tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22886954583289612362024-03-05T23:18:27.999-05:00Owl's Quill: blog of Barbara EtlinWriter,
Poet,
Owl at HeartBarbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.comBlogger206125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-13041722094116531422023-12-31T01:45:00.001-05:002023-12-31T10:41:44.329-05:00Timeless<p> A couple of weeks ago I <strike>slept with my watch on </strike> accidentally broke my watch's metal band.</p><p>This should not have been a problem because I <strike>always slept with my watch on</strike> own three other beautiful watches:</p><p>1. My grandfather's pocket watch, a true art deco antique, which I wore on a gold chain for my wedding as my "something old." All I have to do is wind it and the thing keeps on ticking. Just like in the Timex commercials! However, you have to wind it at least 50 times. Who has the time for that?</p><p>2. My father's watch. It works fine when you wind it, but the clasp doesn't work and I was afraid I'd lose it.</p><p>3. Another watch which I thought worked but never wear. I found out why I don't wear it. It must have died in the drawer a while ago, neglected and lonely. I put it in the donation box in the recycling room.</p><p>So I took my watch to the jewellery store in the mall to send to the manufacturer to fix. This was right before Christmas. I had to wait 10 days to get it back.</p><p>Ten days of not being able to time how long something cooked. (Needless to say, I forgot to update the oven clock every time the power went off so it was hopelessly wrong.)</p><p>Ten days of not knowing how late I was for anything.</p><p><br /></p><p>At first it was frustrating and I had to find various ways to work around it.</p><p>I put my (working) father's watch on the bathroom counter.</p><p>I turned on the tv even if I wasn't interested in the program, just to check the time in the upper right corner.</p><p>I asked M what time it was. Constantly.</p><p><br /></p><p>However, there were advantages to being Timeless.</p><p>As long as I didn't have any appointments that day, I could just relax and go at a more leisurely pace.</p><p>Sure, I was still busy all day. (I'm the equivalent of a personal support worker to my husband.) There was laundry, dishes, and meals and medications to prepare.</p><p>But I forgave myself if I didn't do all the chores.</p><p>I kicked out the voice of the <span style="color: #ff00fe;">Mean Home Ec Teacher</span> who lived in my head, criticizing me. She was (and probably still is) a perfectionist. Well, I didn't need to be.</p><p>I decided that there would be a new way to do things. I asked myself:</p><p>- Must I do this? (If not, forget it!)</p><p>- If so, must I do this NOW? (If not, I'll postpone and do something else. Something fun.)</p><p>- If I need to do this NOW, how can I break it into manageable little pieces?</p><p><br /></p><p>It was a revelation. I'm much more relaxed now that <span style="color: #ff00fe;">MHET</span> has been evicted. I even somehow found the time to write and submit a few short non-fiction pieces. </p><p>I have my watch back now.</p><p>But I hope the new me I discovered when I was Timeless will remain.</p><p>Time is on my side.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oSRvcdlgSI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oSRvcdlgSI</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-33781176439300441912023-12-25T15:57:00.003-05:002023-12-31T00:38:36.610-05:00Season's Greetings to<p> everyone! Merry Christmas or whatever you celebrate, and Happy New Year!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hdJJT9l1cJwim-MQv2ehAcZlKQbRZ4fTun377hhDuz1kwdguscHS8IDpe6ZBLYVzwY6NcHQUDx1ez04S5b8hlK3a2bKcuju5_n6xwX-NtOQFL0dQKxQuWYZuvrYSfl5uU21wYS4FQ-wnXy7rKTWovgjdtOu5i2O0e4DmEhC93Gpj2dRNtR8MpLYJBtH_/s320/snow%20dog%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hdJJT9l1cJwim-MQv2ehAcZlKQbRZ4fTun377hhDuz1kwdguscHS8IDpe6ZBLYVzwY6NcHQUDx1ez04S5b8hlK3a2bKcuju5_n6xwX-NtOQFL0dQKxQuWYZuvrYSfl5uU21wYS4FQ-wnXy7rKTWovgjdtOu5i2O0e4DmEhC93Gpj2dRNtR8MpLYJBtH_/s1600/snow%20dog%203.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>All my blog readers. All five of you.</p><p><br /></p><p>People who are just browsing and found my site by mistake. Welcome!</p><p><br /></p><p>Friends and family checking out my blog.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Everyone, that is,</p><p><span style="color: red;">EXCEPT</span></p><p><span style="color: red;">our doctor</span> who chose to take the holiday week off, along with all the secretaries and nurses,</p><p><span style="color: red;">leaving M without two important prescriptions!</span></p><p><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></p><p>👎</p><p><i>Bah, humbug!</i></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-43100050902973478602023-09-29T12:03:00.001-04:002023-12-02T21:20:41.222-05:00My New Year's Surprise<p>Something remarkable happened to me the first night of Rosh Hashana.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSt6VvVNZRuHiHCLyUXQhuuezvJvpTRFDq0sLiIlQXA3kwgi2A6Ckr7DU0PfiOw6czAgUDzHO5b4Xv25-ZYKVVJpa171Xl2hXoXH1Q7CL4vMiwXhwvPbqusUnQPLxVnvCEX5zB8y2SPiLqETF7HdE3KW0uCXMO0rzpwFbryOE0jDg_SzTe82Ye-iJxFcU/s336/o%20buds%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="248" data-original-width="336" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSt6VvVNZRuHiHCLyUXQhuuezvJvpTRFDq0sLiIlQXA3kwgi2A6Ckr7DU0PfiOw6czAgUDzHO5b4Xv25-ZYKVVJpa171Xl2hXoXH1Q7CL4vMiwXhwvPbqusUnQPLxVnvCEX5zB8y2SPiLqETF7HdE3KW0uCXMO0rzpwFbryOE0jDg_SzTe82Ye-iJxFcU/s320/o%20buds%203.