Keeping score

This rusty little box has been on a shelf in my office for a score of years. I don't remember exactly why I decided to make a millennial time capsule, but it must have seemed like a good idea at the time. Noticing it yesterday, and being on the cusp of a new decade (one with two 20's in it no less), I decided the day had come to open it.

At first glance, it looked pretty rough inside. No critter had been into it, but time had taken a toll on some of the items.

The series of millennial postage stamps look much older than 20 years. But they bring a certain cachet to the treasure trove of items inside. I love the fact that they were issued in honour of humanitarians and peacekeepers, the people whose faces probably also belong on our money.

And yes, the price of a stamp has more than doubled since I stashed these away. These oldies cost 46 cents (and may not have had tax added on back then), while today's basic postage stamp for delivery within Canada is $1.05. With the addition of the 5 cents for tax, they're now a whopping $1.10. No wonder people have abandoned writing letters and sending cards. Email and texting are not only cheaper, but waaaay faster.

I can't remember having any big fascination with Wonder Woman, though I do admit to owning a lamp that bears her image.

Apparently there were several incarnations of her back then, even a Barbie version, one I never bought into.

Yet somehow I got my hands on a Wonder Woman Pez dispenser, so in she went too.

I didn't open her packaging, so can't attest to the condition of the candies, but remembering how unappealing Pez usually were (even when brand-new fresh), I don't imagine these would be very delicious.

As for the 'official' millennial candy, m&m's made a certain sense, especially to me, a person who's always understood (and appreciated) Roman numerals. Where M means 1,000, the choice of m&m's was spot on. It's probably good that I only kept the lid to the container they came in, or critters may well have been tempted to discover my little cache.

While the Harry Potter books had only been out for a few years in December of 1999, they'd already made their mark on kids (of all ages, including me). The Band-Aids with the glow-in-the-dark lightning mark were intended, I am sure, to be worn on foreheads. But yes, here they sit mostly still in their wrappers (except for the one I couldn't resist opening).

Other items in there seem mostly pretty silly -- a CBC medallion in celebration of 60 years, an old library card and even a membership card from our once-upon-a-time video store.

There's also a bunch of quarters, mostly bearing the number 1999, though it turns out they were called 'millennial' coins. It's the same old image of the Queen on the front, though younger by some years, but their verso sides have some interesting designs: Voyageurs, pictographs, even a vintage airplane. The one I like best, which is dated 2000, bears the name "Natural Legacy" with an illustration of a salmon, a tree, and a cloud with falling rain. Little silvery treasures to be sure, though none with much value, as at least one side of each coin is badly tarnished, probably from spending so much time in a cheap metal box.

The item that got me thinking about all of this was Saturday's Globe and Mail, with its article about Y2K because yes, what else turned up in my little time capsule from 20 years ago but several sheets of stickers, bearing fanciful warnings about the much-dreaded (then) Y2K bug -- something that was bound to screw up our banking and send us all back to some pre-techno age.

So much for that worry, at least. I'm sure we can come up with others, probably next will be the further invasion of AI into our lives.

Happy new year, happy decade, and hey, who's keeping score?

Not quite the usual

No poinsettia this year, but when we were walking with Nadia the dog, this little spot of brightness out in the field was impossible to ignore.

People who read this blog will know that this December has been unusual for us, one we won't forget -- ever.

I for one am looking forward to the coming days and new year being better and better and better.

Best wishes for a happy Christmas, or Hanukkah or whatever holiday you observe with those you love.

First day of winter

Last night was the evening the Earth reached that point in the sky where the season officially changed. Winter Solstice, the day the light starts coming back. Even though it's only about four minutes more every day, I'm sure that early in the new year we'll be noticing the change. 

To observe the change of season, and to honour our brother Tom, we hosted a gathering of close friends. Everyone brought delicious treats, along with plenty of great stories for sharing. A highlight was the sharing of music -- so many talented friends in our midst. Chris Birkett's song, "Turning Round the Sun" may have been the most appropriate for the occasion.

But beyond seeing the change of season, our view out the window has also changed. The big broken tree out back came down, thanks to the skill of our neighbour, Paul.

Change everywhere around us, and doing our best to go along with it all.

As my motto through life seems to be, Onward.

A lesson in black (and white)

That's the beautiful Nadia, wearing the saddest face around. She's been missing her master, our beloved brother Tom.

But today, with a new blanket of fresh snow on the ground, when she came along with me on my walk around the farm, she decided to get silly.

First, she buried her snout (probably sniffing out a vole or some other interesting tidbit), then when
she popped back out, this was how she looked.

As is so often the case, it's the dog who has something to say in way of offering comfort.

Morning star

It's taken me a few days to get around to writing this. The photo is from Sunday morning, a bright Ontario sky.

The last time I saw this kind of configuration in the sky was November 2008, the morning after my mother had died.

This time, it was the morning after the visitation and memorial service for my dear brother-in-law, Tom.

We were blessed to know him, to witness his many talents, and to laugh with him. As for that morning star, I guess it was really a mourning star.

So much for democracy

Not so long ago an article came out in The Vancouver Sun with details about Surrey's proposed five-year budget plan. The details were appalling, pretty much excising any monies for the arts. But the arts weren't the only item on the chopping block.

About all I could do was write a letter to the editor; a few days later they printed it.

Since then, there have been other letters, and two meetings at City Hall that were packed with members of the public offering their objections.

Has this outcry made any difference? Not a chance. Steamroller is the word that comes to mind for our mayor's style of 'getting things done.' He insists he has the support of what he calls "the silent majority." That term was used by Richard Nixon as justification for continuing the horror of the Vietnam War. Since then, another person who's used this is none other than Donald Trump. Isn't there also a maxim about 'birds of a feather'?

There's bound to be more on this issue, especially with the final vote on this ill-conceived budget coming up mid-month. And even though he hasn't started listening, it's no excuse for us to give up. We need to keep writing letters, attending meetings, speaking out -- for the sake of our city and its future, we need to push back.