such things, and claims to believe such things, continue to act in ways that clearly demonstrate it does not?
Certainly, I know we are fallen creatures, and the good we wish to do and be we fail to fulfill on many occasions. I know also that other divides, such as racial and socio-economic reconciliation, are even wider gaps that still need to be bridged.
But I also wrestle with the fact that church discipline also means something as well, and in our hyper-individualistic culture, just because my feelings or opinions don't jive with where things are at, doesn't necessarily mean that I'm right, and 'they' are wrong. There is a reason for tradition and practice, and I also fully understand the notion of how women are not actually subjugate and are not lowly creatures in the hierarchy of the church. I understand how we rationalize it in words, and I can agree with it, provided we actually lived that way. But we don't, and the practice of mutual submission is sorely lacking. I think also we tend to ignore how the Holy Spirit may be empowering and gifting women to do tasks that we then prevent them from doing, in the name of staying true.
Sigh. It is a difficult business.

Visionaries wanted

Certainly, one of the things that I had been discouraged by this summer was the lack of passion and vision amongst my peers for Kingdom living. The feeling that people were more concerned about being social than about being different from the predominant culture. The feeling that mostly people were hanging around church to go for food or for beer afterwards than they were about falling down at the feet of Almighty God. The feeling that our scope and vision for the Kingdom barely extended beyond our small social circles, and had a barely registered notice for the larger planet. The feeling that people were more concerned about being good than about being righteous.
That being said, it did help me realize that I value those whose passion is the pursuit of the knowledge of God's heart. I realized also that it is those that I most deeply respect; more than those who do good, who perform justice, or who enjoy people more than they enjoy God. I also realized I didn't have to agree with their conclusions on God, but a solid, sincere, orthodox approach was sufficient for respect being due.
It was also heartening for me to be at the grand kick-off for Perspectives and to see the number of bodies there; people who are hopefully keen to learn about Kingdom and see how it grows, not just for here and now, but for all peoples and all time. That was a huge encouragement to me!

Myth busters

You know what is a bit deflating? When a certain myth that you've always cherished gets blasted out of the water! I had recently had a discussion with some friends, and they completely demolished one slightly antiquated, though charming, myth that I held dear. Sigh. So, I had to re-orient my worldview and figure out what that meant to my reality. It's unfortunate when you believe something like, say, that peanut butter always tastes better with a touch of jam, but then get jarred to the fact that, no, mustard also goes well with it, as does bacon (what?!?!). How can this be? I've believed that all my life! Now what am I to do?

FFT

...and it is clear to anyone who looks carefully at any crowd that we are wasting our bodies exactly as we are wasting our land. Our bodies are fat, weak, joyless, sickly, ugly, the virtual prey of the manufacturers of medicine and cosmetics. Our bodies have become marginal; they are growing useless like our "marginal" land because we have less and less use for them. After the games and idle flourishes of modern youth, we use them only as shipping cartons to transport our brains and our few employable muscles back and forth to work.
As for our spirits, they seem more and more to comfort themselves by buying things. No longer in need of the exalted drama of grief and joy, they feed now on little shocks of greed, scandal, and violence. For many of the churchly, the life of the spirit is reduced to a dull preoccupation with getting to Heaven. At best, the world is no more than an embarrassment and a trial to the spirit, which is otherwise radically separated from it. The true lover of God must not be burdened with any care or respect for His works. While the body goes about its business of destroying the earth, the soul is supposed to lie back and wait for Sunday, keeping itself free of earthly contaminants. While the body exploits other bodies, the soul stands aloof, free from sin, crying to the gawking by-standers: "I am not enjoying it!" As far as this sort of "religion" is concerned, the body is no more than the lusterless container of the soul, a mere "package," that will nevertheless light up in eternity, forever cool and shiny as a neon cross. This separation of the soul from the body and from the world is no disease of the fringe, no aberration, but a fracture that runs through the mentality of institutional religion like a geologic fault. And this rift in the mentality of religion continues to characterize the modern mind, no matter how secular or worldly it becomes.

-Wendell Berry, of course

No Listeria for me, thank you very much...

As I was eating breakfast this morning (at a leisurely pace, as there is no work to run to today, PTL), I was listening to the radio and the widening circle of processed food products that are being recalled by Maple Leaf Foods.
I thought to myself, boy, I've totally dodged that bullet, in looking at my breakfast. I'm going to use it as an illustration as to why eating 'close to the source' gives you a fighting chance that you won't end up with some crazy, weird disease, just from trying to nourish yourself.
I had an egg omelette on a bagel. The bagel was toasted, from frozen, from the dozen that I picked up in Montreal last time I was there. From the small, though famous, bagel store in Montreal; not from some huge conglomerate of unknown bakers and packagers. The eggs were from Harlan, possibly the most famous egg-man in all of Ontario. The garlic, from Alan and Wendy, some of the few Ontario garlic producers left in the province. The peppers were from Ontario, but I bought them from Fiesta Farms, so I don't actually know who grew them. The tomatoes: from my balcony, courtesy of Colette's seeds and my compost. And that was breakfast; pretty much all of it could be traced back to actual names and places. If I should happen to get sick, I'd know who to contact, or whose produce it was. The disturbing stat that in one piece of baloney could be the parts and pieces of up to ONE THOUSAND different animals from God-knows-where is enough to make you want to vomit anyways...

Cultivating richness

I've been out of town for the past week, working, yes, but mainly spending time with farmers and hearing their stories. I am constantly amazed by the dedication and hope behind the people who are busy trying to keep us fed.
Since nothing else particularly has happened to me since my last post (I've pretty much worked every day since then), I figured I'd profile my farmer that makes my oats and my flour. I think I may profile some of my farmers here and there. It has been said that we are so busy having our own accountants, lawyers, dentists and mechanics, that we don't stop to consider that perhaps we should have our own farmers.
This farmer is a young guy, who has surprisingly gone into farming. This is surprising in that many young people are choosing not to do farming, whether for status issues or financial issues, and those who do often can't afford to start, or sustain a farming career. So, with his family's blessing, he has gone to produce some fine heritage wheat, and completely organic grains. In addition, they taste wonderful!
I am really hoping he can sustain a lifelong career with this. He is developing a good reputation for his organic practices, and fine product.