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I arrived home from visiting M in rehab about 6:30 and discovered that both of the two elevators of our condo were out of service. Because I use a walker and can't schlep it up six flights of stairs, I was stuck in the lobby. I kept asking the concierge when the repair person was coming and was told, "Soon." </p><p>By 8:30 I was getting hungry. The concierge, who had stayed past her official quitting time, told me that someone was having a party in the party room. She asked them whether I could have something to eat because I was stuck downstairs and was hungry. They said okay and I crashed the party.</p><p>The party was a family of four, eating a catered meal. When they said, "Actually we're having our first night of Rosh Hashana meal," I smiled. </p><p>"That's what I should be doing, too. My husband is finishing some physiotherapy in rehab* and I was visiting him."</p><p>They had plenty of food, a mind-boggling variety. Vegetarian or meat. Gluten or gluten-free. With nuts or without nuts. All kosher--I'm not--and all absolutely delicious.</p><p>My neighbours, whom I was meeting for the first time, were charming as well as gracious. I left after half an hour, refused their offer of taking some leftovers, and thanked them.</p><p>I only wish that M could have been there, too, to share my special Rosh Hashana surprise.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>* <i>a long, evolving story, which I won't go into here</i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-87533480726232628922023-06-29T13:49:00.003-04:002023-06-30T17:50:01.479-04:00The Last Word (a 50-word biography)<p> <b><span style="font-size: large;">The Last Word</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>Pregnant Paris doctor flees Nazis.</p><p><br /></p><p>Landlady: <i>Someday you speaking English. Then you being a lady.</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p>Crossword puzzles become her English lessons.</p><p><br /></p><p>Toronto medical school head: <i>Stay home. Be a mother.</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p>Accepted two years later.</p><p>"You actually passed. And your English is so good!"</p><p>"It should be. I memorized your textbook."</p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-84245367717154897882023-06-13T14:19:00.005-04:002023-06-13T14:19:33.241-04:00Writing Mentors<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kTYYBossK-JmyRRe9Vl-vuWIbS2c6HYoyT1_M5OS99MTYF_b9P6vWECpyZJ3qk2YhCTrHZvZ_DHzKH56-vvIPzxJK9QUrixkBIuTBIUh3vFKeXJZ0HF9MKsBM_-MIS3osXEXNPE8FqPijmOuapKGzSwxGI6fnLT_KNr1vdpOxQcbtjqgdXkuSZJDzQ/s1600/er2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kTYYBossK-JmyRRe9Vl-vuWIbS2c6HYoyT1_M5OS99MTYF_b9P6vWECpyZJ3qk2YhCTrHZvZ_DHzKH56-vvIPzxJK9QUrixkBIuTBIUh3vFKeXJZ0HF9MKsBM_-MIS3osXEXNPE8FqPijmOuapKGzSwxGI6fnLT_KNr1vdpOxQcbtjqgdXkuSZJDzQ/s320/er2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p><p>Until recently, I always thought that a writing mentor was a result of lucky happenstance. Someone who gave useful advice or who helped you connect with the right person or market, sprinkling fairy dust on one's writing journey.</p><p>It didn't occur to me that you could seek out a mentor, as some people now do in Twitter pitch sessions. You just had to be lucky and hope someone would sprinkle fairy dust in your direction.</p><p>I've had four such incredible people in my life.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">1. Rita Fromkess</span> </p><p>was the wife of a movie producer and an assistant producer. I met her in August 1970 in London's Dorchester Hotel when everyone was stuck in the lobby during a sudden downpour. We started talking and I told her that I was in university and wanted to be a drama critic. She gave me some tips on what to see in London and in Florence. She said that her husband was producing the movie, "The Last of Sheila." She said she wanted me to see it and write her to tell her what I thought of it. She gave me self-confidence in my ability to write. </p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">2. Barbara West</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"></span>was an editor at Chatelaine magazine. My future mother-in-law was her doctor and insisted that I give her a call to get writing tips. Ms. West was kind enough to talk to me about Chatelaine and what kind of articles it used. I sent her a few queries but never hit the Chatelaine sweet spot. However, after rejecting my query about James Houston, she told me exactly which market would accept it: <i>enRoute</i>. She was right.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">3. James Houston</span></p><p>was the author/artist/screenwriter/glass designer/discoverer of Inuit sculpture and printmaking who was the subject of my cover story for <i>enRoute</i>. He took a chance on a novice journalist and let me interview him on speculation. (I didn't have a market yet when he was in town for his Glass Art Gallery show opening.) I will always be grateful to him. And to <span style="color: #674ea7;">Janak Khendry</span>, the owner of the gallery who arranged the interview.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">4. The woman at Italian Night</span></p><p>M and I went to an Italian Night sponsored by the church of our friends in the fall of 2008. (We just liked Italy and our friends suggested that we might have fun.) Although we were the only Jewish people there, everyone made us feel welcome. The Italian food was delicious, of course, and we enjoyed the entertainment. Sitting at our table was a couple whose son was an author of children's books. The woman told me the name of the publisher and I recognized it. