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I just read a letter to the editor in one of our local papers that pissed me off totally. A little background before I post her letter, and my response. The neighbourhoods we live in border what is known as “The Hood”. The Hood is primarly low income families renting from slumlords. There are many crack and drug houses and prostitutes on most of the corners. It is slowly being cleaned up. David Ramsay was a judge here that victimized a number of child prostitutes. The youngest was 12 at the time. You can read about the case here http://www.equalparenting-bc.ca/news/ramsay_david.htm

His request for parole was denied yesterday http://www.cbc.ca/canada/british-columbia/story/2007/09/12/bc-ramsay.html?ref=rss

The Backpacker Motel was known locally as the “Backstabber Motel”. It closed several years ago and the land was purchase to build a new 30 unit supportive housing complex. http://www.opinion250.com/blog/view/6772/23/dozers+start+work+at+backpacker?id=&st=15

Here is the letter sent to the Editor:

Who’s fighting crime?

Sep 12 2007

Editor:

Re: the victim of the recent home invasion is my neighbour. You could not meet a nicer man. Neither he, nor any other senior, deserves to be threatened by some reject coward who attacked and bound and gagged him.

This could be anyone’s mother or father. How would you like this to happen to them? Neighbours keep your doors locked at all times because, as far as I’m concerned, past city councils and this city council have destroyed and are continuing to destroy our neighbourhood by ignoring the drugs and prostitution problem and sticking homeless containment centres in our area – housing people from who knows where, with who knows what, with no regard for the safety of the residents in the area.

David Ramsay was a jerk and he is paying for it big time. But his family members are also victims who probably have tried to forgive and get on with their lives. Had the girls not been out hooking they would not have been picked up. What about all the other Johns driving around looking for prey who don’t get caught? If they do, they just go to John school – wow. When was the last sting? The Electoral Boundaries Commission rally – who cares? They also ignore our problem.

Remember, neighbours, which council members vote in favour of the Backpacker project.

Bertine Robertson

Prince George

Here is my response:

I just read the letter to the Editor from Bertine Johnson and was thoroughly
disgusted.  To describe David Ramsay as merely being a “jerk” and to compare
him with the average “john” is ludicrous.  Worse yet is to blame the victims
because “Had the girls not been out hooking they would not have been picked
up.”  How can anyone believe that a twelve year old girl is working the
streets because she wants to?  What little girl ever dreams of growing up to
be a prostitute?  Bertine Johnson demonstrates her ignorance even further
with the comment about John school.  Prince George doesn’t have a John
school.  Any attempts to initiate one have failed.

I live in the Ron Brent area, personally I am happy to see that the old
“Backstabber Motel” will be replaced with something that is a benefit to
society.  People who have shelter and a support network are less likely to
commit crime and more likely to start building a new life.  Perhaps Ms.
Robertson should try doing some volunteer work with organizations that deal
with the homeless, sex trade workers, and youth at risk.  She may find that
her views change when she comes down off that high horse.

Teresa Cavnaugh
Prince George

Writing my post about Ariana and her fairy today made me recall something a friend of mine sent to the circle mailing list years ago.  I went digging through my archives to find it.

Thoughts on The Fae..

as a child they were much more daring
or perhaps my vision was just much more clear.
Still though even in the later part of my lives summer,
I oft hear their laughter, sweet and true in the wake of clumsy foot steps.
Sweet breath on my neck and torrents of fallen leaves upon my head.
Tis my gardens some protect
Yet others find the cultivated land abhorent..
Tis my son they whisper tales to now, and blessed am I to hear him repeat
them…
Still, I beg them to watch over my bread in the rising, a sincere promise of
the first piece warm seems to help
Still they watch over my wine aging..And in the winters cold, lest I forget
them when the first bottle is opened, there is always one cork blown.
On the summers wind they remind me of the Mother, and help me to hold the
Father true in my heart..
The very life in them, the natures of the gods in flesh..Strong, wise,
playful, and sometimes capricious even cruel..
To be respected are the fae..Believed in and adored in the way that one does
children or the very old..But with caution
For they are, in my mind..The lives created by the first thoughts of the
Gods..So, much older than we and governed by a way of being alien to our own.

Just Wes rambling again.

Ariana came to me this afternoon with her little hands cupped together.  She told me that she had caught the toothfairy.  She carefully opened her hands and said, “see?” I am afraid that my eyes have gotten too old to see the fairy she was so proud of.  However, beeing a good Nana, I went to the cupboard and found a little cage that usually holds a candle for her to put her treasure in.  Over the course of the afternoon I found out that the toothfairy eats flowers, preferably purple ones.  Fortunately the catmint and chives are in bloom, so the toothfairy didn’t have to go hungry.  She carefully scooped some water from the pond into a cupped leaf for the fairy to have a drink.  After a couple of hours, when we were going back into the house, Ariana decided that it was time to let the toothfairy go.  She opened the top of the cage and carefully let her captive go. 

I wish my eyes weren’t so old. 