Disabling mosquitos

So, some days at work, it verges on miraculous that I can get through the day without being very skeptical about the general intelligence level of society.
A young lady was brought, nay, carried, by her boyfriend into the clinic. Our staff was quite alarmed: Did she break her leg? Had she passed out?
In fact, she had a mosquito bite on her foot. Yes, one mosquito bite. On the top of her foot.
She then proceeded to demand something for the bite so that it would go away instantly, as it was quite itchy, causing her great grief, and thus must be eliminated.
So I gave her some cream to help relieve some of the itch. On my way out the door, she then asked for a note to excuse her from work for a few days, as she wouldn't be able to stand at work because of her mosquito bite (obviously; since she needed her over-whipped boyfriend to carry her from the car to the bedside because of her one mosquito bite). I looked at her incredulously and asked her, "You mean to tell me, you believe you can't go to work because you have a mosquito bite on your foot?", to which she answered in the affirmative.
Then I kicked her out of the office. Well, more accurately, her boyfriend carried her out of the office and back to the car, as this princess wouldn't walk on her foot.
One stupid mosquito bite. This, my friends, is where our tax money is going to. I am not entirely sure if I am more astonished by her attitude, or his clear whipped-ness.

Why Canada won't win (much) at the Olympics

Of course I have to say something about the Olympics here. I'm noticing that America and China are smashing everybody else in terms of the medal count. Canada has, to this point, no medals. Nada. Even Tajikistan and Uzbekistan are out-medalling Canada.
I think there are good reasons for this. I think when one looks first at the two leaders, it becomes apparently clear that the big obstacle is culture. Not raw talent, not necessarily resources or support for athletes, but culture.
America has always had a culture of 'hitching up your britches', of overcoming great, and seemingly insurmountable obstacles to finally 'make it', the American dream of becoming somebody, if you only have enough gumption and hunger in your belly to do so. If you're weak, too bad; you just won't be allowed to play on the team. When you listen to the American athletes talk, they talk about wanting medals, about hungering for them. So they go out and do just that. I think part of their culture, of living the American dream, helps drive that need to succeed.
China, on the other hand, clearly has a huge part of face playing into their success. I'm sure there's a lot of governmental pressure on these athletes to perform to expectation (which appears to this point to be perfection), but I think a lot of national honour, familial and personal honour play into their performances as well. The strong desire to bring honour to one's country and family is a huge drive for Asians to do well.
Canada, on the other hand, is a different story. We're too self-satisfied, too accustomed to being taken care of (by our strong social system), too little fire in our bellies to do better, having too much of an attitude of "everyone should play and participate" rather than seeking out the talented and actually focussing on them. We're too interested in our own ethnic/religious/etc communities and individual lives, and not too concerned about the greater good for the nation. Listen to our athletes speak, and they talk of how glad they are just to be there and to participate in the Olympics. Nobody ever talks about wanting medals, or of being the 'best'. It seems too arrogant, too, I don't know, American in feeling. Hence, why we don't have the drive to win. The few that do have that hunger (witness the men's 8 rowing team, but then again, they'll probably medal) are rare.
Sigh. The media will likely bellyache after the Games about how few medals we won, how so many of our athletes we expected to win didn't, how we need to fund athletes better, but I think, until we change our attitude, our chronic deficit of medals will just continue...

My kingdom for a root cellar!

I think I need to seriously harken what some friends suggested to me a few weeks ago; I may need a chest freezer. Where the heck would I put it, you ask? That's an awesome question. The second awesomest question would be: what the heck do I need one for?
I've been realizing, as I've been prepping summer produce and foodstuffs for the winter, that my freezer is not actually large enough for all of this food. I've got fish from Lake Huron, berries from Niagara, beef from King City and bacon from Prince Edward County all vying for space in my freezer. Add to this my bagels from Montreal, and other goodies picked up in Quebec, and now I can't fit anything more in there! Let alone my regular standbys of frozen squash and salmon! What am I going to do?

Quebec I

OK, I'm actually back from a short jaunt in the city that is celebrating it's 400th birthday, but it was a lovely time (barring the fact that I despise driving long distances)! It is such a lovely city, one could even argue more so than Montreal (gasp! Sacrilege says the peanut gallery!).
Some things that struck me: considerably fewer people were smoking than I would have expected, considering it was Quebec. Also, I envy people who live in the capital, and they live ridiculously close to farmers and their produce, and they have an awesome farmer's market (not that we ourselves don't, but, you know...) with fish from the Gaspesie! How exciting! Furthermore I visited J.A. Moison's Epicerie, and it was, by far, the most beautiful store I've ever been to; I think it can be attested to that I walked around with my jaw dropped open the whole time I was in the store...
In all, most of my trip revolved around food and their producers. Geez, a real agrotourist....

Tongues and prophets

It is funny that over the past year or so, a few people have surmised that I may be able to prophesy. Which is nice, having that confirmation, as I sense that that has been the case as well.
What is too bad, however, is that I can't do cool things like tell you how you're gonna die, or be able to predict individuals' futures with pinpoint accuracy. Or figure out winning lottery numbers (awfully handy), or determine the date of the end of the world (awfully scary).
However, that aside, it has also been pointed out to me that prophets have never really 'fit in' to the societies that they have been placed; they remain the outsiders and the outcasts, as they say things that disturb the current comfortable reality that society lives in. Which, I think, also has become increasingly poignant to me, as I have noted that some have desired that I 'cease and desist', that I would 'conform to the norm'.
I'm not sure how I feel about being the 'voice in the wilderness'...