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't bring my business cards with me for this purely social occasion. </p><p>After we left early to feed and walk Echo, I researched her son. He had written some high quality non-fiction children's books. And he had an agent. A Canadian agent. It hadn't occurred to me that there were any Canadian agents who might handle children's authors. Soon after, I sent a query to a Canadian agent and was successful.</p><p><br /></p><p>From my mentors, I learned that market and publishing information is always changing and it's important to keep up-to date. Talking to complete strangers, while scary, can be rewarding. Inspiration can come from the most unexpected sources. Act self-confident before you actually are.</p><p>Also, never go <i>anywhere</i> without your business cards (or your book's bookmarks)!</p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-5949415637879307212023-05-30T14:18:00.006-04:002023-05-30T14:18:54.728-04:00Still Crazy...<p> (about each other)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL42AJb5xEAyVudc6dpPID-ajubVx2tjtGd78QITlYL4EyZ-q0DqtkEnKFscAxT25_Xc_W-h_1JthdczR638pK2lPLwHB5yjlhtSlspv42HW43sC2BQqHuckHQH8ZysAKhQTAN9NgxfkfrE85EiIGphrElZ4EOS5aiJsTjELoceU3Capwh678sVMukKQ/s4032/weding%20photo.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL42AJb5xEAyVudc6dpPID-ajubVx2tjtGd78QITlYL4EyZ-q0DqtkEnKFscAxT25_Xc_W-h_1JthdczR638pK2lPLwHB5yjlhtSlspv42HW43sC2BQqHuckHQH8ZysAKhQTAN9NgxfkfrE85EiIGphrElZ4EOS5aiJsTjELoceU3Capwh678sVMukKQ/s320/weding%20photo.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>...After All These (30) Years!</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wZ_b_uUAdQ" target="_blank">You Are The Sunshine Of My Life</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-30300075222686841672023-05-12T13:34:00.004-04:002023-05-12T13:34:32.554-04:00Therapy for Tulipexia*<p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: x-large;">*Starved for tulips</span></p><p>because, like me, you lack a tulip garden?</p><p><br /></p><p>Here are a few cures I'm using currently.</p><p><br /></p><p>1. Look at photos of tulips of the past, saved on my phone or the computer.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RvGhFi0UwRK_uwflJFq9bP_dcTwn-CUTHMdXVBeNy6WFkCtNdx3WCnEQELRW0ANRyLwXrgwkVO5v_1d40-owW61kg2tW_iBnR0HnOIzIpA1FAt4rhKXXhVfbj30Y0aSb8h2rgq0SB8oCPcN99ctDdSjLT8k4vgiAIlq5LRUUuQ3G-CKJaLsWwfQvWg/s528/bloom%20red%20tul%20ap25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="528" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RvGhFi0UwRK_uwflJFq9bP_dcTwn-CUTHMdXVBeNy6WFkCtNdx3WCnEQELRW0ANRyLwXrgwkVO5v_1d40-owW61kg2tW_iBnR0HnOIzIpA1FAt4rhKXXhVfbj30Y0aSb8h2rgq0SB8oCPcN99ctDdSjLT8k4vgiAIlq5LRUUuQ3G-CKJaLsWwfQvWg/s320/bloom%20red%20tul%20ap25.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGk_GBVAv1i_-mpcnQRDt9qUILw4dnTYR0-d8fv49DDcUofmxc5XcewfxzWwC9ZUzlUdsKngbIQ2VnuBz4C423n3-4LxiHsym2smTz4DdAIUegql0lVeBzBrJ5oMLHLeVume9u6uPUFmR0Y3Qe9sgfqUJ0-Cx8WsrY3QpOwzjhoIeEEuY0zLkpxDwIw/s4618/IMG_20180506_0951530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4618" data-original-width="3464" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCGk_GBVAv1i_-mpcnQRDt9qUILw4dnTYR0-d8fv49DDcUofmxc5XcewfxzWwC9ZUzlUdsKngbIQ2VnuBz4C423n3-4LxiHsym2smTz4DdAIUegql0lVeBzBrJ5oMLHLeVume9u6uPUFmR0Y3Qe9sgfqUJ0-Cx8WsrY3QpOwzjhoIeEEuY0zLkpxDwIw/s320/IMG_20180506_0951530.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIOhOWpsKmAd5r95ELAzDMnDwlIeS658SoxsnSTrScYmQVyFGwOQcbCR0tcwpd55DSLxuwr0YcmuOwG1374bk1iIwxW4yZoE16puwB4wWDO_h8GEDDv914uLEgKPfv3dMdUjVoPQpYvs0AJk2XX7bKKvpIef8szTcZEypr-rvAN1O49lfnS9rpxUyeA/s1072/tul%20p%203%20may5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="1072" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIOhOWpsKmAd5r95ELAzDMnDwlIeS658SoxsnSTrScYmQVyFGwOQcbCR0tcwpd55DSLxuwr0YcmuOwG1374bk1iIwxW4yZoE16puwB4wWDO_h8GEDDv914uLEgKPfv3dMdUjVoPQpYvs0AJk2XX7bKKvpIef8szTcZEypr-rvAN1O49lfnS9rpxUyeA/s320/tul%20p%203%20may5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>2. Watch videos and photos on the Twitter feed of Keukenhof, the world's largest spring garden, located near Amsterdam. It's a delight and the next best thing to visiting there. Hurry; the season ends on May 14.</p><p><span> <a href="https://twitter.com/visitkeukenhof" target="_blank">Keukenhof</a></span><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>3. A lovely relaxation video, Flying Over Netherlands, which is accompanied by music. Instant happiness for tulip appreciators.</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nl_4MXZEXm4" target="_blank">Flying Over Netherlands</a> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-28777423883397972332023-05-02T16:52:00.000-04:002023-05-02T16:52:01.945-04:00Gordon Lightfoot<p> I was sad to read that Gordon Lightfoot passed away yesterday.</p><p><br /></p><p>My first concert was a Gordon Lightfoot performance at Massey Hall in November 1968. He seemed as though he belonged on that stage. He used to perform there every November, his birthday month. For a while in the 70s, my favourite singer alternated between him and Stevie Wonder.