Life has seemed a little hectic lately.  Liz has been adapting to living with diabetes.  Ariana has been having problems with bladder infections.  She has a renal ultrasound at the end of the month. 

My garden is doing beautifully.  I do need to do a lot more weeding still, but first the weather needs to co-operate.  I have dug several new garden areas and edged them with concrete.  The bog is filling up nicely.  I told Andrew that at this rate we will need to enlarge the bog next year, just to accomodate plant growth. 

Today is my son’s 24th birthday.  Five days ago it was his sister’s 22nd birthday.  Where does the time go?  Ariana believes that all birthdays should be hers.  We are working on straightening her out.  In August/September a new grandchild will be born.  My nephew is hoping for a boy. 

Enough for now. 

The nurses at the hospital are calling my brother the Energizer Bunny.  He has suddenly started eating again.  His speech is still slurred but he is talking.  He actually took a walk around the pod with the therapist yesterday.   Mom thinks maybe he is trying to hold on till his first grandchild is born in September. 

My son, Barry,  was telling me last night that he ran into his father at a local bar the other day.  Gary was there with his current girlfriend.  Gary proceeds to tell his son, in front of the girlfriend, how “hot” I was when we got together 24 years ago, and that it was a mistake to let me “get away”.  Dena, the girlfriend, did not look terribly impressed.  This is the same woman, that a few years ago when her and Gary got together, told me that she hoped I didn’t mind she was dating my son’s father.   I knew her vaguely from doing tech support when she was a customer of the ISP I worked for.  Him, I dumped when I was three months pregnant.   He  tried to hook up yet again after seeing me  in a nightclub when my son was six.  My response then was, “A lot of things changed in the last seven years Gary.  I lost 20 lbs, got contact lenses, developed taste…..”

He is such an idiot.   I don’t regret my son, but I do claim to have been young and foolish.

Shortly after I posted last night the hospital called asking for family to come back.  Apparently my brother had decided to get up and go to the bathroom by himself.  He fell and hit his head.  He now has a cut beside his right eye.  He had stopped breathing for a bit and the nurses weren’t sure he was going to make it.  They managed to get him back into bed and cleaned him up a bit.  When I got there they were just switching rooms with another patient so that Paul could have a room to himself.  He has retreated further into himself.  When I told him that I was there and that Mom was coming he said, “Why?”.  Then he looked at his hand where he was holding him fingers in a “v” and said, “I lost my smoke.”  Then he was looking for his lighter, because apparently he found his “smoke”.  He talks about needing to go home to take his meds and that Tanis, his friend, is expecting him to stop by shortly.   Surprisingly when asked if he was hungry he said he was and ate a couple of digestive cookies.  That is the first food he has eaten in a couple of days.   We are trying to keep family with him at all times now.   If we don’t they are going to have to tie him to his bed to prevent him from getting up on his own.   That is something neither us or the nurses want to do to him.   Unfortunately the hospital is gridlocked at the moment.  IMU is full beyond capacity.  They have curtained of the lounges to put patients in them and there are usually at least a couple of beds in the hall.  

Went up to see Paul tonight.  I don’t think we are going to have to worry about homecare.  He is slowly but surely slipping away.  He is cold to the touch now and is having hallucinations.  His blood pressure is so low it is hard to read. He slips in and out,   some times aware of what is going on and sometimes just staring at something only he can see.  Karen, the mother of three of Paul’s children, had a grief counsellor friend of hers come up to talk to Paul and some of the family.  The counsellor had mentioned to Mom that some people prefer to be alone when their time is close.   At 9:00 pm Mom asked Paul if he wanted everybody to leave and let him rest.  He said yes.  As we left the nurse asked if they had a contact number for Mom.  They’ve never asked that before. 

At my mother’s request I prepared a “rite of release” for her to do for my brother.  She will be doing that tonight.

I was sitting here reading stuff and noticed that my glasses felt funny on my face.  Won’t stay up where they are supposed to.  Went and looked in the mirror and saw that although the swelling in my forehead has gone down I have oriental looking folds on my eyes.  It seems that fluid from my forehead has drained down into my eye sockets.  It feels very strange. 

Went for my diagnostic mammogram yesterday morning.  It was clear, the lump is scar tissue from the previous lumpectomy.

Came home and started making poutine for Ariana.   I was standing in the kitchen near the hallway when she asked me to pick her up.  I did and quite promptley got a really bad bout of vertigo.  I started to fall and did my best to protect her, which meant I couldn’t break my own fall.  I went head first into the wall between the closet and doorway to the livingroom.  I now have six stitches in my forehead running from the hairline down towards my eyebrow.   The gash  is about just under 2 inches long.   I also have a minor concussion and whiplash.  

Today my forehead is quite swollen and painful.  Nan says I have a bit of a hematoma forming and need to keep icing it.  Ariana does not like the looks of it at all and won’t come near me unless it is covered.  Poor baby was terrified after it happened.

Paul is a bit better.  We are trying to arrange home support for when he finally gets out of the hospital.   He can’t remember how much insulin to take and can’t be left alone any more.