Keep away from dangerous objects, including yourself

I have stated before that I am a terrible klutz, but this is ridiculous! As some of you know, I'd spent the past four weeks with a thumb bandage, as I had managed to chop off part of my thumbnail, and was wearing it to protect the underlying tissue until it grew back.
Well! Wouldn't you know it! Not even a week after I stop wearing the bandage, I managed to burn two of my fingers on the same hand! No third-degree burns, to be sure, though it is quite stinging, so it's a little bit worse than first-degree. This stinks!

Amusing ourselves to death (apologies to Postman)

I hadn't realized I hadn't posted for quite a while. Nothing particularly much to note, as I was working out of town. However, when I do go out of town to work, it's the only opportunity I have to actually watch television. (Incidentally, as a complete aside, I heard on the radio today that the larger plasma HDTVs use four times more power than conventional television sets. That's a lot. It makes me wonder, as people are clamouring to get these admittedly impressive machines, how it's going to affect power usage in the next few years).
I must say, I still cannot understand how people have time to watch television, especially for hours at a time. I am also concerned about the quality of what is actually available. I am not sure of the appeal. To me, television, for the most part, appears to be a mind-numbing, intelligence-sucking, vacuous form of being comatose. I know, I've watched my fair share of cartoons and such growing up, but I just find that there's not much to see.
And really, don't get me started on movies, as that is a whole other topic. A social outing where you sit in the dark with your friends, such that you can't talk to them or see them for hours, and then you go home. Fun.

Faith-defying gravity

What is becoming increasingly commonplace for me is listening to old friends who have chosen, for various reasons, to walk away from the faith. Not necessarily to embrace another one, but just walking away from this one.
One of my friends told me the other day that for them, their faith was like a Jenga tower, and as they grew older, supporting blocks in the tower were taken gradually away, until, inevitably, the whole tower fell over. Yet they were incredulous that people like myself, have belief that seems to defy gravity. It suspends there, a Jenga block all by itself, hanging in mid-air, even when all the other structures around it have been knocked off.
I can sympathize; I know there are many paradoxes, many inconsistencies, many hypocrisies, many institutional roadblocks that don't make sense. They make you shake your head, wonder "What?", break your heart, make you angry. I also understand that there are many veils that conceal truth, deliberate and otherwise. I further understand it is hard for us to really see Truth; we understand it dimly, as through an old mirror. I also know that there are many cultural, historical and traditional roadblocks that have greatly mutated and changed the faith over the years; some for the better, many for the worse. I can see all this and understand why this isn't sufficient for some to keep faith, to hold onto hope.
So why do I, and many others, still defy gravity? How is it possible, without a leg to stand on, that I still have hope? I have no idea. I suppose part of it has to do with grace, but even that explanation I find tenuous; does that mean others have experienced less, or deserve less, somehow? That, I can't believe. However, I think there is much I don't understand, much I don't know. I don't know how this all ends up in the wash, as much as I'd like to be Queen of the Universe and bring all benevolence and justice to the earth. I suppose it's also a bit of a "crutch" statement in saying that I'm glad that I'm ultimately not in charge, but that Someone Else is. Is that good enough?
Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. I'm not sure if it can be that concrete; if one is that sure and certain, is it really faith after all? Perhaps I just have a dogged determination that what I've been told is True, and I cling to that hope, and that is all, at the end of the day, I can really do...

One of these things is not like the others

Sometimes, I must say, I feel that I'm torn between several different viewpoints, and have a hard time figuring out where I "fit" in the spectrum... however, this picture reassured me a little bit... credit due to Dave Coverly...

Why birthday parties are a good indication of eternity

So, nothing much of great excitement or import has occurred recently, but last night, I had an invigorating chat with a good friend. One of the topics that I had expressed had been concerning me of late, is how our appetite for real transformation and eternity is so small, that our imagination for the eternal is so limited, that we do not desire it, and we do not long and crave for it.
Small children, in anticipation of their birthdays, are whipped into such a frenzy that EVERYTHING revolves around the birthday party: how many of their friends will come, what lovely presents are going to arrive, how amazing the cake and ice cream is going to be, how much FUN they're going to have. Children can be excited for weeks in anticipation of its arrival (having small attention spans, however, I suppose it's hard for them to be excited more than a few weeks in advance), savouring and anticipating every moment on that day. Some will act "extra good" in order to make sure that the day will be all that they hope it will be. Some will invite every kid that they know on the planet, in order to maximize the gifts and the ice cream available. Some can't sleep in the dizzying excitement of what will happen!
And, folks, this is for a child's birthday party. I often wonder why we cannot muster the same kind of enthusiasm for an even greater celebration. Why our visions and dreams are so limited (to our own nation, our own kind, our own people), that we cannot see larger, cannot see all the 'kids in the neighbourhood' who also are coming to the party. Why we are not so dizzy with anticipation that all we strive for, all we seek for, is that eternal celebration. Why we kind of don't really want everybody to come to the party either.... I can't figure out why we think this way...

Holy crap! Big Brother IS watching...

OK, I don't know what I find more disturbing - that corporate (North) America controls and wields an inordinate amount of power and influence, or the fact that they use it for unknown, or perhaps even nefarious, purposes.
In my last post, I had written about various places and organizations that can help, if you're choosing to buy independent, local and ethical foodstuffs to eat. I had written about how several large corporations have taken over most of the control and supply of a lot of food that we consume. I had also implied that this massive control over our food supply is NOT a great idea.
Do you know what? Some of these corporations have ALREADY visited that blog posting that mentioned their names. Somehow they managed to find my blog posting, without doing a search, and ended straight up on the blog post.
THIS IS DISTURBING. They somehow have the ability to search and find anything, even innocuous little blog posts like mine...