</p><p><br /></p><p>Gordie wrote some of Canada's best songs, which included folk, rock, and ballads. He had a unique style and a great voice (the latter was unlike someone he was often compared to, Bob Dylan). The CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) commissioned him to write something in honour of Canada's centennial in 1967. He wrote Canadian Railroad Trilogy, which he had to research. A superb piece of historical writing.</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXzauTuRG78" target="_blank">Canadian Railroad Trilogy</a></p><p><br /></p><p>What's my favourite Lightfoot song? It's too hard too choose just one. </p><p><br /></p><p>Here's another possibility that perhaps isn't as well known, Christian Island, an ode to his sailboat and to summers at the cottage.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fP3n_U7G2CY">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fP3n_U7G2CY</a></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-17837610606100370842023-04-15T18:12:00.003-04:002023-04-15T18:12:43.167-04:00The Mayoral Election: A Modest Proposal<p> Due to a sudden resignation of John Tory, Toronto's former mayor, there's another municipal election coming up in June.</p><p>With no incumbent, it's an open field for candidates.</p><p>Today's Toronto Star stated that there are now</p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">46 candidates...and counting!</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p>Enough is enough! </p><p>I propose that they</p><p>- cut off the number of candidates when they reach 52,</p><p>- put the list in alphabetical order,</p><p>- call off the election,</p><p>and </p><p>- let each candidate be mayor for one week a year.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-b4pyGZwA4bfGogQHppL3S-AiBzTVuUgamUv6yZunaYA02Ks2pMri7tMtHtum8aH4djQBj9KIhk49SBkaWCos2Q_xboonviU6Ndeo9Hy-Yp4EHBIvPTBB0qZ6bkDojzlaOu9G1C9-A87F2mfQrWGjdeHIG2KJVFY_0kIN7rZaxrXVyFbOIDLxRS1yjA/s4618/IMG_20180506_0951530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4618" data-original-width="3464" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-b4pyGZwA4bfGogQHppL3S-AiBzTVuUgamUv6yZunaYA02Ks2pMri7tMtHtum8aH4djQBj9KIhk49SBkaWCos2Q_xboonviU6Ndeo9Hy-Yp4EHBIvPTBB0qZ6bkDojzlaOu9G1C9-A87F2mfQrWGjdeHIG2KJVFY_0kIN7rZaxrXVyFbOIDLxRS1yjA/s320/IMG_20180506_0951530.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-48271406466803785192022-12-09T12:56:00.004-05:002022-12-09T13:03:51.656-05:00Joni was right, Doug<p>Doug Ford's at it again. He plans to put a new, unnecessary highway through the protected Greenbelt. Now he's getting rid of another prime provincial parcel of land, right on Lake Ontario, land that should be enjoyed by the public.</p><p><br /></p><p>When I saw this headline in today's Toronto Star:</p><p><br /></p><p>"Ontario Place proposal sparks criticism:</p><p>New plans include <span style="color: #2b00fe;">five-level parking lot, removal of hundreds of trees </span>to build spa"</p><p>(page 1, article by Ben Mussett and David Rider)</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2595abcvh2M">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2595abcvh2M</a></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I couldn't help thinking of Joni Mitchell's song, <i>Big Yellow Taxi</i>.</p><p>"They paved paradise/</p><p>Put up a parking lot."</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-46256890321163691162022-11-01T17:43:00.006-04:002022-11-01T17:43:55.594-04:00Stretches for Seniors<p>I'm always looking for new ways to exercise that </p><p>1) are low-impact</p><p>and</p><p>2) won't hurt my knees.</p><p><br /></p><p>Recently, I came across this gem entitled </p><p><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">Stretches for Seniors.</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy8cwJiozPp7K_vteNOk3_FKhawOZDThjUySdt2QurpiqxUrdVIae6BTYVrR7SaBWMQzIhSnraRG0LTw5LDjQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Well, one out of two isn't bad.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-58411445545235113562022-09-11T17:51:00.002-04:002022-09-11T18:43:59.845-04:00September 11 and Other Historical Dates<p> Most people can remember where they were and what they were doing when traumatic events happen.</p><p><br /></p><p>On Tuesday, September 11, 2001</p><p>I was in my living room, watching a rerun of L.A. Law, with my sleeping puppy, Echo, on my lap. The program was interrupted by breaking news and I watched in shock as the second plane crashed into the tower. Our house renovator, John, came into the living room, took one look at the tv, and this man who never swore in front of me used some colourful language. I called my mother and told her to turn on the tv.</p><p><br /></p><p>On Friday, November 22, 1963</p><p>I was in front of my gym locker, getting dressed after a Phys Ed class. A rumour started about President Kennedy being shot. I didn't believe it, until it was confirmed in my next class, Geography. Our teacher told us to go home.</p><p><br /></p><p>On Thursday, September 8, 2022</p><p>I was on Twitter when I noticed the news about Queen Elizabeth II's death. Although we knew that Queen Elizabeth was getting old and frail, she seemed as if she would just go on forever. Her death last Thursday is the end of an era and an historic moment. She's joined Prince Phillip. Rest in peace, Your Majesty.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkIn_8CD07MH7JXqNlBfgYOCQ0UPinKIkP9paiBQbeFbEGruWnJtDdTwasBrHo4ITutHptcvGElPZQxcMTgOL9kPDYQXO2Rsf8fCOJ2g4BJ0ChO-qBr0JfaGaZXLEbZ8luBIpBQBIbqSJD1oBOVqYG_8idQY3iOfKNRHN279p0BQ5M5lInYiH8Jgwlw/s900/Princess-Anne-queen-coffin-091122-01-2000-24893120e4b940bcb552790c0a115d56.