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my boychik

My son was entered in a city-wide cocktail making competition, sponsored by Jameson. He had to invent a cocktail using that whiskey. And he did. He didn’t win – this time – but he looked great. As is his wont. And though I am not a whiskey drinker, the cocktail doesn’t look bad either.

So on the eve of the eve of Mother’s Day – which I really don’t care much about, an event invented by Hallmark cards – I am proud to show off one of my two magnificent creations, showing off one of his own magnificent creations.

My other magnificent creation saw her midwife today, and all is well with HER next magnificent creation. What a creative bunch!

Home. Home home home home home home home. I am home. Happy Mother’s Day to you all. I hope you are home too, or wherever else you want most to be.

And speaking of home, special good wishes to Omar Khadr, who is now walking out in the world for the first time since he was imprisoned 13 years ago, at the age of 15. A vile, brutal injustice was done to you by the government of this country. I pray that you continue to put your life back together.

Khadr was the first person since World War II to be prosecuted in a military commission for war crimes committed while still a minor. His conviction and sentence were widely denounced by civil rights groups and various newspaper editorials.[12] He has been frequently referred to as a child soldier.[13][14] He was formally identified as such by the head of the United Nations child soldier program in a letter to the Military Commission in October 2010.[15][16] The last Western citizen held at Guantanamo, Khadr was unique in that Canada had chosen not to seek extradition or repatriation despite the urgings of Amnesty InternationalUNICEF, the Canadian Bar Association, The Federal Court of Canada and other prominent organizations.



2 Responses to “my boychik”

  1. theresa says:

    I do love Jamesons, but neat. Still, the cocktail looks delicious. And let's send all our best wishes in Omar Khadr's direction…

  2. beth says:

    All kinds of fancy things in the cocktail. As I've told Sam, my uncle Edgar, the bridge champion in NYC, used to make a different cocktail every late afternoon, often naming it after friends and family. There was an Elizabetta, for me. Sam named this one for Mr. Jameson's mother – clever, eh?

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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