FFT

There is no safety in belonging to the select few, for minority people or anybody else... Our present idea of freedom is only the freedom to do as we please: to sell ourselves for a high salary, a home in the suburbs, and idle weekends. But that is a freedom dependent upon affluence, which is in turn dependent upon the rapid consumption of exhaustible supplies. The other kind of freedom is the freedom to take care of ourselves and of each other. The freedom of affluence opposes and contradicts the freedom of community life.

-Wendell Berry

Where to buy groceries

So, sometimes people ask me where to buy food... I think it's less about "where", but rather the "how", which is the important question.
The rise of the corporate supermarket is mainly due to the North American consumer wanting convenience above quality; it is seen as far easier to buy EVERYTHING, from coffee and tin foil, to toilet paper and clothing, all in one "convenient" place, and doing it as infrequently as possible. However, most other places around the world, including continental Europe, the concept consuming fresh produce for supper, buying only what we need for the day, is what we find so delightful about going to France and visiting small marchés. This idea actually partially ties back to the belief that when we pray, "and give us this day our DAILY bread", that we actually MEAN it. It also ties back to the Exodus, when the Israelites were given just enough food for the day, and no one should then have too much or too little to eat.
And thus, it becomes a question of "how" we buy food, not necessarily "where"...
That being said, to list some of my favorite places to buy foodstuffs:

General all-round supermarket: Fiesta Farms, without question. They are an independent supermarket, and that, by itself, is a good enough reason to go. However, they are hugely supportive of local growers and processors, and have much in their aisles that will make you proud to be an Ontarian. I'd go to Culinarium, but it's way too far from my house to make it worthwhile to go. The Karma Food Co-op is another great option, but, again, it's a bit too inconveniently far from my home to make it worth shopping there regularly.

Farmer's Markets: There are tons all around the city. However, be sure that they are actually FARMER'S markets, not just re-sellers (such as the one in High Park - that is simply a re-seller of produce, hence why they have pineapples and mangoes available). A list can easily be found at "'Toronto Farmer's Market Network"

Asian food: This, I can't help; it's part of my DNA. I'm not saying it's ethical, or it's right, but sometimes I just need a good dose of food from the East. Now, there are items at Fiesta Farms, if I was looking for it, but I am a fan of T&T down on Cherry St.

Milk and Dairy:
Milk: Steen's Dairy. They are one of only two independent dairy processors left in the country, all the other ones being bought up mainly by Agropur (not so pure) and Parmalat, both non-Canadian companies.
Yogurt: Liberte's a good choice, though they are based in Quebec. Saugeen County Yogurt makes a decent yogurt as well.
Cheese: We have an embarrassment of riches with regards to cheese in Ontario. You'd never have to buy no-name or Kraft cheeses (which actually have no milk in them anyways!) again.

Fruit and veg:
See above. I'd encourage you to buy seasonal, as much as possible.
Bananas: it is possible to buy Fair Trade bananas in this city!

Grains:
Flour, oats, barley: Grassroots Organics is where I now get my gluten products, as the farmers there grow, process and grind their own grain.

Meat:
There are, again, an embarrassment of riches with regards to meat. Not only are there many who raise great meat, including Kerr's Farms, Beretta Farms, Cumbrae's Farms, but there are many places to buy their products, including (of course) Fiesta Farms, farmer's markets, The Healthy Butcher, Cumbrae's, Butcher by Nature, Fresh from the Farm, Culinarium, etc etc etc.

Other sundry:
Honey: again, there are tons of honey producers in this province. One local variety is actually produced by Foodshare, by Toronto bees feeding on Toronto flowers. That is an easy hook-up, if you want some.
Sugar: I would opt for buying Fair Trade sugar, as I would for chocolate, cocoa, coffee and tea. I usually buy these products at Ten Thousand Villages, mainly because it's all in one place, and you'd be helping support the MCC in their projects as well!

I think that's about it. That's what I do, at least, avoiding the big chains as much as I possibly can; if I never have to walk into any of their stores and buy the processed crap that they sell, or the produce that they gouged out of farmers, then I am glad to do so.
If you have any other questions, or suggestions, then please do send them to me! I'd be glad to hear about more local, ethical produce!

and I thought I didn't like meetings...

I've been pegged as next year's Chair(wo)man of the Board for FoodShare. This is particularly strange to me, as I didn't think I particularly have leadership capabilities. I'm a great follower, a great ideas person, not a great leader.
To be sure, it's terribly exciting in light of all the movement and momentum behind local food and agriculture. I am supposed to spend this year observing how this year's Chair attends to their duties, and thus be able to pick up the mantle next year.
Well, we shall see how this year goes. Certainly, if this is the domain where I eventually intend to move into, then this would probably be the best way to jump into it...

Africa is not a photo-op

One thing that has been on my mind for the past few weeks is the nature of our humanitarian/missional attempts internationally. I am trying very hard not to be judgmental, but I tend to notice that the vast majority of trips that are made are done with well-intentioned and good-hearted, but fundamentally colonialistic assumptions.
This is despite the fact that I could cop-out and argue anything -I- do, professionally speaking, would be "exempt" from that; this is completely untrue. I completely disagree with the notion of being the "celebrity Canadian doc" that's parachuted in and put on display for a few weeks, without effecting any long-term usefulness or change.
To explain: much international (or, heck, cross-town) travel done for the 'betterment of mankind' tends to be the Westerner/Western NGO deciding unilaterally what would be best for said developing nation/homeless people/drug addicts/other socio-economic/racial group. The Westerner goes, with much love and good intent, does whatever THEY felt like doing, and then returns, with great photo-ops and stories about the "good" that they've done, without taking into consideration long-term effects or effectiveness of said travel, or whether it was actually what "they" wanted in the first place. This is no more than a repeated oppression by the colonizer, deciding what works best for the poor/marginalized/the 'other', without any consideration to what the colonized would do.
One story that has been driving me nuts has been hearing about one project where an individual is taking a bunch of cameras to some HIV orphans in Africa, having them take photographs for two weeks, displaying their photographs for a 'show' at the end of the two weeks, and then taking back all the photographs back to the West, in order to display them further to other Westerners.
To me, this is a travesty! What long-term benefit would it be for the children to NOT have their photos, that they took, with them? What will these children do with cameras for which they have no batteries, film, developing materials or a darkroom? Is it simply a benefit of the Westerner who gets to keep all these photos for show? Why is no one asking the hard (and potentially, very offensive) questions about what the value of projects are?

