This Christmas I received two absolutely wonderful books, about two of the most interesting people -- Margaret Trudeau and Keith Richards. It's interesting how their lives intersected. Margaret Trudeau was married to the Prime Minister of Canada, and she threw it all away and ran off to be with ... the Rolling Stones. Like Princess Diana, Margaret Trudeau became obsessed with her own celebrity, and was often seen dancing -- scantily clad -- at Studio 54 in New York City. She also admits to having had an affair with U.S. Senator Ted Kennedy, among others. She was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and this book is about that journey. She has an interesting story to tell, and I can hardly wait to read it.
Today is my birthday. It has always felt perfectly normal having a birthday sandwiched in between Christmas and New Year's, almost as if I were an important part of the whole celebration. Christmas ... my birthday ... New Year's. It's as it should be ... right? This year my birthday actually falls on a statutory holiday, so I don't have to go to work. Usually by the time my birthday rolls around, everyone is so pooped -- including me -- that it is never really a big celebration, per se. I feel a bit like the Mad Hatter, et al...
For the past few days I have been too busy to do much blogging, or to visit my favourite bloggers. And what spare time I have has been spent catching up on my sleep. Ahhhh.... So, I take this opportunity to wish you all a very Merry Christmas, even if you don't celebrate Christmas -- Merry Christmas, anyway. Christmas is a spirit as well as a time of year. Political forces in the past few years have done their best to expunge Christmas, and they have tried to turn Bedford Falls into Pottersville. But, try as they might, they just cannot do it.
This year I have decided to concentrate on having fun. Christmas should be the time of year when we put away our cares from the previous months, and just enjoy the celebration. It doesn't have to be perfect. Perfection is highly over-rated, in any case. Fun is always spontaneous -- the unexpected moment -- but, we have to keep our hearts and minds open for it. We can't do that if we are too busy striving for perfection. We all suffer from a common malady -- the human condition. And thank goodness for that.
We are all familiar with those little peppermint Christmas candies called Humbugs. They're delicious and pepperminty, but once they're placed in a candy dish and exposed to the air, they eventually weld themselves together until they are one solid mass. Pick up one humbug, and the whole bowl of candies comes with it. But, what would Christmas be without them?
During the rest of the year, Humbugs are a butterscotch/peppermint candy, brown and white striped. In Canada they are often flavoured with maple syrup. And yes, they still retain their ability to meld together into one big lump of candy, once they bag is opened. They're known for collecting lint in the recesses of pockets and hand bags. But, brush off the lint, and they're as good as new.
At work today we tried to find the origin of the name of this candy, without any success. We Googled it, we Wikipedia'd it, we did everything, without any luck. So, your mission -- should you choose to accept it -- is to discover the origin of the name "Humbug" as it relates to the little striped candy. And no, it has nothing to do with a certain Mr. Scrooge and his opinion of Christmas. A bag of Humbugs, complete with Canadian maple syrup, will be awarded to the person who finds the history of the name of this candy.
I have just taken down my last post. I'm afraid I was feeling a bit uncharacteristically discombobulated (say that ten times fast...) by recent events. I have decided to just be cheerful instead.
I was so happy when I picked up my latest New Yorker magazine, and saw that the cover was by my favourite cartoonist, George Booth. I recognized his style immediately, especially the Booth 
In exactly eight days from today, on December 21st at 3:38 p.m. (here in Vancouver) the sun will be at its farthest point from the northern hemisphere -- the winter solstice. That is when the North Pole is tilted 23.5 degrees away from the sun, and all places on earth above a latitude of 66.5 degrees north will be in darkness. The solstice lasts for only a moment in time, and then the sun starts making its way back to the northern hemisphere. Every culture, from prehistoric times to present day, has had a celebration of the winter solstice. I think celebrations that include colourful lights, and lots of food and merriment are also used to ward off the winter doldrums. A friend of mine gets seasonal affective disorder (SAD) in the winter. The cure? She flies off to the southern hemisphere for a few months.