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="900" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkIn_8CD07MH7JXqNlBfgYOCQ0UPinKIkP9paiBQbeFbEGruWnJtDdTwasBrHo4ITutHptcvGElPZQxcMTgOL9kPDYQXO2Rsf8fCOJ2g4BJ0ChO-qBr0JfaGaZXLEbZ8luBIpBQBIbqSJD1oBOVqYG_8idQY3iOfKNRHN279p0BQ5M5lInYiH8Jgwlw/s320/Princess-Anne-queen-coffin-091122-01-2000-24893120e4b940bcb552790c0a115d56.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-38235625858786191582022-09-04T15:06:00.000-04:002022-09-04T15:06:15.498-04:00No Bear Hugs: The Importance of Copyright <p> Copyright.</p><p>It's something all authors need and take for granted.</p><p>We place that little symbol on the copyright page of our self-published book. Our traditional book publisher does that. The newspaper or magazine or ezine where we publish articles, short stories, or poems.</p><p>I'm not a lawyer and am not giving legal advice here. I'm just noticing something disturbing in an article in today's Toronto Star about the new</p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">WINNIE THE POOH movie <span style="color: red;">FOR ADULTS</span>, that's a <span style="color: red;">HORROR SLASHER MOVIE.</span></span></b></p><p>What????!!!!</p><p>I'm not going to give it any free publicity by naming it, but you can easily do a search to find its name.</p><p>I couldn't help groaning and shaking my head several times as I read the article. (The journalist was clearly as shocked and disgusted as I was.)</p><p>Apparently, the <span style="color: #674ea7;">copyright protection for Winnie the Pooh has gone into public domain.</span></p><p> Anyone can write whatever screenplay or novel or whatever they wish. But sometimes common sense and decency should be at play as well a crass desire to cash in a childhood classic's popularity and turn it into the exact opposite of the author's intention.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm going out on a tree limb to guess the intention of author, A.A. Milne:</p><p>To share some gentle wisdom and humour that will help a child, lull them to sleep, or brighten their day.</p><p><br /></p><p>Let this be a lesson to all authors about copyright protection. You'd think 100 years would be long enough to protect a children's classic from this sort of thing. Guess not.</p><p><br /></p><p>The thought of this new horror movie can be expressed best by Eeyore:</p><p>"It moved me to tears."</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-52065348140176918742022-05-13T12:51:00.001-04:002022-05-13T12:51:03.453-04:00Friday May 13: Good or Bad Luck?<p> Usually I don't notice whether Friday the 13 is lucky or not for me.</p><p>There have been a couple of exceptions, February 1981 and November 1992.</p><p>The former was the date of my father's funeral and the latter was the day I was in a car accident.</p><p><br /></p><p>But this May 13 is definitely lucky for fans of <span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;">Stevie Wonder,</span> born 72 years ago today!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CFuCYNx-1g">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CFuCYNx-1g</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-68169658951506592022-04-19T13:33:00.008-04:002022-04-19T13:59:43.683-04:00Right on, Anne!<p>As I looked at the dismal weather on my terrace yesterday, I remembered something I read a long time ago. The quote is from Anne Shirley, also known as</p><p> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">Anne of Green Gables</span>.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5Wu1yk4h-Q848ZYNH9emamDgxRgCKQgV2QtdPJYtq_02AAmeu4XBQ2HPSBTsOLYQnpt5pfZoFdP7i-ZgM6XVww0C4NlxVfJAsb0cT1cI0nUp8I3LWjnBvIorajDwQVg4lNMxdQgbIDm4fX-XECn3n459jI9y-9dfsXVXeb71jUT80mO33d3Db_1muQ/s640/April%20snow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5Wu1yk4h-Q848ZYNH9emamDgxRgCKQgV2QtdPJYtq_02AAmeu4XBQ2HPSBTsOLYQnpt5pfZoFdP7i-ZgM6XVww0C4NlxVfJAsb0cT1cI0nUp8I3LWjnBvIorajDwQVg4lNMxdQgbIDm4fX-XECn3n459jI9y-9dfsXVXeb71jUT80mO33d3Db_1muQ/w300-h400/April%20snow.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">"Snow is April is abominable," said Anne. "Like a slap in the face when you expect a kiss."</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;">--<i> L.M. Montgomery, <u>Anne of Ingleside</u>.</i></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-4970547750469576382022-03-28T18:14:00.000-04:002022-03-28T18:14:16.091-04:00 Characterization Lessons from Old TV Series<p>Recently we joined the 21st century and started using tv streaming services. </p><p>I really like the access to old tv series whenever I want. Columbo. Blue Bloods. The Twilight Zone. And the two Hawaii Five-Os.</p><p>The original series starred Jack Lord and aired from 1968-1980. </p><p>Link to Wikipedia description:</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawaii_Five-O_(1968_TV_series)">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawaii_Five-O_(1968_TV_series)</a></p><p>I didn't watch it when it first ran. (It probably conflicted with something else I preferred.) It's a police procedural, set in Honolulu. The dialogue and the acting style is kind of dated. But it's fun in its own way. Jack Lord runs around scorching Honolulu chasing criminals in a wool suit and tie (wide lapels, wide tie). The young people are always hippies and dumb (and usually the criminals). But there's always a mystery to solve and lots of action.