JOURNAL ARCHIVES BIOGRAPHY LINKS PHOTOGRAPHY POETRY
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The days are slipping by, gaining momentum with the gravity of time. The last few days I have been expressing myself freely; too freely for my own comfort. Telling people what you really think is great if you only tell them the part you know they want to hear. It is not so great if you tell them all of it, even the parts you know they will not want to hear. Two incidences in the last two days have inspired me to express myself without constraint. I always regret it. The funny part of it is, the people who are bestowed with my passionate wisdom seldom suffer ill effect. In fact, the world continues to turn as if my words had been caught by the wind, scattered in the distance. I resent, not that my words fail to change the course of history, but that I devoted any time to worrying that they would. The first incidence involving in my free-speech-for-Maggie campaign was to a government representative. I had called to offer unsolicited advice on programs for women and proceeded to reveal my deepest frustrations with Canadian culture. The woman at the other end of the line was a good listener, indeed she was. I am afraid that listening is the most she has to offer. Having voiced my opinions, I must admit that I felt a lot worse about my frustrations than I did before revealing them. Once voiced, one must face the fact that one's opinions are of little or perhaps no consequence. Kept to oneself, an opinion is at least safe from neglect or even abuse. The second incidence involved a man with whom I often discuss political viewpoints. Usually the discussion remains detached and gentle, not today. Our conversation today brought old and bitter memories to the forefront. I was not detached nor was I gentle. There are times when the reality of politics is just too close to painful events past and present. It is not wise to discuss politics during these times. Politics would be very amusing if they did not affect people's lives. I am very glad that today has finally come to an end. The genealogy software I use (Reunion, from Leister) recently offered an upgrade. I purchased the upgrade directly from the company. I have been waiting patiently for its arrival for about four weeks; today it arrived in the mail, intact. A thunderstorm erupted just after I installed the software, necessitating shutdown, and patience. I have been playing with the new features on and off all day, between interruptions. I have been attempting to print fan charts, which are an extremely succinct graphic portrayal of links between generations. My printing attempts have not yielded good results, but that is part of my usual pattern. After having run into difficulty, I will now read the instructions. Well, I will read them in the morning actually. As I sit at my computer I can hear the Police Helicopter circling the skies near my house. It is11:30 p.m. and most of the criminals are still drinking in the bars. The police routinely monitor the empty streets to ensure that crimes are not being committed. Sometimes, when the very bright search lights are aimed towards our neighborhood I wave out the window at them from my seat in front of the computer. I suspect that even if they could see me they would think me daft. It is a great new toy for the local police, I would be out cruising the streets if I had one like it. Pleasant dreams. |
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