Times change...

 October 25, 2023

The story of this family and the town that we have claimed as our own, this town we moved to in 1989, is to a large extent the story of my beloved’s relationship with its eateries.

Or more specifically, those places in town that serve breakfast—or the anytime snack of French fries with gravy. My husband has become quite fond of going out for breakfast, or for fries and gravy. It really is one of his favorite things to do now that he’s retired.

When we first arrived here after living all but our first year of marriage out in rural environs, we thought that our lifestyle was about to change. We envisioned weekly trips down to the bakery, weekend strolls along the “main drag” – in those days this town’s down-town business district was relegated for the most part to a section of the main street that was equivalent of two blocks long. We also had a “plaza’ at the north end of town that featured a restaurant, the name of which I forget, and a second grocery store, in addition to the IGA that was located smack in the middle of downtown.

That change in our lifestyle never truly materialized, though. It turned out that propinquity had not been the missing ingredient to our previous lives lived in near isolation. It took us a couple of years more to decide that we were, at the heart of it all, natural hermits. We’d drive to work and back each day—a round trip of some distance—and then once home, we wanted to remain so until it was time to head to work again.

Where we had first settled in this town was in a older neighborhood just to the north of our downtown core. Then we had a house fire and ended up renting a house on the south side of the town, a block from the Catholic church.  We later bought that house and it’s where we have lived ever since.

From here, if one drives north about a half a mile, the road will curve on a downward slope for a total of about a thirty-to-forty-foot drop in elevation, and then curves to the right. And as you make that curve, bam, the entire business section of downtown is laid out in front of you on both sides of the main street. Yes, the business district is in the valley, the lowest part of town. Diagonal parking is allowed so one can pick a spot close to one’s destination, although there is also a parking lot located behind the businesses on the west side of the street.

Today our little town is not so little anymore and quite a bit different from our early days here.

The town has expanded to the north, beyond that plaza that now holds a couple of take-out restaurants, an Ontario government public office, and a hardware/tire store. The new grocery that had been built in that new plaza has since been relocated across the street in a new, new specially constructed site and is about twice the size it used to be. And beyond those businesses, new housing has been constructed, as well as a couple of small sized “strip malls” each containing fast food restaurants.

To the south west, there has been new home construction as well, along with four—count ‘em, four—new roundabouts and a very large commercial area featuring take out restaurants, eat in restaurants, the previously located in downtown but now new and improved and bigger hardware store—and a store that sells cannabis products.

Change appears to be a constant now here in our not-so-small town. If we only stay home and only sit out on our front porch, we can convince ourselves that this is still our same small town. Well, except for the fact that where the Catholic school used to be in the next block from our house is now a residence for sensory-deprived folk.

But we don’t stay home. David will often head off on his scooter. He may go to the newest grocery store in town, located about a half mile to the east. In that general area, too, is the new “Health Hub”, a wonderful new building that houses our doctor’s office, as well as the community lab and all sorts of different medical-related offices.

That was a good change, meaning our doctor’s office was now closer. But some change is hard to take.

A few weeks ago, my beloved made his way to the one take-out place in the middle of our downtown for his regular infusion of fries and gravy, only to learn that was the last week the business was going to be in operation.

And then the worst happened, something was only noticed yesterday, and friends, it was a hard one for him.

He had a medical appointment with a doctor who is not in the new health hub but is located in an older building situated in the valley which holds our business section. It was Tuesday, and his appointment was at 10:00am. He planned to head for breakfast right afterwards.

I was in the living room when he returned. I heard him making noise in the kitchen, so I went out to see how his appointment had gone.  He was reaching into the cupboard and brought out a small frying pan, which he set on the stove. I asked him what he was doing, and he informed me, with visible sadness, that he was going to fry himself some eggs because, apparently, there was nowhere anymore to buy breakfast at 11 a.m. on a Tuesday.

I asked him why he thought that was? It seemed unfathomable to me. And my husband said something that was so profound, it reminded me that he really did know how to think and think well.

He said, and I quote, “because this is a yuppy town, now. It’s not a farm town anymore.”

That truly does feel like the definitive statement on the differences between our town, then and now. His statement says so much more than just the lack of an early week breakfast place.

I really couldn’t have said it better myself.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

We all have a role to play...

