A Random Congregation

 At times, even in old age and with certain political leanings, a table of strangers can prove to be one of the most gregarious and warm times we may have.

As one of my advance birthday treats, Daughter took me a dinner theatre. We had never been to this particular one before (but had been to a few others.) This was in downtown St. John's. In a gorgeous old hall.

There were, of course, two of us and we were seated at a table of eight. We knew none of them. Slowly the thaw began, and we all introduced ourselves. Beside me were a thirty-something woman and her teenage son who were from the tiny village of Dildo, Newfoundland (yes, you read that right).

Beside my daughter sat a couple from Buffalo, New York. And next to them was a woman from Tasmania and her sister who was from Melbourne, Australia. A very United Nations representation indeed.

The USians made us all a little nervous, until Buffalo Hubbie said it was their fifth trip to Newfoundland and they felt they were quite Canadian now. You could see the relief around the table. As you just never, ever know. This opening gambit thawed everyone out. 

The conversation soared after that. Tasmania was really interesting in that when I mentioned Richard Flanagan, one of my favourite authors, her face lit up and she told me he was one of her closest friends as they were both activists. Long chat about Richard. Melbourne had actually lived in Newfoundland on a contract for a few years a decade prior, loved it and hauled her sister to see it as she never forgot her experiences there and they were staying a month, touring. Dildo was treating her son, a theatre nut, to his first dinner theatre.

The dinner was served. Daughter and I gave the table a list of things they should see that weren't on the touristy brochures after we ascertained what interested them. Another flood of conversation about the whales and the extraordinary bird and caribou life here.

The musical show was hysterically funny and was a murder mystery in a home for the aged called "Foggy Memories."

Half-time saw a break with dessert (delicious) being served and more conversation. The Buffalos were huge fans of PBS (the US public broadcasting service) after I mentioned I was a supporter since its founding. We all had seen some of the offerings - All Creatures Great and Small, Grantchester, etc. We then sympathized with what was happening in the USA but all agreed that most Americans were not like the horror show that had taken over their government. Buffalos were quite weepy at this outpouring of support and understanding.

At the very end. We all stood along with the cast and sang "Ode to Newfoundland" the provincial anthem.

As we all parted after everyone (audience too!) singing the anthem (see below) it was quite emotional for a bunch of strangers to all be hugging each other as we parted ways to different areas of the province.

And it crossed my mind, if only politicians and governments could sit down and do this, the world would be a far, far better place. We have so much in common and so little dividing us.

Ode to Newfoundland

When sun rays crown thy pine clad hills,
And summer spreads her hand,
When silvern voices tune thy rills,
We love thee, smiling land.

We love thee, we love thee,
We love thee, smiling land.

When spreads thy cloak of shimmering white,
At winter's stern command,
Thro' shortened day, and starlit night,
We love thee, frozen land.

We love thee, we love thee
We love thee, frozen land.

When blinding storm gusts fret thy shore,
And wild waves lash thy strand,
Thro' spindrift swirl, and tempest roar,
We love thee windswept land.

We love thee, we love thee
We love thee windswept land.

As loved our fathers, so we love,
Where once they stood, we stand;
Their prayer we raise to Heaven above,
God guard thee, Newfoundland

God guard thee, God guard thee,
God guard thee, Newfoundland.

 Count how many times "love" is mentioned in this beautiful anthem.

Remiss

So many rabbit holes I went down lately. And had to forego some pleasure (aka this blog) and explore other avenues of creative expression.

I went back to major "big piece creation" in knitting. I started a throw for my godson and his wife. A belated wedding gift. 

I had to make a tough decision about my friend here with Alzheimers/ Dementia. I don't know about other elders out there, but I find I can't tolerate too much stress in my life anymore. And keeping track of her or making arrangements with her were proving to be increasingly challenging. It's a dreadful disease, and I lived beside it a few times, most notably with one of my closest friends, Lana. Written about here.

With Susan (pseudonym) her dementia is different, often hostile, oblivious and defensive about her condition. I tell her I'll text her rather than phone, as she remembers texts better. "Ouch, not true," she says, "I just delete texts!"  Well......I spoke to another friend about the decision to detach and the frisson of guilt I was feeling when she reminded me that Susan would forget about me very quickly. And that is true. I haven't responded to her calls or her texts in the last few days. 

I note HP is no longer supporting my old expensive (at the time) workhorse of a laser printer, so I had to shop around, which took time. I will never deal with HP again. This time I got a scanner too so I could copy valuable documents for my siblings. We are sharing so much these days on Whatsapp. Pooling our mementoes as we all face the grim reaper.

Daughter and Grandgirl treated me big time for my upcoming birthday. Two theatre events (how I miss theatre) and a weekend away in a gorgeous inn by the lake. 

I feel I have a new lease on life after all the sickness and I am so grateful for this. We just never know how long we have and we need to maximise our remaining seconds on this planet.

The planet is in such a sorry state currently. Endless wars, the climate crisis. And a criminal cabal in the country south of us enriching themselves as the citizens get poorer and hungrier and without healthcare. I don't pay it as much mind as I used to, apart from occasional outrage on Bluesky, but I have moved away from all the political screaming and finger-pointing as it truly doesn't make anyone accountable for the myriad of crimes committed daily against the most vulnerable. Something massive died in many of us when concentration camps were normalized (for nearly a century now.)

So yeah, long-winded. I wind up with a picture of my orchids which bloom constantly and are staggeringly beautiful.

May there be more beauty in all of our days and less worry and stress.