</p><p>The reboot, most of which I watched when it was current, is much better. Why? Because the main characters on Reboot Five-O have personal lives, aside from their jobs. Families, romantic interests, personal conflicts, and background stories. They aren't just cardboard figures to slot into a plot to solve a mystery in 53 minutes. They're rounded characters, not flat. There's lots of humorous dialogue, interplay between McGarrett and Danny. We care about them. And because we care about them, the stakes are higher when they're in danger.</p><p>Another example of this is the original NCIS. Gibbs is more than just the leader of the NCIS team. He has an elderly father, three ex-wives, a former partner, and a first wife and daughter who died tragically. He dates from time to time. Tony has a problematic relationship with his father, too. And he doesn't relate well to women until Ziva comes along. Ziva has a problematic relationship with her father, has to decide which country has her loyalty (Israel or the U.S.), and has a lovely, teasing relationship with Tony that plays out over several seasons. Even Ducky has lots of background stories: the military, a long-lost brother, an elderly mother with dementia. These are truly rounded characters and we care about them.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-60631976522645332012022-03-20T14:23:00.000-04:002022-03-20T14:23:36.104-04:00Echo's Leash Dance <p> In celebration of what would have been <span style="color: #674ea7;">Echo's birthday, March 20</span>,</p><p>Echo would like to remind you to</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dztf26UgORu6DCdE0Bl9KVzpoivd5kB3XUVEa6RZyjFSe5Fu64OBBEBdLcQtN2MT-WOW73ItGDOJLrpe4XmKA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">"Dance with your leash!"</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-61372405448319946392022-03-18T12:49:00.002-04:002022-03-18T12:51:38.346-04:00Round Up Your Mates for St. Patrick's Day<p> A fun video for dog lovers.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y07at1bU89Q">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y07at1bU89Q</a></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-55375849127867541972022-01-17T13:15:00.001-05:002022-01-17T13:15:08.305-05:00California Dreaming <p>First photo, of the snow-covered owls, taken today. Second one, same view, taken December 29, 2013. </p><p>For comparison, the owls are 12" high. The glass railing is 3 ' high.</p><p>It's still snowing and will continue for several hours.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPevZ8BeGi9xk0dcH2xwHck3iK2_WJFNdtr_3wwz9RwNBnb-XiPjrzezFN4-St8PVt6hDRw79Pme_sbNZFnyUoStSdoTvtcI9N7Ovo2gidCFXmyLpzlciPvPTdnWl9PVCpbOB979gE74BflattQ-TORdjNzbEYI3VJ-gvVSqnhv7xO9a6k_tMJTn0s3w=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPevZ8BeGi9xk0dcH2xwHck3iK2_WJFNdtr_3wwz9RwNBnb-XiPjrzezFN4-St8PVt6hDRw79Pme_sbNZFnyUoStSdoTvtcI9N7Ovo2gidCFXmyLpzlciPvPTdnWl9PVCpbOB979gE74BflattQ-TORdjNzbEYI3VJ-gvVSqnhv7xO9a6k_tMJTn0s3w=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjeFFL-rgXvCLUOuT1dXot4Hs_XzJWG43cTDqqNb9Fo-PyLmrw68ZIasIF8Lm1XK2qaaR_jEC-tXA74R6kFn1CHRVZRKbM03E6ArU-L_34Rhs2DCy2EvDWeGGEQZuTub57Fmwvu99XntLiSwCceezinS7DtCsIvKklljSK3Z9_f83SeUR3r8M8YbIo6A=s1600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjeFFL-rgXvCLUOuT1dXot4Hs_XzJWG43cTDqqNb9Fo-PyLmrw68ZIasIF8Lm1XK2qaaR_jEC-tXA74R6kFn1CHRVZRKbM03E6ArU-L_34Rhs2DCy2EvDWeGGEQZuTub57Fmwvu99XntLiSwCceezinS7DtCsIvKklljSK3Z9_f83SeUR3r8M8YbIo6A=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitw4Z1aYBEq2_B-K-1CSUYNmOvomOBSW2gWBIFsaXcRHakCV8URYcW3ra8jJGqXbUUFcWQ6Ih3dGry4p3cxLRsfBmyX0jpZa9OdYEctot7FQtwXo28fNSxErHvRTOFEBG0y4ZISrxPaxC0pLQ-iDOzjguK2ekEgS68G4lLWqgkpHL6PflkPdHxvDBzQg=s640" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitw4Z1aYBEq2_B-K-1CSUYNmOvomOBSW2gWBIFsaXcRHakCV8URYcW3ra8jJGqXbUUFcWQ6Ih3dGry4p3cxLRsfBmyX0jpZa9OdYEctot7FQtwXo28fNSxErHvRTOFEBG0y4ZISrxPaxC0pLQ-iDOzjguK2ekEgS68G4lLWqgkpHL6PflkPdHxvDBzQg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>This is one of the times I'm glad we're in a condo and don't have to worry about shovelling a driveway or sidewalks. We cancelled M's appointment for today.</p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-70749954621467129982021-07-31T16:11:00.002-04:002021-07-31T16:11:13.506-04:00Dog and Owlet Are Best Friends<p>Found this You Tube video about Ingo, a Belgian Shepherd, who was best friends with an abandoned owlet, Poldi.</p><p>Beautifully photographed by <b><span style="color: red;">Tanja Brandt</span></b>, a German wildlife photographer.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYNqgF3r6rc">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYNqgF3r6rc</a></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-16914175301374511712021-07-18T17:24:00.002-04:002021-07-18T17:24:33.731-04:00An old poem retrieved from my files<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Plane Crashes, No Survivors</b></span></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>grief</i></p><div style="text-align: left;">for ourselves</div><div style="text-align: left;">alone, so alone</div><div style="text-align: left;">a father, a brother</div><div style="text-align: left;">an uncle, a friend</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">raw pain scorches</div><div style="text-align: left;">no tears left</div><div style="text-align: left;">a gaping hole</div><div style="text-align: left;">where there once was a heart</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>regret</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">half-empty