 October 18, 2023

There’s that old saying that when times get tough, the tough get going. Like most “old sayings” there is truth held within those words. But they are of little comfort in times such as the one we’re living in, when the news that is assaulting us from the world is so very grim.

It can feel, at times, as if humanity has lost its way. Believe me when I say that is not something that I want to feel.

There is evil in this world of ours. One cannot claim that there is goodness if one doesn’t also acknowledge evil. And while there has always been evil, just lately evil appears to be getting more press. It’s no longer content to live in the shadows and under rocks. And as evil becomes more visible, it seems to grow exponentially. Those who would hesitate to show their true colors become emboldened by persons of note who appear to be able to indulge in evil-doing with impunity.

The ongoing and growing evidence of evil always breeds more. Some look to a society that is supposed to stand for noble qualities, sees the chaos evil has wrought, and assume that society is too hobbled to be a force for good.

This is nothing less than clear evidence that the struggle between good and evil is a never-ending, ongoing struggle. The mistake that we must not make, however, as we live our inconspicuous lives, day to day, is thinking that this battle is supposed to be waged by others.

We all have a role to play on the stage of life. This stage where from time-to-time events that are bigger than all of us are playing out. This stage upon which at time the battle is fierce and with far-reaching consequences.

If evil begets more evil, then surely kindness begets more kindness. And kindness, by its very nature of positivity, of uplifting and empowering and sheer goodness is stronger than evil. But it needs every single one of us to do our part.

We need to be kind, to others and to ourselves. In our actions and in our thoughts. We need to measure our responses to any given situation and, rather than let uninformed assumptions take over, we need to wait for the actual facts. Truth will emerge and we must be ready to receive it.

One can acknowledge that evil is a strong and prevalent force in today’s world while still holding fast to kindness, charity and faith. Even this word program I’m using is a case in point. When I put my cursor on the word “kindness” and right-click, this program tells me the synonyms for that word. The first one it showed was “charity” but the second one was “humanity.”

Friends, we can do our part by simply hanging on to our humanity day by day by day. Good and positive thoughts, good and positive actions—they matter. Choose to await the truth rather than jumping to conclusions. Choose to offer a hand up rather than a push down. Choose to reaffirm, in your thoughts, the principles to which you adhere and remind yourself to do just that.

Of course, while one should remain informed of what’s going on, one must not take in an overabundance of negativity. For that reason, try not to watch so much news. Your television has an off button. Do not be afraid to use it.

Take time to sit, and relax, and see if you can locate a kernel of peace within you. That kernel needs cultivating as surely as any other good seed does.

I do believe in the power of positive thinking—and that more of us need to adopt that belief.

Friends, the world is counting on us!

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

Fallen leaves and slaughter...

 October 11, 2023

Well, the temperature sure has dropped over the last few days. There’s a bit of a bite to the wind, and the essence of dampness lingers. Our family Thanksgiving supper has been postponed until next Monday, and that’s neither unexpected nor a problem.

One does much better navigating through life if one is willing to be flexible.

This past weekend our grandson who lives here in town came over to help with bagging some of the leaves and the many, many walnuts that had to that point fallen to the ground. More than ten bags of yard debris await in the shed for next week, when the next scheduled yard-waste collection will be held.

But don’t worry, that’s not the end of our contributions to the autumn leaf collection this year, not by a longshot. You see, the very next day after our grandson’s hard work, more leaves and walnuts littered the sidewalk and the street (and yes, even my car). And we’re only talking about the walnut tree. The maple trees across the road are just beginning to turn color. I have no doubt that, as usual, when those maples begin to drop their leaves, the prevailing breezes will deposit a great many of them on our property, and thereby making them our responsibility.

That’s only fair, since we were able to enjoy the sight of those trees all summer, free of charge.

I predicate a great many of my actions and principles in this life on the concept of fairness. Fairness is not a law. It’s an ideal. Something that one may choose to aspire to if one chooses to.

As you all unlikely know by now, I’m not a fan of horror movies. Nor of horror realities. I’ve been sitting here trying to think of words that I could use to let you know my stance on the overseas events of this past Saturday.

I’m not sure I have any words that will add anything at all to any understanding of the situation. I do sense a similarity—I’ll dub it an attitudinal similarity—between the slaughter that began in Israel on Saturday October 7^th and the behavior in the U. S. House of Representatives on October 3^rd.