This post doesn't make any sense

I realize that I don't like conflict. Correction: I don't like people being mad at me. I suspect I would quite like conflict, as long as I won (which then, isn't really conflict, but conquest, so I guess it's quite a different thing), but I certainly don't like the aftermath of having people upset about the whole ordeal. This is a logical thing to happen, I suppose, if one insisted on winning all the time.
This is entirely beside the point. Two people I know are upset at me. I've apologized profusely to one (who, thankfully, forgave me, so hopefully isn't too upset anymore), the other one, I'm not exactly sure what I did wrong.
Both situations don't sit well. They just sit in the pit of your stomach and gnaw away at it. I suppose this is how some people get ulcers. Now, I am by no means a people-pleaser, but being temporarily disliked by people that you like, well, sucks, for lack of a better word.
I suppose I have to make another correction again: I don't mind people being mad at me if it's over something that matters not. If I overthrew the moneychanger's tables, and they were upset about that, I think I could take it. I suppose if I joined the Burmese monks in their struggle, and the army didn't like that idea, that wouldn't bother me either. Furthermore, if I had successfully assassinated Hitler, and the Nazis were mad at me, that would be alright. No biggie.

Self-inflicted injuries

You know, slicing off a substantial portion of my thumb and thumbnail HURTS! Holy cow, I've been surprised at how much it's been paining me (and yes, I haven't seen a doctor yet for my injuries). I'm surprised at how much damage I sustained. I'm finding it even more surprisingly difficult to function missing one opposable thumb - it's a lot more challenging than I had thought.
However, despite all this, it's my vanity that's the most 'sticks itself out like a sore thumb' - I don't really care how long it takes to heal, as long as it heals up normally. Something tells me, however, looking at the extent of the injury, I'm afraid that it might not... :( stupid Japanese knife...

Bubble girl

Sometimes I think I shouldn't be let outdoors. I was explaining to someone how come I rarely played team sports, and the reasoning essentially comes down to this: I am extremely accident-prone and clumsy. Un-co-ordinated to the nth degree. Case in point: in less than 48 hours, I managed to slice off the end of my thumb and thumb nail, gashed open my ankle on a shopping cart, and bruised my elbow on a pew. And folks, this was from fairly mundane to no physical activity on my part.
Of course, people do remember how I managed to injure myself fairly badly in New Zealand on an ecological project, but I digress... mainly, I should be kept in a bubble of some sort, since I obviously can't seem to keep myself upright and whole if I try to do anything too, uh, dangerous, like grocery shopping or listening to a sermon...

FFT

Why do you sit there in your pews looking up at me? There is nothing that anyone can say that will absolve you on Judgement Day from the act of sitting in the pew hoping somebody else will solve the world's problems. You just want to feel better about yourselves. You don't want to change the world because that would mean a change in your standard of living.

- Paula Spurr

The sermon... is therefore designed to make men feel, and feel so deeply that they will resolve. It is designed to make men resolve and resolve so strongly that they will act.

- Charles Reynolds Brown

Maybe I should just do a Cosmo quiz and get it over with...

In the last little while, I've been in conversation with people regarding various quizzes: about your personality, your likes/dislikes, etc. Some folks I know are going overseas, so the team decided to do the Myers-Briggs personality testing to see how their group dynamics might shape up. Some of them are not terribly surprising in the personality types that came up, but people seem to have a hard time believing that I actually sit in the middle of the road for the four dimensions - the 'Jesus complex', I've heard it said (which, I guess, would explain a lot...). I'm not sure what that's supposed to indicate - that I have no personality? That I have a suprahuman personality?
Secondly, I've done one of those 'how big is your ecological footprint' quizzes, and, whether I included my driving to the suburbs for work or not, I still end up requiring two Planet Earth's in order to sustain my lifestyle. TWO! I thought I was doing really well with all my granola-crapola, but I still need TWO Earths! This frightens me on two fronts: one, that I am still very very very far from being able to demonstrate something that would be something like global parity and two, it makes me wonder where people who throw out a lot of garbage, buy a lot of stuff, eat out a ton, and use their clothes dryer and automatic dishwasher end up. Do they end up using EIGHT planets?

FFT

No man ever believes that the Bible means what it says: He is always convinced that it says what he means.
-George Bernard Shaw

Garden eatin'

One of the beautiful things about this province is the yumminess it produces. I have been able to enjoy spring asparagus pretty much every day for the past month. Luckily, I have a supplier that farms close to my work, so have been able to bring bundles of the green goodness regularly. There is something really delightful in having produce fresh, picked that day, pretty much straight onto the plate... it's almost reminiscent of the goodness of 'eating of the fruits of the garden', literally...