album</div><div style="text-align: left;">for daughters on bicycles</div><div style="text-align: left;">bridal bouquets</div><div style="text-align: left;">and grandchildren's hugs</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">novels half-finished</div><div style="text-align: left;">cases untried</div><div style="text-align: left;">missing puzzle pieces </div><div style="text-align: left;">will never be found</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>memory</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">remembering Jim</div><div style="text-align: left;">a laugh sent by email</div><div style="text-align: left;">my Internet friend</div><div style="text-align: left;">who wrote gorgeous prose</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">quest for adventure</div><div style="text-align: left;">beyond the next cloud</div><div style="text-align: left;">exuberant pilot</div><div style="text-align: left;">will soar forever</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Copyright 1997, Barbara Etlin, all rights reserved</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>In memory of Jim Osborne (1948-1997)</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-4292260503268371082021-01-05T17:13:00.004-05:002021-01-06T12:20:33.671-05:00Signs of the Times, Part Two<p> Remember the</p><p><a href="https://owlsquill.blogspot.com/2019/09/signs-of-times.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><span style="font-size: medium;">clever billboards </span><span style="font-size: large;">in front of a synagogue</span></span></a></p><p> that have been brightening up a nearby street?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>The synagogue hasn't had any visitors since March,</p><p> but that writer has been busy making drivers smile.</p><p><br /></p><p>Here are more examples of <span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;">sparse writing</span>, </p><p>where every word counts.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: x-large;">Thou shalt not covid thy neighbour's wif</span><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: x-large;">e.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">2020 is hindsight.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p>In my copywriting days, the layout came first and I had to fit my copy into it.</p><p>I had to count words. Sometimes I had to count characters.</p><p>That was excellent training for other kinds of writing.</p><p><br /></p><p>I appreciate this writer's economy of words and sense of humour.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-27265311029465738712020-11-15T17:49:00.001-05:002020-11-15T17:50:13.206-05:00Driveby Birthday Surprise Party<p> How do you celebrate</p><p> a <span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">special birthday</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">during a pandemic?</span></p><p><br /></p><p>If you're my friend, </p><p>and if you have imaginative, super special kids,</p><p>you have a</p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">DRIVEBY BIRTHDAY PARADE!</span></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p>Everyone wore <span style="color: #6fa8dc;">masks</span>,</p><p>we stayed in our cars--<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">physically distanced</span>--</p><p>while the birthday girl and her family</p><p>talked to us through our car window.</p><p><br /></p><p>It could have been a traffic jam on her street</p><p>but we all had our assigned times to arrive.</p><p>The sun even came out for a few minutes</p><p>on this rainy, blustery day.</p><p><br /></p><p>Party favours were a choice of <span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;">kosher chocolate treats!</span></p><p><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_O8KZHsAi4ZHuNXq3eio61zOegmWwUs45wlF9kLKKmkiAOBJwslWBThoOoFsssUbshppnTISKzwVhtfyLEpuhQT-279VOTi9gh3YyILJUWL0fLBhEmzTfHIEuyamb7TQVPWoZA11alYS/s320/painting2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_O8KZHsAi4ZHuNXq3eio61zOegmWwUs45wlF9kLKKmkiAOBJwslWBThoOoFsssUbshppnTISKzwVhtfyLEpuhQT-279VOTi9gh3YyILJUWL0fLBhEmzTfHIEuyamb7TQVPWoZA11alYS/s0/painting2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-77660645720975439642020-10-21T14:54:00.003-04:002020-10-21T15:04:59.528-04:00<p style="text-align: center;"> <b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Reasons I Appreciate October</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LU_ATy2CHrQ/UqijVMCXSPI/AAAAAAAAA5A/RP1PvlRic8orjy13S9CIcZ2l0jf_6Ob7wCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/art%2Bdeco%2Bvase%2Btul%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LU_ATy2CHrQ/UqijVMCXSPI/AAAAAAAAA5A/RP1PvlRic8orjy13S9CIcZ2l0jf_6Ob7wCPcBGAYYCw/s320/art%2Bdeco%2Bvase%2Btul%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c8svbQb5rrY/X5B7qCJorWI/AAAAAAAAESo/ygw7FaQzg-Qh1Js4AKFQMBhynhTQdki_QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0808.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c8svbQb5rrY/X5B7qCJorWI/AAAAAAAAESo/ygw7FaQzg-Qh1Js4AKFQMBhynhTQdki_QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0808.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #674ea7;">Cut tulips are available again.</span></i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGuvMkhaucJy-Yox5Mnt7okM-1_WKAakdmeWmyWEMHm21CGaVa0MaFfLl0J7sdgFU6PDBgzTAejJ1jBgw0LY0asLvzV-u_38fWJ4v_2oZDjbaCPumR1S_CqipQKstn6e6e-oYIgL1kBAcW/s2048/IMG_0805.