Friday, March 10, 2017

The miracle of Miracle Whip...

When you realize your mom may be trying to kill you. On her birthday. And may I quote:

"Oh, Janita! Quit being so says February. That was just last month."

Uhm, it's the 2016 part that's rather alarming. And the fact that it's Miracle Whip, a rather delicate condiment even prior to expiry date.


Thursday, March 9, 2017

Count your blessings...

This fervent prayer overheard tonight in a gas station, deep in the heart of Manitoba, after a close-call finding a pit stop. Sweat beading over his relieved face, and I quote:

"Thank you ass for holding in my shit. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen."

My 5-year old reminded me that there is ALWAYS something to be grateful for.

#ProudMama #ThatWasClose #CountYourBlessings

Thursday, March 2, 2017

Sometimes you have to think with your heart...

To those people who say we don't have room for those in need, that we can't possibly take in those who have crossed a country to seek refuge at our border, I ask for a moment that you don't apply logic alone to this predicament. Yes, your intelligence can help you draw the conclusion that we don't have room, our economy simply cannot handle it, they will take our jobs, our future, they are jumping the queue, not playing by the rules, changing the landscape of this great country. Guess what? Our families all came from different countries, we've already changed the landscape, bringing a wealth of cultures and backgrounds and traditions, making this the great country that it is. We figured this out before, and we can figure it out again. And you know what that gave us? A heart. A giant. fucking. heart. And we need to let that guide our thoughts and actions, now more than ever. Having a hard time imagining what it would be like to walk in their shoes? Try this. Next time it hits minus 30, pack your most treasured possessions in a duffel bag - take your time as it's all you'll take with you - dress in your warmest clothes not fit for the weather, hold your little ones close to your chest, and start walking. Walk for miles and keep going. Walk through your hunger, through their crying, walk with what remains of your dignity, keep walking when your feet start to bleed, and then keep walking some more when you can't feel them anymore. Keep walking because you know it's better than going back to a place where your life is not valued. Walk a hundred miles knowing that parts of your body will need to be amputated, but walk knowing that it's better than the alternative. Walk while keeping your children warmer than you so it's you that has to lose a limb, not them. Then, when you have arrived and you are done walking, fall in a heap. And then start to pray - to whomever or whatever you believe in - that the people at the end of your journey are a people that don't just think with their heads. For your fate now rests in their collective hands. For this reason, you pray they are a people who also believe in thinking with their hearts.

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