Shekinah glory

So mainly, I've been trying to catch up on sleep for the latter part of the week, but one of the things I've been pondering about is interpretation of holy writings. Now, anyone who could possibly believe that the exact meaning and interpretation has remained static for the past 4000 years or so, must be, in my opinion, nutso. Culture, worldview, philosophy, law and history all play roles in the lens through which we understand scripture. Likely, in several generations, they too, will understand things differently, and that's OK.
What bothers me most, however, is how, for some, we keep it removed from ourselves, that we try to bring meaning that is far from our reality (boy, incest is bad! Genociding a nation is bad news!), such that it doesn't touch our own fundamental assumptions of our own reality. What I mean to say is, in our culture, certainly we acknowledge that ALL the sexual sins are wrong, that 'big, bad' things such as killing large sums of people, or cheating out your family are wrong, which are things that we already understand at an intuitive level, but to go deeper, to the things that will actually FORCE us to change our lifestyle and living, those we seem to keep at bay. Things such as greed and avarice, the prostitution of ourselves, not to sex trade workers, but to our careers, to our own futures, to our financial security, and the actions that we partake in that encourage and perpetuate slavery, those we don't talk about, those we don't change. Without question, I participate in the same things; in some senses, I am even MORE guilty, as I KNOW that I know better, and should do better. For some, I do know that (deliberate) ignorance plays a role.
It's almost like we try to keep things at status quo, affecting piety and repentance, but not fundamentally challenging the assumptions that colour how we have lived our lives. We argue that we are trying not to be 'of the world', but we do that through our affectations, rather than of fundamental shifts into how Kingdom living could look like...

You seriously think I'm lazy???

I'm exhausted; correction, I'm friggin' exhausted! The good news is that friends of mine who were hoping I'd come to their labour just got admitted; I've got to take a shower, bring some overnight stuff and head on over to the hospital. The bad news is is that I'm bone-weary! Not only was the whole Sunday night, let's-surprise-Julia-by-having-a-seizure-at-a-party-just-as-she-was-about-to-go-home, issue threw me off all night (even though, thankfully, it turned out OK), then I spent the next 24 hours after that delivering babies all day (and night...). Today, after going to the office for a bit, I had mucho stuff to catch up on, giving me just enough time to eat supper, and get called to the hospital, which, seeing as it's 7pm, means it's going to be another loooong night before this baby comes.... after which, oh joy of joys, I get to spend 12 hours in the office tomorrow, before I can finally, FINALLY, maybe be in bed by 11pm and maybe get six or seven hours of uninterrupted sleep in four days. This results in a total of about 12 or 13 hours of sleep in 96 hours total. That's just super.
I think I'm going to start correcting people when they think I don't work very much or very hard...

Talking to Canadians

One thing that has been causing me great weirdness is the culture shock I've been going through in returning to Canada. It's weird in that I only went to Europe, which is pretty 'normal', or a close-cultural parity, by my standards. I've been more than my usual irritableness and irksomeness about Canadians, and I couldn't figure out what was really bothering me this time about Canada. Until someone helped clarify my vision for me: I realize that one of the major things that drive me absolutely batty about Canadian culture is our arrogant individualistic rights-orientated culture.
The more I hear about what people are protesting and complaining about in this country and the predominant issues that consume Canadian discussions, the more I hear voices that say, "well, it doesn't work for ME, so it's no good - damned if it actually benefits all of society, but I won't have anything to do with it because it doesn't help me or my family". And then (because we are Canadian), we politely spin it so it doesn't appear that much that way.
It is no wonder, therefore, without a corporate/communal identity, and without a responsibilities-orientated culture, we live such lonely, addicted, mentally despairing, highly consumeristic lives. No wonder that we cannot think long-term, or what kinds of legislation might benefit future generations. No wonder we closely hover over our children, because we cannot give them responsibility (and discipline, due to their 'rights') and we do not trust our communities, thus they grow up to be small obese emperors that can talk about their 'rights', but cannot share the load of their responsibilities.
That seemed to click for me; therein lies one of the major failings of our society. As grand and beautiful and kind as Canadians are, I do not see how we can move beyond our culture of being coddled and lying about our bassinettes, crying about our rights, meanwhile being unable to get out and start to crawl towards the future...

Who's the talking head?

I haven't really been thinking about very much lately (mainly because I feel like I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off), but I want to mention something - I am not entirely sure what the motivations were, but I was complimented recently on a very (VERY) brief talk that I did at church the other day. Which was nice; I thought I did a fairly decent job myself.
However, part of the consternation arose when they asked me when I would likely be able to do a "full" talk. Of course, in my context, that would mean, oh, never. At least not a talk that he would be able to attend.
So there we go: good public speaker, good head on the shoulders, demonstrates can handle small snippets of truth, but obviously, only because I have an extra X on board, not qualified to do more. Hm.

Being sparky

I was invited to dinner with an old friend recently. While I was admiring his new digs, he told me that in the intervening years he'd lost his faith. That's probably a bit inaccurate, but it led to an interesting discussion about his story as to how he arrived at that point of hedonistic agnosticism in his life. He also challenged me in many ways, to articulate how I managed to hold onto faith, despite my own incredible odds over the years.
What I also found interesting is that he has still continued to dabble in the church a few times a year, and his own admission that some of the people he has noticed that have stood out to him as respectable, good people, "sparky" people, he's also found at church, when he's actually attended. He acknowledges that there still remains some beauty, and likely some deep truth to that.
Now, I concur with him that "good" people are not exclusively the domain of the Church, nor even that the Church is made up exclusively of "good" people, as they are found everywhere, in every culture and every religion. However, I do hope that I have some of that "sparkiness" as well, that deep Truth can be seen in me as well...

I kicked an SUV today

What astounds me is the ability that people have to be able to stand perfectly comfortably within a clear contradiction. I've been hearing a lot about this belly-aching about the rising cost of gasoline, and how the oil companies are doing it ON PURPOSE, because there is "plenty" of supply and it is simply the oil companies choosing to refine less crude that is causing the artificially rising prices at the pump. People are calling into radio and TV shows lamenting how much harder it is for them to pay for gasoline, how much harder it is to get around, how they've had to think of alternative ways to transport themselves from here to there, how they've had to curtail or change vacation plans because of the price at the pumps.
Um, hello? Isn't this a good thing? Aren't we also the society that cares desperately about climate change? Aren't we also the ones who are wanting to lighten our environmental footsteps on the earth? Aren't we the ones who are trying to practice the "Three Rs"? It is starting to disgust me how people are complaining on public radio that they can't get around and now, heaven forbid, they have to take public transport or bicycle to where they need to go, and how the government has to do "something" to make gasoline more affordable.
Considering we are only now starting to get a glimpse about the "real" cost of food and oil, I suspect our society is not willing to cut back on the frivolous (ie. entertainment and diversions) in order to pay for the necessities, when push really comes to shove...

