BLOG #50 THE EASTER HUNT IS ON

The Easter Hunt is on! It is spring at last, the grass is acid green, the daffodils nod, and the bunnies are girding their loins for the annual Easter Egg hunt. In reality this means all young mothers are planning on waking up at six A.M. Easter Sunday and hiding sickly gaudy sugar-laden candy eggs in their gardens and all the rooms of their houses-in hopes this will allow them to sleep in longer- parents are always optimistic and delusional. And the dentists, of course, are busy sharpening their instruments and planning future expensive holidays. All this I have done in my own time as a young mother. I can still remember freezing rain-drenched Easter Sunday mornings at 6 A.M. barefoot and nighty-clad frantically hiding these toxic eggs in a sodden garden. I also remember, six months later, finding sticky melted greeny and pinky melted messes in such unlikely places as under the toaster, in the oven, or taped in the toilet tank. I don’t know where my mind was at -those many years ago-to fall into that commercial trap. But that is not my greatest sin-and being Easter it is good to use that word- but I also influenced my daughter too! For there she was, thirty years later, in pajamas in the freezing cold, barefooted, hiding these awful sticky eggs in unlikely places muttering to herself “I can’t believe I am doing this” The sins of the father---etc-etc-and so on it goes. But two days ago I glimpsed a break in these clouds of habitual neuroses- My masseuse was chattering on happily about the pending Easter festivities and the Easter hunt. I had to protest- not another generation under this yoke- this chain had to be broken and so I protested “no , stop. Stop. No more sickly sweet Easter eggs please” and she laughingly corrected me with “Not eggs. We hide and then hunt beer cans- and there is nothing more wonderful than finding the first one and opening it with a snap and guzzling it down. The day just gets happier. And the best of all is finding a forgotten one in the mailbox two months later!” So there is hope for Easter after all. I love the resilience and imagination of the human species. It can always find a way out of the mire and surmount the impossible to reach greater heights and greater enjoyment. Happy Easter dear readers and good hunting.

BLOG #49 "AM I BLUE"

Am I Blue OK I have just opened my files to my essays on a heading with nothing in it, on a subject that obviously I had been inspired to write, in the middle of the night, with full confidence that I would remember my inspiration the next morning. Now I cannot even remember the date, the season, or year that I rushed and wrote these inspiring words, let alone remember what it was I was burning to write. It is at times like these I question my ability as a serious writer and feel that aspiring to be a :blogger' is as high as I can go. All I can think of now when I see these words "am I blue" is the lovely melancholic song popular in the 20's, and that it is in one of my favourite Canadian movies about a small dance band in the prairies during the second world war. I also remember fondly the lovely heroine singing it in a heartrending and amateur way which is always so effective. When I dashed to my computer that long time ago and wrote these words was this meant to be a homage to a movie? Or was I just feeling blue? Or was it because it was that dramatic time- probably three am- when suicidal thoughts overpower victims of depression; or when romantically inclined people-like me-become wistful in their lonely beds; or was I compulsively moved to expose those hidden repressed thoughts that churned through my head at this maligned hour -recounting my misguided actions over these many years of my life ,to say nothing of my missed pleasures? If that is so, thank goodness I did not continue this theme and blocked it out. There is nothing as boring as the whining thoughts of missed pleasures and misguided lives. So if these are all irrelevant subject matters on the theme "am I blue" I would like to drop these conjectures. Instead I will concentrate on the significance of the word 'blue" It is a powerful word- in terms of colour – it is sacred, it is a divine hue- Mary, mother of Jesus, is most often depicted in paintings robed in blue. It is a restful hue- imagine a sky coloured in any other colour than blue! How our hearts leap in joy when we see this blue, it is such a happy colour. Think of the many odes and songs written to beautiful blue eyes, blue skies, blue bluebells- perhaps not blue bells-I made that up-perhaps one of you dear readers with talent could write one. In contrast to all these virtues of "blue" there is the fact that blue is also considered a negative colour- cold, not compassionate, definitely lacking in passion. We are never "Blue with anger." Blue blood depicts all the worst characteristics of the human desire to categorise and isolate into superiority or inferiority. Death is associated with blue- one’s skin becomes bluish.. We become" blue' with cold. Picasso used the colour blue to depict extreme poverty in his “Blue Period” and of course the best of all - the" Era of the Blues" in jazz and the beloved “Blues” period. Oh my, how deep we can go into melancholy while listening to the "blues”. When coupled with the "am I "blue" takes on a whole range of feelings. To say "Am I blue" speaks of chapters of sorrowful feelings. One could write pages on trying to express what these three words cover but I won’t. The truth is, that I started this meandering blog in the beginning of March, following the most depressing of months-February- and as far as I am concerned, this title expresses the appropriate mood of this time- so if you feel blue don’t despair, you are being appropriate which is always a comfort-and perk up- the little rascal with floppy ears is peeking around the corner.