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGuvMkhaucJy-Yox5Mnt7okM-1_WKAakdmeWmyWEMHm21CGaVa0MaFfLl0J7sdgFU6PDBgzTAejJ1jBgw0LY0asLvzV-u_38fWJ4v_2oZDjbaCPumR1S_CqipQKstn6e6e-oYIgL1kBAcW/s320/IMG_0805.HEIC" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsSDJMyIGDE/X5B8UprLOsI/AAAAAAAAES0/Cfe2uyd5AlIZdszTTLZjRgNt7yAz7gsawCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0799.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsSDJMyIGDE/X5B8UprLOsI/AAAAAAAAES0/Cfe2uyd5AlIZdszTTLZjRgNt7yAz7gsawCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0799.HEIC" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O8VzC4ENZiY/X5B9fLQW1ZI/AAAAAAAAETE/ZsfhNOuAGHkul18A4VoeSjJ1XFL9b_DkACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0803.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-O8VzC4ENZiY/X5B9fLQW1ZI/AAAAAAAAETE/ZsfhNOuAGHkul18A4VoeSjJ1XFL9b_DkACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0803.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><i>The colours are especially vivid this year.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Law4qJNEXbY/X5B-2ncGgDI/AAAAAAAAETQ/DsU9Q8CrLeI5kAsROb3N1i0W6Y0VFFNcACLcBGAsYHQ/s128/hover%2Bheart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="128" data-original-width="128" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Law4qJNEXbY/X5B-2ncGgDI/AAAAAAAAETQ/DsU9Q8CrLeI5kAsROb3N1i0W6Y0VFFNcACLcBGAsYHQ/s0/hover%2Bheart.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /><i><br /></i></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;"><b>October 21 (and October 23) </b></span></p><p>On October 21, 1976, M got up the nerve to phone a strange woman, introduce himself, and ask her for a date. The strange woman accepted. They got together for a coffee date on Saturday October 23. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>October 23 was cold and snowy. I remember I wore my winter jacket and boots and a sweater and blue velvet pants. M wore a beige suit. I thought, "Snazzy dresser!" I didn't see that suit for another year and a half. I told him that anyone who wanted to get along with me had to be funny. (I didn't know he would consider that as a challenge.) He immediately told me six funny jokes. </p><p>On the seventh date he thought I asked him to eliminate a tense, so he changed the simple past tense to the pluperfect tense in everything he said for a couple of hours. (Again I didn't know I was giving him a humour challenge.) I figured someone who could make me laugh so much was a keeper.</p><p>We've been laughing ever since.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnxjbXtJwdI/X5CCbxFZLyI/AAAAAAAAETc/MNApWhP0CDEI0GRGrroT0SFlLCkyeVwMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s128/had%2Bhad%2Bheart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="128" data-original-width="128" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hnxjbXtJwdI/X5CCbxFZLyI/AAAAAAAAETc/MNApWhP0CDEI0GRGrroT0SFlLCkyeVwMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s0/had%2Bhad%2Bheart.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2288695458328961236.post-55836855977854581032020-07-21T17:55:00.001-04:002020-07-21T17:55:10.795-04:00But On the Bright Side...During these trying--I am so over the word "unprecedented"--times<div>it helps to find something hopeful.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am appreciating these things that have occurred since the beginning of the pandemic.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><font color="#674ea7" size="5"><b>1. Better tv advertising.</b></font></div><div><font color="#674ea7"><b><br /></b></font></div><div>Have you noticed the soft-sell tv ads? The commercial starts with some soothing music accompanying text and visuals that make us feel good about ourselves. Most of the ad is that kind of thing. At the very end, you see the logo of the advertiser. They tug at the heartstrings and don't try to hit you over the head with "Buy! Buy! Buy!" I wish advertising would keep this up, even after the end of the pandemic.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><font color="#674ea7" size="5">2. Outdoor concerts at seniors' residences.</font></b></div><div><br /></div><div>At the seniors' residence next door to us they have one concert a week, usually Tuesday or Wednesday afternoon, depending on the weather. It's the good stuff, too: songs from the sixties, rock, guitar, jazz piano. The seniors sit on their balconies to listen. I said "sit" but often they're dancing along. It's a joy to watch them.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><font color="#674ea7" size="5"><b>3. The return of manners and kindness.</b></font></div><div><font color="#674ea7"><b><br /></b></font></div><div>Maybe they never went away, but they're more noticeable now. I'm so grateful for those cashiers and delivery people. They really mean it when they say, "Have a good day!" And so do I.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today, after grocery shopping, M and I checked out the rest of the mall to see whether the stores were open yet. What a relief to see that most of them, except the restaurants, had reopened. We're still in Phase Two here, and I'm glad the Ontario government is being cautious and gradual about the reopenings. But, wow, how wonderful to see something out there that reminds me of "normality." </div><div><br /></div><div>Have a good day!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Barbara Etlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07190731838738606727noreply@blogger.com8