Germany III

So, I think I've gotten a bit paranoid since I was in East Germany a few days ago. I was staying with a young Ukranian woman, who was living there with her Italian husband, and was giving me a furrowed brow with her stories of her experience of living there. As the Ukraine is still not yet part of the EU, and also has previous connections to the USSR and communist regime, Ukranians in general are looked down upon by East Germans, thus it has been very hard for her to be allowed to have the papers made to find work, to make friends, etc. She also noted that one of the ultra right-wing parties was the one that held the majority of seats in the local parliament, which for her, had echoes of that of the Nazis. that one of her darker-skinned Spanish friends had indeed been beaten several times by white supremacists in their city.
To me, this is all a little disconcerting, as I find it very hard to understand how, in light of a history that went from ultra-right wing (Nazis) to ultra-left wing (GDR) in a short period of time, both demonstrating their shortcomings, that the East should swing all the way back to ultra-right wing.
Anyways, it was a big relief to take the train to Frankfurt, and, getting off the train, seeing people of all colours and creeds and nations again. The balance between the multiculturalism of Western cities such as Frankfurt and Berlin, with the continued homogeneity and general suspiciousness to foreigners in the East is likely an issue that the Germans will have to work with for several generations yet...

Germany II

One of my big "tourist" goals in visiting Germany, more than Reformation sites, more than additional churches and museums, more than eating as much bratwurst as could possibly be eaten, was to visit a concentration camp. I wanted to see what we had always learned about in school, about the horrors of institutionalized hate and murder, that was mandated by government, and tacitly condoned by the Church. The careful calculations of the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, its careful design, security perimeters, lavish grounds for the SS officers, the landmarks of torture and incarceration, the gas chambers and incinerators... it was really too much for me at several points... To know that an entire peoples allowed such horrors to happen, in their time, while they were eating and drinking and living on the "outside" (for many of these camps were found sidled right next to residential areas in town), made me shrink in horror at my own apathy to suffering and evil...
One thing that spoke to me was how Pastor Niemöller, one of the prime leaders of the Confessional Church, the only Christians at the time to speak out against these atrocities, for which they too were sent to the concentration camps, was considered "Hitler's personal prisoner" because of his status... Pastor Niemöller at several points in his incarceration wavered in his faith and his convictions, but emerged with a stronger faith, and a desire to foster unity within the Church, after it had done so poorly in defending the defenceless, and speaking for the voiceless.
His is the poem that spoke most eloquently at the time for the travesty of staying silent in the face of injustice:
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.

Germany I

A few observations about Germans: They are definitely not as fit as the Swiss, and are more similar in shape to the North Americans. I think this may be because a lot of their traditional cuisine involves wursts and potatoes. That is to say, sausages in all their shapes and forms, and potatoes every which way.
Fortunately, a large influx of Turkish immigrants to Germany have providentially provided a way out of this problem by providing donairs and kebabs, which I have been gladly eating, as I realize I quite miss the food from that region of the world. In fact, Berlin has the largest Turkish population outide of Turkey. I think I will likely write a bit more later about the East/West divide and the Berlin Wall, etc the longer I hang about here. I have, sadly, seen skinheads still walking the streets (though thankfully not to beat me to a pulp), and have witnessed the Reeperbahn, which continues to sadden me and reminds me that Europeans also need compassion and mercy extended to them as well.
Anyways, this will be brief, as I am on a German keyboard, so am having to correct myself quite frequently, due to the different keyboards...

Switzerland IV

One interesting statistic from Switzerland is related to their guns. As I had mentioned before, each healthy male in Switzerland is conscripted to the army for 20 years. Furthermore, there is obviously gun and rifle training as well - women are also free to partake in all these activities as well, though it is not compulsory for them.
Because of this yearly return to military base for further training, Swiss males keep their army-issued firearms at home. This makes the Swiss the most highly-armed (in the individual sense) in the world. However, strikingly, their murder rate by handgun violence is low, just a bit higher per capita then Canada, which, of course, has much stricter laws against handguns (though the politicians are considering banning them altogether). And, obviously, a CONSIDERABLY lower rate than handgun violence than America.
This brings up many questions, to my mind. Does this really mean that "guns don't kill people; people kill people"? What does this say about our North American culture, that guns are used for the sport of killing people, that we have very lax values in civic pride, that we have less respect for our environment and culture? Does it mean that we don't value life and stability as much? Are there socio-economic factors that play into the handgun violence in North America? Do we really have anger and rage issues that prevent us from treating each other with civility? It makes me wonder, had Canada gone the way of firearms a la America, would we too have a handgun murder rate comparable to them? Does it not strike you as odd that we are just under the rate of the Swiss, when they have at least one gun in every home, and we have so few?

Switzerland III

One of the strange things one can find in Bern, the capital, is a 'bear pit', since, historically, the town was founded on some sort of bear hunt. The very sad part of it is that it is literally a pit, with a few rocks, and then a few bears that roam around pathetically, hoping tourists will drop snacks into the pit. Apparently, they have been talking a long while about making a 'bear park', where they might be able to have room to roam and actually live a bear-like life, but tradition dictates all, and since there has been a bear pit for hundreds of years, actually improving the lives of bears for the better takes a long time to change...
I also had supper with some Swiss folks last night, and they would like me to clarify: They don't eat cheese all the time; in fact, we had chicken curry for dinner. So there.
Some other observations I've made of the Swiss: They smoke relatively less than the average European. They are also strikingly less obese than North Americans are - I think some of this has to do with the European lifestyle generally contributing to healthier people, but I think also the mandatory conscription of all healthy males into the Swiss army also helps in keeping people fit. Furthermore, I do note what I think is a huge prevalence of polio (?I'm not sure - does anybody know?), as there are many many people here with what appears to be polio deformities and using crutches to walk. That is odd, so I wonder if there was some slip-up in their vaccination programs (sorry, that's obviously just job-related ponderings).
That being said, there is a lot of cheese here - we spent the day in the Gruyere region of the country, eating (duh) Gruyere, which is quite tasty, though I think, with the obscene amount of cheese that I'm eating, I would have to say that I'm a bit of a patriot, and still prefer cheddar. There, I said it - just don't tell the Swiss...

