Mary Soderstrom's Blog, page 102

The newspapers I read have been full of advertising from the Canadian  Association of Petroleum Producers with pictures of attractive "real" people extolling the virtues of the Alberta Oil Sands projects.

 This is one of the videos that go with the ads: Chelsie Klassen, who works in community relations for Imperial Oil, telling just how much good the oil industry does. Posted about a month ago, it goes hand in hand with a blitz to convince Americans that Canadian oil is "ethical" oil.

 The idea is that since Canada is better on the human rights front than other oil supplies--the example given is Saudi Arabia where women "can't even drive"--everyone should get behind the efforts to exploit the oil sands and bring the oil to the US.

All garbage, if you ask me. Aa is the pussy-footing that both Romney and Obama did when asked about oil in the debate earlier this week. The bottom line is that we have to reduce our reliance on fossil fuel products, because there's no way to develop them in a way that isn't doing more harm than good.

One of the shocking things about life in the 21st century is how we quickly forget the fights of the past.  Today is Person's Day, the anniversary of the British Privy Council (yes, it was the highest tribunal with jurisdiction over Canada at the time) declared that women were persons in the eye's of the law.  The year was 1929, which wasn't all that long ago...

The Famous Five who challenged women's "non-person" status were  Henrietta Muir Edwards, Nellie McClung, Louise McKinney, Emily Murphy and Irene Parlby.  Mothers of the country, indeed.

Spending time first with Jeanne and now with Thomas, I'm much more aware of the ways that the virtual world affects life.  Among them is the ease with which you can Google information about development steps, childhood illnesses, child-rearing practices and other things.

But I hadn't heard of this UK group with considerable political clout, Mumsnet until The New York Times had a story about it.  Very interesting the way the group uses polls to decide who advertises and what issues to champion, all the while providing an on-line forum for advice and comfort. 

The British mail order retailer Mothercare was a great source when our kids were little: glad to see that the tradition continues in a different form. 

And by the way, so does Mothercare with the great terry cloth diapers that are the best reusable ones still (or so I think, having looked rather closely at what's available here.) 

Thomas Edouard Soderstrom has begun to smile, and his Grandma spent most of the day playing with him. Therefore no post today, but lots of happy smiles.

I've got a new non-fiction book project running around in my head.  Called Road through Time , it will be about the marks we humans leave on the world, and other things.

My plan would see me go to Brazil to, among other things, take a two day bus ride from Rio Branco in eastern Amazonia across the Andes to Cuzco. Don't know if it will work out, but I'm going to have to get back to working on my Portuguese. Here's the original Orfeu Negro, the great movie from the 1950s that introduced me--and many others--to the country. Don't be fooled by the 1990s remake, this is the real thing.

It's not even the middle of October, but the Halloween decorations are out, and Reno Depot already is showing some Christmas decorations. 

But the colour are nice, so I suppose instead of railing against crass comercialism, maybe we should enjoy the show.

One of the great times of the year is when local apples start arriving at the markets. My favourite is the Cortland, which doesn't arrive usually until mid-October. They were a little early this year, as were most fruits around here, and I've already made apple pies.

Jeanne helped me last weekend. The pies were for Thanksgiving, and she rolled out the pastry dough, in her own wonderful, two-year old fashion. All along she was telling me about something that happened at the day care centre that I really didn't understand until her mother explained later that they'd picked apples (hung from the trees in the little courtyard before hand) and then made some kind of pie or crumble with them.

 Obviously the whole thing made a big impression on her, and perhaps this weekend we'll watch the following episode in the Caillou series. She's currently very taken by the little bald-headed kid, who made a fortune but ended up in the Supreme Court of Canada when it came time to share the profits.

 Is there a lesson there? Don't know except to acknowledge that little kids can be powerful

Next week I have four library reading groups, and, while I've read all the books in question, I like to go through each again to prepare for the discussions.

So right now I'm part way through Le Soleil des Scorta by Laurent Gaudé (Outremont), with Gabrielle Roy's Bonheur d'occasion (Kirkland) cued up right behind.  The English books are Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë (Atwater) and Nemesis by Philip Roth (Pierrefonds.)  Quite an eclectic collections.  All good reading too... but back to work.

When Lee was a boy, buying local meant buying produce from the Central Valley.  That's where his family lived, and he has many stories of going to farm stands for produce and of lucious fruit off his father's half dozen back yard trees.

I don't buy much from the Valley these days: Sunmaid Raisins are the only  consistent purchase.  Anything grown in California has to be trucked--or, even worse, flown--thousands of kilometers to Montreal.  Better to eat locally as mch as possible, I figure.  If root vegetables are about all local suppliers have in the winter, well, that'st the way it has to be.

 The New York Times today has a story about how the Central Valley is being badly treated, It is a cautionary tale, as troubling as the E.coli cases linked to the XL plant in Alberta that apparently processed 35 per cent of Canada's beef. 

The real message may be to buy locally--for everything.

The New York Time s has a very interesting story about catatraophe theory, and the way things can jog along forever and then suddenly change. 

Has to do with where lines on a graph cross, it seems.  Don't know if I really understand, but the story is definitely worth thinking about