But, I will be celebrating the return of the sun this solstice. At 3:39 p.m. Pacific Standard Time, that will be me doing the dance of joy at the sun's return. Old Sol cannot come back fast enough for me. I may even start a new celebration -- the celebration of flip/flops and sandals. There is nothing more wonderful than throwing away the socks and going as barefoot as nearly possible in the summer sunshine.
As if we don't have enough to worry about on our own planet, it appears that we are about to be visited by strangers from somewhere else. The latest 
There was a time when all men wore hats, they knew how to wear them and they knew when to wear them. They also knew when to remove them. There was a certain hat etiquette that everyone followed. Generally, a man did not wear a hat indoors, and there were no exceptions, except in lobbies or hallways of office buildings. A man could keep his hat on in the elevator, except if a lady were present. A man never -- ever -- wore a hat in a movie, restaurant or concert theatre. Ever. Under any circumstances. Besides, hats were the reason that restaurants, theatres and concert halls had hat checks. Men were supposed to check their hats at the door. "May I take your hat, please?"
Sinatra knew how to wear hats. He knew he wasn't particularly attractive in the conventional sense. He was sort of scrawny and he was not what anyone would call a matinée idol. But he had a certain je ne sais quoi because of his style. The cigarette, the jaunty hat, the loosened tie -- it all added to his sex appeal. Add to that a ballad about loss and longing "in the wee small hours of the morning", and he became irresistible. Sinatra knew when to wear his hat, and he knew when to remove it. That's style, baby. That's sex appeal.
Will someone please explain baseball hats to me? Aside from automatically lowering a man's IQ points and making him look less attractive, a baseball hat also makes him look as if he hasn't had a shower for a few days. And when was the last time the hat was washed? *Shudder* Yesterday I went to two beautiful Christmas concerts, one for Marigold and one for Phinnaeus. In both instances, the audience was filled with men wearing baseball hats. Indoors. At a concert. The fellow in front of me was at least six feet two inches tall, with a baseball cap perched atop his head. His whole head filled the frame of the stage, and the baseball cap just ... well ... capped it off. All hope was lost of my ever being able to see Marigold's performance. When the young lady who was emceeing the concert said, "Please turn off your cell phones, your camera flash functions, etc...", I added -- rather audibly, through clenched teeth -- "And please remove your baseball caps...". I think my daughter was slightly embarrassed by my brashness, but in any case, the man in front of me slowly and deliberately reached up, took off his hat and placed it on the chair next to him. Phew. Now I could see Marigold.
Finally, now, just what every little girl wants -- a Barbie doll that comes complete with its own FBI warning. This Barbie doll is a real working video camera, that can take 30 minutes of video and audio, and post it to the Internet. What happens on the Internet stays on the Internet... Agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigations warn that "Video Girl Barbie" could be used to make child pornography. FBI has had cases of child abuse involving Barbie dolls as well as cases involving hidden cameras, which makes them worried about the combination in this particular toy. And yet, this doll is the hottest selling items this season. I wonder who is buying them?
Perhaps I am beginning to sound like a bit of a prude, but I would not be comfortable with giving this "toy" to a child. Any child who is still young enough to be playing with Barbie dolls is not old enough to be videotaped and posted to the Internet. I should think, in the 21st Century, that most parents would be savvy about the dangers of this sort of thing, but maybe I'm wrong. If the importance of child safety is Mattel's number one priority, they need to rethink "Video Girl Barbie". According to the merchandising, "Even though this Barbie is for ages 6+, parents will have to help their little ones at first to get started. Once the video is edited, you can save it to your computer and then upload to share with friends via YouTube or any social networking site. There will be other opportunities to share your videos with the Barbie community as well in the future." Does anyone else find this just ever so slightly creepy? The doll even looks creepy. I think the whole idea of videotaping little girls playing with their Barbies and then uploading the videos to the Internet, is unsettling. And creepy...
