Should women believe Stephen Harper on reproductive choice: Judith Timson

Judith Timson eloquently outlines the reasons why anyone concerned about a Harper government and the still very open issue of reproductive choice should think hard about where they place their vote. And there is still time to ask politicians bluntly where they stand on reproductive choice, and the funding of Planned Parenthood.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/relationships/news-and-views/judith-timson/why-should-women-believe-what-stephen-harper-says-about-abortion/article2002319/

Harper's cuts to organizations that serve women: Canadian women's favourite pick-up lines

Here's a great take on Harper cuts to organizations that serve Canadian women.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmthTKSWFWw

Election issues: Reproductive choice and Planned Parenthood support

Maybe it's time to make sure that reproductive choice is an election issue in every riding. And maybe it's time to ask very directly and repeatedly for a clear answer on whether Planned Parenthood is, and will continue to be, supported by a Conservative Government.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/behind-harpers-reluctance-to-revisit-abortion-issue/article1996398/

http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/canadavotes2011/story/2011/04/20/cv-election-planned-parenthood.html

Harper hypnotism

While watching the 2011 English language Federal Election debate, I had the sense that Mr. Harper was trying to hypnotize me -- all viewers for that matter. It was his voice, so flat and unmodulated, droning away, saying the same words and phrases over and over, his lips moving, but only just, his wide eyes staring at me, trying to hold my gaze. Those lips, that voice, the unending drone, the straight-ahead eyes had the effect of one of those old-time movie illusionists, the ones who used to chant, "watch the watch", who told us that we were getting sleepy, our eyes were getting heavy, and I expected at any moment to be clucking like a chicken or voting Conservative! I found myself getting up from the sofa and walking around to shake off the queasy feeling of leaving myself, of being sucked into the yawning void of "a majority", afraid I'd wake up and Canada would be led by a full-fledged Harper government, by Canada's Party, as I'm sure I heard Mr. Harper call his party at one point. If it hadn't been for Messrs Layton and Duceppe and their full-volume passion, and Mr. Ignatieff's occasional outburst of indignation, I might have fallen asleep, but then I might have dreamed about the wide-eyed stare and that terrifying, droning voice that made me wonder what he was hiding, made me ask myself, "What's he building in there?" (Thanks Tom Waits!)

Then on Tuesday, we tuned into the French language debate, sometimes listening in French because even with my mostly non-existent French I could pick up the pattern of the debate, partly from having heard most of it the day before, and partly because there was more than a hint of Ed Broadbent's wonderful French pronunciation (mine too, I confess), which leaves very little to the English -- or any other language -- imagination. When we switched to the translated debate, well, suddenly it was like watching tête à claques -- http://www.tetesaclaques.tv/oncle_tom_vid30_serie6 -- and there was Willy Waller trying to sell me a potato peeler! I know that with four men and four translators it was necessary to have very distinct voices, but the effect of the mix of accents, one very Scottish one, was to place me distinctly on the edge of giggling (sometimes giving in to the need) all night long.

My feeling today: I didn't get hypnotized no matter how effective some pundits thought Mr. Harper's performance. I wasn't convinced by Mr. Ignatieff to vote Liberal, though I was listening closely to him, so I'll wait for my local MP, Mr. Eyking, to come visit and tell me why I should. I was impressed by Mr. Layton's nothing-to-lose passion, his won't-back-down stance and his for-the-people policies. Mr. Duceppe clearly had his constituents in mind and though I'm always more than a little perplexed at having Separatists in Parliament, they have been elected and their leader does what he has been elected to do: work for Quebec's interests. I wondered how Elizabeth May would have adjusted to the format, forcing her to have quiet times, but also what she would have brought to the debate with her quick mind and her passion.

So half-way through this campaign I remain undecided, except for the fact that I won't vote for Mr. Harper.

By the way, there are some interesting web pages going up to get young people and women to vote. Here are a few worth checking out, and they will make you smile & maybe even cheer:

http://leadnow.ca/

http://shitharperdid.tumblr.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kn5RzQCx7So&feature=youtu.be

The Dagger Legend returned, part 2

Check out Andy's blog to see our Dagger canoe returned home:

www.andyincapebreton.wordpress.com

Turning (and now turned) 60

I don't much like the "nine" years and I can frankly say that 59 was not my favourite year. But favour aside, the "nine" years are for me retrospectives, assessment periods where I suss out what worked and what didn't, what changed that I had hoped to change, what didn't, an examination of happenings, accomplishments, how the body held up or gave out, what the kids were up to, and on through mostly -- until the moment of thinking -- an unthought out and meandering list of "what was" over the past decade. Of course I don't spend all of my time thinking back. Life is too full for that kind of inwardness; there was too much to actually do, too much enjoyment to be had, etc. But simply put, the "nine" years seem always to make me feel old.

Then along comes a big fat zero, this year 6 and 0, and just like that there is a clean slate, a whole decade to grow older into and it is thrilling and wonderful and no matter how old I get -- and believe me 60 is old -- zero years make me feel young, even with sciatica!

Here is one reason you can be sure 60 is old: I have had any number of friends and friendly liars come to tell me that I don't look 60. (I do look 60, really.) That they are amazed that I am so old (see they actually say it), but of course by being so amazed they reinforce the fact that they think 60 really is old, even if someone doesn't look it. I've been a daughter for 60 years, a sister for almost 59, a wife for most of 37, a mother for nearly 35, a grandmother for just about 4. My attachment to Cape Breton and my commune family of friends here is 40 years old this summer. I'm not ancient old, but I am now old, and happy to be so, for as many have said over the last while, it IS better than the alternative. At least it is for now, and I hope it stays that way for quite some time yet.

I offer here a thank you to all who have wished me well, sent cards and presents, lied, laughed, and stuck by me all this time. I love this ride we're on! Special thanks to Marion & John for hosting the party, and to Andy for helping them.

Above are a few photos of a wonderful Sunday afternoon gathering held in my honor. I wore my cowboy boots and I think you'll see more of them in this decade.

Red Dagger, our mountain top canoe

I don't know how Andy did it, but two summers ago he convinced our son, Daniel, and his friend, Blake, to drag our 16 foot bright red Dagger canoe UP the mountain (some 800 feet or more) through quite grown over bush. Andy's intention was to take the canoe over the other side of our mountain where there is a lovely little lake and then he (we) could hike up and go for a paddle, then hike back down. Not only did Daniel and Blake haul the canoe, but the paddles and life jackets as well. The canoe made it most of the way up before the guys pooped out and had to come back down, done in by the climb (pretty much straight up at times), the rough terrain, bugs etc. Andy has not been able to convince anyone else to go up there to help him take the canoe the rest of the way up to the lake, though his friend, Roddy, did offer to help him bring it down this past summer, but I think golf got the better of them.

So today, while it was still sunny and the snow hard-packed enough to walk on (as opposed to sinking into), we hiked up the mountain to see if we could find the canoe in the snow, and if so, bring it home. I had a notion I could ride it at least part way down. Can you see it in your mind's eye, me, a red canoe, an 800 foot drop, dense bush at times? Are you laughing? But really, I wanted the easiest way to bring the canoe down and the hard snow would have allowed it to slide down nicely without too much work on our part.

We did find the canoe but it was pretty much covered with snow and in the end, after digging with sticks and poles and hands -- we didn't think to bring my collapsible shovel -- we came away wet and happy but without the canoe. Bad weather's coming our way so we'll have to put off the retrieval until footing is once again reasonable. Here are some pics of "the dig".