Switzerland II

So, despite some cloud cover and a bit of drizzle, I went hiking through the Swiss Alps yesterday. Let me tell you, with the edelweiss, the goats with bells tinkling, the green hills covered with snow, and the tiny Swiss wooden cottages, you really did feel you were in the middle of the Heidi story... all I really needed was my shepherd friend, and we'd be skipping about the mountains, eating cheese and whey. Sometimes it does strike me as quite odd when stereotypes come to life...
Another thing that I've noticed: There are A LOT of Korean tourists through here. I am not sure why that is. Additionally, there are A LOT of Indian tourists as well. For this, I have an explanation: apparently, a lot of Bollywood movies are now shot in and around the Swiss Alps, as it got too dangerous in the Kashmir lands, so many people from the Indian continent come here to check out site locales from their favorite movies... strange, isn't it? I'm currently in this tiny tourist town in a valley between two mountain ranges, and there are actually curry houses here... weird...

Switzerland I

So there are several things that the Swiss do that I note are strikingly similar to how I understand the world. The first is that of wearing socks with sandals; apparently they find it incredibly dirty to wear sandals without socks. I don't particularly think that, but I do like wearing my Birkenstocks with socks. I was actually going to walk out in my sport sandals this morning, sans socks, until my sister pointed out that truism about the Swiss, so I threw on some socks, and, lo and behold, so was everybody else! Secondly, I do also note the extreme punctuality here of all the transport system (I saw the last-second TTC strike on the Star's webpage - the bastards!) - no train, bus or ferry has actually been late; they show up on time, leave on time, and no delays! It's amazing, and jealousy provoking compared to the dumbass service from the TTC.
Thirdly, I'm also noting the care about food that the Swiss take; did you know they only have Fair Trade bananas available for sale here? You can't buy conventional bananas - good for them! Most of the produce in the stores is organic - organic as standard, not as optional. They also label meat, so that you know the country of origin, as well as whether or not the animal had been treated with antibiotics or not. That's amazing to be able to make some knowledgeable choice when it comes to buying food! Certainly, there's a plethora of cheese (no surprise there) as well.
Those are pretty much my observations thus far; based on those three things alone, I think I would fit in quite well here....

FFT

They [the question of what mankind's responsibility is on the earth] are also, both in origin and effect, religious. I am uneasy with the term, for such religion as has been openly practiced in this part of the world has promoted and fed upon a destructive schism between body and soul, Heaven and earth. It has encouraged people to believe that the world is of no importance, and that their only obligation in it is to submit to certain churchly formulas in order to get to Heaven. And so the people who might have been expected to care most selflessly for the world have had their minds turned elsewhere - to a pursuit of "salvation" that was really only another form of gluttony and self-love, the desire to perpetuate their lives beyond the life of the world. The Heaven-bent have abused the earth thoughtlessly, by inattention, and their negligence has permitted and encouraged others to abuse it deliberately. Once the creator was removed from the creation, divinity became only a remote abstraction, a social weapon in the hands of the religious institutions. This split in public values produced or was accompanied by, as it was bound to be, an equally artificial and ugly division in people's lives, so that a man, while pursuing Heaven with the sublime appetite he thought of as his soul, could turn his heart against his neighbours and his hands against the world.
- Wendell Berry

Folks, we need to PRAY!

I am going to enclose this link (it seems like I'm getting lazy, just providing links rather than actually writing anything of value), particularly as it is a request from my brothers and sisters in Zimbabwe asking for intervention. It worries me that this is the case, as I have friends who work there...
"'Genocide' warning in Zimbabwe"

D'oh!

So a friend of mine points out the other night that I am Lisa Simpson, present on earth in bodily form. Sure, I don't wear a pearl necklace, or have extremely pointy hair, but I think he was getting at the 'vegetarian-Buddhist-ish-social activist-genius' angle. Parallels also abound: extremely shrill and argumentative at times, prone to self-righteousness, love-hate relationships with Bart-type personalities, geeky/smart, independent, well-versed in many different disciplines and topics, tending towards the left politically especially when pushed by the Right to make a choice, and possessing a disturbing tendency to be able to attract only Ralph Wiggum and Milhouse-types...

FFT - really

Well, some thoughts from Michael Pollan, who I totally adore, and he also quotes Wendell Berry, another iconic hero of mine...
"Why Bother?"

The invisible workers

No, this isn't a rant about the plight of labourers the world over... this is actually wondering something else; on my way from work, there's a ramp connecting two highways which last summer was closed down to a single lane for a good chunk of the whole summer in order to repave it or something. They've just started the other side this week, and so have shut down all the lanes, except for one.
My question is, however, where all the workers actually are? I've been driving by at 1, 2, 3pm in the afternoon and have yet to see a single person, let alone a machine, in the whole area they've shut down. I'd understand, perhaps, if I was driving by at 5 or 6pm and no-one was there; I could explain it by saying it was after the work day. However, to not see anyone there in the middle of the afternoon? This doesn't really make sense to me. And certainly, I would imagine they would need some sort of machinery to help them do some of this imaginary work. Can anyone explain this to me, as it boggles my mind that they would block several kilometres of major highway and not actually do any work on it?