Conjoined with phrases such as “far right” are “nationalism” and “isolationism”; and, all of them have both cultural and economic definition. Apart from those who have been tirelessly bigoted for decades, the latest dilution of so-called liberal political policies has arisen following the flood of immigrants worldwide upon the map of the Western world. Pragmatically the immigration would appear to be a reasonable choice for those escaping their respective dominions; but, Western nations are increasingly abutting the morality of immigration with the more functional concerns of cost and transition, not to mention the reputed challenges to identity and religion. In the Western world the history of Islamophobia far precedes that of anti-Semitism (hence the popular support of Israel over Palestine); just as the Ukraine now trumps the Soviet Union (a prejudice which is now a staple in Brussels). Meanwhile in America the Republicans under Donald J. Trump perpetuate the utterly comical theme of communism and socialism in the face of now accepted entitlements to health and education as a governmental objective. As usual on the other side of the world the Chinese attempt to avoid what for them are superfluous issues by confining their allegiances putatively to business interests only (though the allure of autocracy is undeniable considering the inescapable uniformity of costumes worn by the citizens). There is also a good chance the Chinese are just watching the Western world dissolve as it (China) overtakes the planet (Africa and the Caribbean for starters). This looming adventure (frequently illustrated by nothing but hard work and quiet reserve) threatens the vulgar hedonism of the Western countries as a model for the Chinese.

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Frailty is a condition associated with ageing and it has been recognized for centuries. It is a marker of a more widespread syndrome of frailty, with associated weakness, slowing, decreased energy, lower activity, and, when severe, unintended weight loss. As a frequent clinical syndrome in the elderly, various health risks are linked to health deterioration and frailty in older age, such as falls, disability, hospitalization, and mortality. Generally, frailty refers to older adults who lose independence. It also links to the experiences of losing dignity due to social and emotional isolation risk. Frailty has been identified as a risk factor for the development of dementia.

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It isn’t often I receive such an ample response to my narratives as the one below written by Suzanne.  Quite apart from the delightful nature of her account, I am flabbergasted by her ability to perform with the combination of such memory and acuity at the age of 92 years. And when I say perform I don’t just mean writing.  On a computer. Hers is get-up-and-go! Physically too she is a wonder, slim, great posture, mobile. And, yes, she drives.

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There has been a media and internet gush of predictable words from Trump and everyone around him. Trump’s criminal conviction on May 30th, 2024 may even rank with the World Series for universality. The Democrats appear to be keeping their cards to their chest, avoiding gleefully responding to the case. Nor is the complacency entirely without motive; there lingers the threat that somehow Trump will miraculously translate this disgrace and indiscretion into a cause célèbre useful to his election as president of the United States of America. This makes me ask myself, “Am I the only one who sees this?”

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No matter where on earth one finds oneself It is an inexpressible delight to awaken in the morning to the start of a new sunshiny day. Of course we all know we need rain.  But a blue sky with puffs of white clouds are so immediately stimulating and encouraging. Trouble evaporates. Obligation too. The pleasure this morning was further augmented by having hit the hay last night at 11:00 pm which is early enough to allow the statutory 8-hours without threat of abusing the morning, late enough to encourage a prompt dormancy. And apparently I profited from both; namely, I fell asleep without any lingering or disruptive anxieties, and I awoke precisely as the grandfather clock clanged eight o’clock fully rested and ready to greet the day.

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Sir:

As a remote Canadian observer from Canada I am daily distressed by the acceleration of anger between Americans. It seems so vengeful, so calculated, so useless. Its repeated abrasion has succeeded only to dampen the pain of the injury. It has become akin a high school debate where winning alone is the imperative.  Unfortunately we’re not dealing with a simple resolution such as “Little Red Riding Hood is a sexual myth” wherein the winner of the debate is irrelevant. What’s missing in these unending lobbies from one side to the other is any attempt to clarify why exactly the Americans are arguing in the first place. Nor is it enough simply to blame billionaires.  They need a working economy and happy workers more than anyone. And of course Trump is a puppet. We all are, just different strings.

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I don’t know about you but I’ve lately found that there’s an overwhelming amount of influence (guidance and pressure) upon my life that I hadn’t hitherto fully discerned or acknowledged.  I mean to say, getting where one is is not as simple as recounting the details of one’s scholarly achievements or movements about the planet.  The increasingly obvious fact to me is that there have been many circumstances and people, background and pathways, which were often hidden from view but which have unknowingly directed and swayed me. No doubt this private epiphany of mine is laughable to those of you who have a more critical analysis of your curriculum vitae or official record of what it is that made you what you are.  I guess I’m just so stubborn and intent upon getting my own way that I mistakenly (or should I say, arrogantly) assumed I had fully succeeded to do so without the unknown persuasion of others or the irreversible import of cultural and social dynamics.

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The piffling subject of car repair is however not without its substance and unwitting avenues of inspiration. Weeks ago I discovered the massage, lumbar and back bolster adjustments of the driver’s seat of my car were not functioning.  At eight o’clock this morning as scheduled I delivered the car to Alex Zimmerling, Service Advisor, Reid Bros GM dealership in Arnprior. Alex is always a pleasure; his dry wit being paramount.  He gave me a Chevrolet Equinox to drive in the meantime – which I am happy to say I do not like particularly well but only because it would have disappointed me to bring to light something I liked better than my XT4.

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It isn’t every day that we have to go to the city. I say “have to” because as a rural cave dweller approaching a near half-century (Almonte since 1976 to be precise) I have come to view the world beyond the Irish boundary of Corkery as uninviting. It is an irreverence which increases each time I go there not because I dislike the city in particular but because I find the commotion within its embroiled circumstance overwhelming.

Corkery is a dispersed rural community in West Carleton-March Ward in the western part of Ottawa, Canada. It is located about 9 km southwest of Carp, in the former Township of West Carleton. Corkery was founded by approximately 100 Irish families from County Cork immigrating to the region in the early 19th century, locally known as the “Peter Robinson settlers”. The first church in the village was built in 1837, although some reports put it at 1824 which would make it the second-oldest Catholic church in the Ottawa region.Construction began in 1864 on a stone church meant to replace the wooden structure. On February 26, 1865 the church was completed and consecrated as St. Michael’s Catholic Parish. The parish operated in debt for nearly two decades, until Rev. Patrick Corkery became minister in 1884, and spent the next twenty years improving and renovating the church.

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When I arrived in Almonte in June of 1976 I rented a house from Rev. and Mrs. George Bickley who then resided in the manse of St. Paul’s Anglican Church where Rev. Bickley was the minister. The first house I bought in 1978 was a very small house. Otherwise there are few remarkable features of it I now recall.  One however lingers.  That was a handmade bespoke stained glass window.  It too was relatively small, say 1½ feet square, with an ancient pine frame. The glasswork was made by Robert Pauly who I believe then had the further distinction of living in the Village of Clayton.  I do not remember how I was introduced to the artist but I clearly recollect that in addition to appreciating his talent I enjoyed dealing with him.  He stood out as they say. He was animated and up-lifting. The small window was located slightly above eye-level on the eastern exterior wall of the living room. As you might well conclude, it invited the early morning sunshine and profited in due course from the exuberance of the thriving stained glass. The little window (it was almost a porthole) opened and closed, with a brass hinge to secure it.

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