Sharon's Blurb

  The gnats were flying over the kitchen sink. There was garbage everywhere. And the police officers were visibly shaken and disturbed at the mess. Yes, it was another episode of COPS, and yes, they were attending yet another domestic dispute. A house full of mess.  A house full of chaos. Is there a connection? There is an ancient Chinese belief about the flow of energy.  They call it feng shui.  The premise is that the easier and more symmetrical the flow of energy, the better fortune it allows. Angles and edges are bad energy. Circles and curves are good energy.  Clean and clear is good energy. Clutter and dirt is bad energy. I have visited many homes in my day and I am shocked and surprised at the number of them that are cluttered with chaos.  Socks on the floor.  Dirty dishes in the sink.  Clothes lying around.  Laundry baskets full.   And perhaps it is no coincidence that those homes are full of drama. Yelling.  Fighting.  Disagreements.  Unhappiness.

  You.  Can't.  Take.  It.  With.  You. A phrase I hear often these days. Mostly from a friend who is getting close to his ninth decade here on earth. And he is right. You can't take it with you. Whatever "it" may be - money - possessions - more money. It is unfortunate that we will all end up with the same fate - our earthly remains cremated and stashed in a small container or preserved and sealed in a casket to be buried or entombed. And all of our earthly prized possessions will not be coming with us. Oh no. We won't need them where we are going. Instead, they will be distributed among the living; friends, family, charities, and the like. Their joy of use to be continued - just not with us. Whatever we have taken such pride in amassing will be dispersed. However much we have in our savings accounts will also be dispersed. And it is important, perhaps, that we get to decide, to pick and choose, who will be on the receiving end. Th

          I love garbage day. I mean I really, really love garbage day. Perhaps more than a person should. It would be fair to say I am obsessed with garbage day. I count down the days until it arrives. Looking forward to its ultimate arrival. Every other Thursday. I would say this obsession started when we moved to a municipality where garbage pickup is every other week. What?! Who can go two weeks without their garbage being picked up? It seemed inhumane. To expect us to hang on to our waste for two very long weeks. Granted, recycling and compost is picked up every week. And I guess the thought is that most waste is recyclable or compostable. But it is amazing how that garbage can gets filled up so quickly. By the time garbage day arrives, it is brimming. Two large garbage bags or one can is the rule. And it can't weigh more than 45 pounds. There was a time when our garbage man refused to take our can because it was too heavy. He slapped a

  The parking lots are unusually empty. It's a Saturday afternoon - a time when you would think many people would be out and about doing their weekend errands. But they are not. Even the roads seem unusually quiet.  Un-busy. At the grocery store, a pleasant surprise to find it not too crowded. Again, a Saturday afternoon - a time when you would think many people would be out getting their weekly groceries. But no. Something has changed. There is something tangible in the air. A palpable sense of quietness. Of holding back. Of austerity. People are hunkering down and making do with what they have. They are cocooning themselves, withdrawing into the safety of their cozy homes and condos, waiting out the storm. The storm of inflation. Of high prices. Of empty store shelves. There are whispers that we are on the verge of a recession. Shhhhhhh! Don't even utter that word. For we may then manifest it, and it may become so. I am not even sur

 When I was studying Journalism at Humber College, one of our assignments was to interview a long-time married couple to find out what made them stay together. Our neighbours at the time, were the perfect subjects. They were married shortly after World War II, and had come over to Canada from Germany. They were the best neighbours one could have; always up for a chat over the fence; always offering some homemade German delicacies; always cheerful and happy. When I sat down with them and asked them what made them stay together after so many years, the lady said, "We take each other for granted." I was in shock. Taken aback. I thought the secret to a great relationship was the opposite:  NOT taking each other for granted. And then she explained You have to take it for granted that the other person will always be there.   Always have your back. Always offer company, comfort, solace, friendship, love. Perhaps there is some truth to that. But I still thin

  I was gazing out at the garden, when suddenly something caught my eye. It was a bright little object moving amongst the wood chips. A closer look revealed it was a lady bug. A dead lady bug. Being hauled over hill and dale by a rather large ant. The ant would heave it up and forward over the rock. Then pull it behind for a short distance, before heaving it forward again. It was incredible. The speed at which this ant was carrying his prize gave me pause. I am not sure what a human equivalent would be. A 200 pound man carrying an object considerably larger than himself, rapidly and without concern for the geography, hurried and anxious to present his prize to his queen. Whatever the motivation may be, this ant was on a mission. He traversed what may have been the equivalent of several hundred kilometres in human terms. The terrain was of no consequence. He was bringing home this prize. Did he kill the lady bug or was it already dead? No matter. The