When I was a little girl, I grew up in a small town on Vancouver Island. The town, population about 40,000, is situated at the junction of an ocean fjord and a river, and it is a beautiful area. My life was rather Rockwellian I suppose, and even then our culture was very diverse. My friends were the children of people who had come to Canada from all over the world after the Second World War. My best friend's family was from Denmark, and I had friends from France, China, Italy, Japan, Russia, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, Holland, Yugoslavia, India, Norway, Sweden, Finland, the British Isles, and even that most foreign of distant lands, Quebec. Canada is a land of immigrants, and in some way, all of us are a minority. My mother was from South Africa and my father's family was from Scotland. I remember my friend Sonja, whose parents were from Finland, always had the most wonderful cookies and cakes in her lunch at school. I loved going to her house and watching her mother bake, and inhaling the delicious aroma. My friend Loretta was from Yugoslavia, and her mother cooked fabulous pasta sauces that simmered on the stove all day, again with a lucious, mouth-watering aroma.
When Phinnaeus and Marigold came to visit me last weekend, I gave them each a piece of paper and a pen, and I asked them to write out their Christmas wish lists. I picked up the lists today, and as I looked at them, I realized what nice kids Phinnaeus and Marigold are. Their lists were so sweet, not at all extravagant. And their lists perfectly matched their personalities. One of them had written at the bottom of the list "anything that you think I might like". Omigoodness...
Each of their lists were only five items long, and in those five items, Phinnaeus and Marigold's own distinct personalities were revealed. It makes me chuckle when I look at them. Those lists say everything about who they are. They're worth framing. There has been a bit of a shift in the magnetic poles this Christmas, but I always believe these things are for the good. Invariably, they are for the good... My Christmas wish list for Phinnaeus and Marigold -- and for everyone -- is to just have fun. Christmas is a time to enjoy all the wonders of Christmas, and to just have fun.
Barbara Walters has announced eight of the ten people on her list of 2010's most fascinating people.
Justin Bieber? Justin Bieber? Is he/she a boy or a girl? I can't tell. He reminds me of Sally Fields as Gidget, except he's prettier. Oh, I know, I know, all the tweens and teens love him, and he is very talented, but really is he one of the most fascinating people of 2010? What on earth is going to happen to him when he hits his 20s and 30s? Will he turn into Leif Garrett? I hope not. And Snookie? Snookie is fascinating? Pretty slim pickings.
The Charnel House
I remember the Cold War, and the fear and anxiety that it produced in everyone in my generation. Part of our school curriculum was practicing survival techniques. The anxiety stayed with us 24/7 and it was an underlying anxiety that took years -- decades -- to go away. The ensuing anxiety spilled over into my personal life. I lived in fear of one government or another starting a war that would end the world. It was horrible. And now it seems to be starting again in this generation -- fear and paranoia of the unknown. And it is making me bloody angry. The only thing to be really afraid of is ignorance. The children of this generation have the right to live in the enlightenment of knowledge, not the shadow of ignorance. The truth is in education. The truth is in learning the scientific facts. The real predators of the Internet are the people who perpetuate the ignorance the children read and believe to be the truth. People love a good ghost story, but that is all these conspiracy theories are -- ghost stories.
The Sea, Koktebel
The Moon Woman
Princess Patricia
When William becomes king, as monarch, he will inherit Windsor Castle which is 484,000 square feet and has 1000 rooms, Buckingham Palace which is 828,818 square feet and has 600 rooms, as well as Sandringham Castle, Balmoral Castle, Hollyrood House, Kensington Palace, St. James Palace, Clarence House, amongst other private homes. He will also inherit a huge responsibility, and he has no choice but to accept it. When he gets married, his wedding will generate $1 billion dollars (that is billion with a "b") revenue towards the British economy. His coronation will generate even more. And revenue generated by tax on royal properties and by Crown estates this year was $261 million dollars, so they are worth far more to the country than they cost it. The country receives around $4 million in tax per year from Prince Charles' Duchy of Cornwall. Prince Charles was considered "dotty" 20 years ago when he converted the Duchy of Cornwall to an organic farm. Who knew he had been an environmentalist for decades and was ahead of his time?
Morning News