Ivy Commando Squad

This is me, rigged out in full battle gear, in process of cutting back our hedge.

It seems to me that the English have always been good at fortifications -- of course, it helps if you can start out on an island. I figure that's probably what inspired them to invent the moat for their castles.

The 'fortification' between our neighbours and us is a tall hedge of English ivy. All green and shiny, it looks innocent enough. But innocent it is not.

It puts out flowers that at first look like miniature bits of broccoli, but look out -- their pollen is a nightmare. Even wrapped in a bandanna, my throat gets to feel as though it wants to take a shower. And no, drinking water doesn't ease it. Poor old throat just feels as though it wants a good scrub.

Anyway, the chore is done for yet another season. I figure the hedge should behave until next spring. Then I'll don my Raiders shirt again and do yet another attack.

August 28, 1928 - August 12, 2006

In this world of unofficial marriages, this man, George Omorean, was my father-in-law. After a long struggle against cancer, he left this life one week ago, gone to whatever awaits us next. He was a good man, who got along with all kinds of people, even me. He accepted me, even though I was about the opposite of what they'd hoped for as a wife for their son, George. He even put up with my non-Romanian cooking.

He is survived by a fine family -- his wife, Persa; five adult children: John, Sophie, George, Leo, and Tom; three grandchildren (George, Gina, and Nick) and three great-grandchildren (Blake, Christopher, and Emily).

He leaves behind a beautiful farm in southern Ontario.
Here's a picture of 'my' George, strolling down the driveway there.