Getting rid of a Speaker of the House because you didn’t get all the candies you wanted has never been done in the history of the U.S. Congress. This was nothing less than the ousting of a speaker for self-serving, and in my opinion childish motives. Like a playground disagreement taken to Def Con status because of immature acting out by spoiled bullies who, when they don’t get their way, want to destroy the sandbox and the playground.  

That feels like the same base behavior that, taken to the worst extreme, resulted in the terrorist attack this past Saturday. A handful of undisciplined recalcitrant bullies whose entire existence is predicated on the destruction of an entire ethnic group decided to go on a killing spree.

I don’t know all the intricate ins and outs of the more recent history of the relationship between that hate group and the internationally recognized country it’s in. What I do know is that the murdering of men, women, and children—the decapitation of babies, may God have mercy—none of that has a place in civil, twenty-first century society.

There is no place on this earth for behavior like that. And, in my opinion, there should therefore be no place on this earth for those who so gleefully commit that kind of savagery.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

 

Thanksgiving....

 October 4, 2023

For us here in Canada, October is harvest time. Our Thanksgiving is in October – the second Monday of the month, which was designated as the standard in 1957.

Our Thanksgiving feasts are practically identical to any you would find in the United States. The original harvest festivals in our part of North America began with the indigenous peoples, who would celebrate the bounty of the harvest ahead of the winter to come.

For the last several years, we’ve celebrated our Thanksgiving with our second daughter, as she is by far the best Turkey chef in the family. She has told me that she’s given up on ever being able to cook a proper roast of beef. Seriously, those are her words and what I will say on the subject is that she has a very keen sense of self-awareness.

It’s a sore spot for her and one we don’t really talk about. If she has need of a roast of beef, she brings the raw beef here, so that I can prepare it for her. I’ve told her that she should not feel bad at all, because I will not even try to cook a turkey anymore—hers are really just that good.

We always have such a fun time at her house. After the meal has been consumed, and the debris cleared, there’s a game played that includes all of us, even the children. It’s a dice game called Left, Right, and Center. We generally play two rounds (each person starting out with 3 one-dollar coins), and it’s not uncommon for one of the great-grandchildren to win.

October is also associated with something else—at least in this household. October is considered to be the first month of winter. For those who may not know my reasoning for this declaration, I will explain.

Our weather can be iffy up here. The calendar will tell us the first day of winter is December 21^st. However, but that time we may already have suffered more than one snowstorm. Also, spring comes, according to the calendar, on March 21^st, but we’ve been known to have snowstorms after that date, too.

Therefore, years ago I decided that really, Canada has six months of winter, and those six months run October to March, inclusive. There is an upside to my silliness: if by chance we really don’t get a snowfall until, say, mid-December? Well, at that point, my “winter” is already nearly half over!

Here in the Ashbury household, our newest furry member—Smokey-kitty—is thriving. Smokey-kitty is not afraid of the dogs and loves to try to “play” with them all the time. However, he seems to know exactly how far he can push things with them before it’s time to stop.

He hasn’t quite found that same balance with the humans of the household. He thinks toes are for grabbing with his sharp little claws and then biting on with his sharp little teeth. Legs are for climbing—again, those sharp little claws. His favorite game with GG (that’s me) is “how many fingers can I nail at once?” He doesn’t like to be alone, but he has had to be a few times. Since he is litter trained, closing him in upstairs in our daughter’s apartment isn’t a problem. We’ve only done it a few times, most notably when we’ve gone out and there are no other people here.

Daughter doesn’t worry about how her dogs will behave in her absence, but I do worry about our two ruffians. Missy dog will tolerate the kitty if Jenny is down here, too. But otherwise, if it comes down on its own, Missy chases it and barks at it—causing Bear-Bear to try and run interference.

Of course, that means that Bear-Bear is barking, too.

But at least now I know that Bear-Bear is all bark, and truly likes the kitty. Yesterday, early evening, he was on my lap, snuggled into the furry blanket I had there, just a dog and his mom. No other dog dares to try to jump up to be with him, because he lets them know they’re not welcome. But then kitty jumped up, settled down very close to the dog, and fell asleep….and Bear-Bear seemed quite content in the moment and went to sleep, too.

As for peace and quiet? I do miss it at times. But please be assured that we don’t live in bedlam all day long. Animal sleep time is the only guaranteed time of silence in the entire day.

It’s not much, but it’s something, and it’s definitely something to be thankful for.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury