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It’s spring. With worries.

It does feel like the real thing, at last — spring. The city gardens are gorgeous with tulips, hyacinth, daffs, trees in bloom — redbud, my favourite. 

But the city is a mess. Construction everywhere, cars jammed even more than usual, and our city fathers in their wisdom are cutting back on TTC routes, to make things even worse. The homeless encampment in Allen Gardens has grown; it’s a village now, with pets, suitcases, and camping chairs outside the many tents. Yesterday, walking on Parliament Street, I was accosted for change five times in a few blocks, and this is a relatively tranquil neighbourhood; my kids in Parkdale live with far worse. 

And the level of discourse — I leap up to turn off the news on the radio when PP begins to speak; just hearing his nasty relentless voice causes me to break out in hives. Scream about every little thing, rile up the base, provoke people into fury, and then pretend surprise when raging men wreak havoc. I’m sorry Trudeau has announced he will run again, although it was predictable; he likes a good fight. But the hatred for him personally, however misplaced and misguided, is so polarizing and intense. 

The thought of PP as Prime Minister makes me want to vomit. Imagine a man that small and limited and aggressive on the world stage, a man without a platform, just hatred and accusations. 

So on this beautiful fresh day, worries about my city, my country, the world. But at least I am better; the bug has moved on. Luckily, because I need my energy today; this afternoon Sam and Bandit are getting the boys after school and coming here for a sleepover. It was Anna’s birthday on Wednesday, and her gift is a night off. Tiggy is having a sleepover of her own in my tenant Robin’s room, because she and Bandit, as you can imagine, are not friends. 

Sam took this recently – his happy dog. 

How lucky I am. On Saturday I’m going to a 90th birthday party, and yesterday I spent time with my friend and tech assistant Patrick, who’s 20. Tonight with a 7-year-old, a 10-year-old, and a 38-year-old. It is a good thing to know people at all stages of life, to find out how they see the world. 

How old are you, and how do you see the world? 

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2 Responses to “It’s spring. With worries.”

  1. Anonymous says:

    I’m 61 and I too have political reservations! Out of all the brilliant people in Canada why is our political pool so shallow! It baffles me! I like Trudeau’s side kick Freeland – I’d vote for her. The homelessness is persistent – we need to find affordable housing and safe spaces! Surely there is something we can do…I wish for peace, and more climate change action – especially recycling and sustainably – and a nice clean ocean – wouldn’t that be nice…sigh.

    • beth says:

      The only thing to say about our political pool being shallow, Anonymous, is to look at a few other countries … that shallowness seems to be pretty universal at the moment. Even great politicians, like New Zealand's Ardern, need to get out before long. Politics is an even more brutal game these days; perhaps the smart good people just don't want in. We've seen that in Toronto's mayoral race, where Cressy and Layton, two terrific men on the left, decided not to run.

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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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Chris Walks
This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

Carrie Snyder
Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.

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