April...

 April 2, 2025

It’s already April! Seriously, I have no idea how it is that time seems to go faster and faster the older I get. But while we are now officially out of that six month stretch of time known as winter (per the Ashbury family’s lore a full six months, October to March inclusive), it’s not yet at all anything like what I would call spring.

In my neck of the woods, we’re in a kind of weather purgatory of cold and damp, and I am not a fan.

But I am very fortunate, and aware of that fact. At my age I don’t have to go anywhere I don’t want to go, and I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do and…. yeah, who am I kidding?

While my life is truly my own, I’m too used to adulting, to doing what needs done, day by day, to really boast any true sense of freedom. Or maybe that’s not stated quite correctly. I can choose the other, but so far, I haven’t. And I really do hope that I won’t.

I could miss appointments made, if I wanted to. But I’m too much my mother’s daughter to do that. I could just walk past the tiny messes that seem to be everywhere in this house. But I’m too well trained in responsibility to do that.

I could just sit in my recliner each day and scroll through a gazillion television shows and other options (there’s got to be something good in there somewhere) except my mind is too used to being busy. And let’s face it, too much of what is available on television or on streaming platforms these days is just mind numbing.

The way I see it, time is taking the edge off my thinking processes enough as it is; I don’t want to help that along, period. I already feel as if I’m on a slippery mental slope that’s about to get steeper.

I’m currently attempting to balance the two concepts of staying informed and staying sane, and friends, let me tell you here and now, that’s not easy.  Too much of what is happening in the world these days can certainly induce ire. Too much ire is not good for my heart and health, or anyone else’s for that matter.

I’m not certain when it became okay for folks to talk trash, to threaten others, to play fast and loose with the concepts of respect and decency. I don’t know when it became okay to profess that there is no truth, and that the loudest and the most obnoxious is also the most trustworthy. I don’t know how or why that all has happened, but I wish it would stop.

I’m reduced to that old saying, “back in my day”. Because back in my day if I had said some of the things that are being said by so-called leaders these days, I could have expected to receive a cuff on my ear followed by a “don’t be so damn stupid.”.

As I let my attention drift to the window behind my monitor, I open myself to what is and look beyond what I can see. Icy rain is falling, and the sky is a moody gray. It looks cold, and I shiver in advance of having to go out into that weather before too long.

And I remind myself that way up there, above the cloud cover and the rain, the sky is blue and the sun shines. It’s a beautiful April day that just happens to be hampered at the moment by clouds and cold and wet.

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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

Not going to worry overmuch....

 March 26, 2025

Every week, sometimes on Tuesday but more and more lately on Wednesday, I settle myself down at my keyboard to write my weekly essay. I ensure I have water, and a blanket for my legs, and that I’m positioned just right in my chair. But what I never have, as I set out to write Wednesday’s Words, is any idea of what it is I’m going to give you.

You could ask one hundred writers where they find the inspiration for their words, and you will likely get one hundred different answers. Mine isn’t perhaps the most unique, but it’s true: I don’t know where it comes from, I just know when its arrived.

This morning, as I was getting ready to get to it, I took a rare not-end-of day trip to the land of YouTube. Fortunately, there were no rabbit holes in my path, but my mind did wander, which is S.O.P. (standard operating procedure) for me.

And I was thinking how odd our world is. It’s like we’re living in a two-story mega building, in a way. One floor is given to those who have agendas with varying twists and turns and machinations thrown in for good measure. They have plans, intricate plans, based mostly on their own egos—their own sense of self.  And the other floor is just regular folks living their everyday lives. They get up, go to work, come home, and do whatever. They have plans, too, but not ones that are egocentric. They plan to just be. They plan to get together with friends, go clubbing, catch a game on the television, or just sit quietly and listen to music.

On the one floor there are poseurs who don’t realize that they are; bullies who believe they’re in charge and rightfully so; and scavengers who only want to get as much as they can as fast as they can because they can.

On the other floor there are people who have dreams, and aspirations, and goals—and not all just for themselves. They look for ways to share their time, and when someone needs a hand, they give it without consideration or expectation of gain in return for themselves.

Each floor has its own way of doing things, and each floor operates completely independent of the other.

The one floor—the one with the movers and the shakers and the wanna-be king makers—isn’t overly crowded, but it’s crowded enough. And they understand, you see, that there are folks living presumably beneath them, but because they are, in their minds “beneath them”, and they don’t think much beyond that somewhat subjective fact. After all, they can’t be much of anything, they say, because if they were they’d be “up here” instead of “down there”.

The other floor, folks just want to live their lives day to day, just want to be and to see and yes, to love. They are content for the most part to let that other floor do what they want to do where they are. They don’t let that floor get to them, because why would they?

After that image had fully taken root in my mind, I begin to think, as I often do, “what if”?

What if life really is 95% perception?

Facts are facts, but if folks don’t accept the facts, what happens then?

Do you see the trouble I get myself into when I spend too much time thinking?

It all comes down to a choice. What’s more important in life—the fact that you’re not rich, or your ability to find contentment regardless of that fact?

Perception is important because it acknowledges fact and then chooses how to interpret that fact.

This is important. Because another fact is there are more people on the one floor than there are on the other; and those others—the movers and the shakers and the wanna-be king makers—hold a second serious disadvantage aside from being outnumbered.

Their inability either to trust or to be trustworthy works directly against every other single advantage that they think they have.

So, I’m not going to worry overmuch. I figure that things will change for the better when enough people get to the point where they’ve simply had enough.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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

Ah, spring...

 March 19, 2025

Over the course of the last week, the snow has melted away. I don’t know if I can tell you just how happy I am about this fact. On top of that, today has dawned sunny and warm. I’ve already checked the forecast. It promises the temperature will rise above 65 by this afternoon. And while Spring will not officially arrive until 5:01am tomorrow morning, as noted on the calendar, I feel it’s safe to announce that Spring has indeed sprung.

Now, we still may get snow between today and the end of May. It’s happened more times in the past than I can recall. But that, of course will be a spring snow and not a winter one. And yes, also of course, it’s all a matter of one’s perspective—or one’s attitude. A great deal of how we interpret things in life really is.

The weather will, according to this same forecast, begin to turn chilly after today—who couldn’t have guessed that? But I will celebrate the moments while they are here and take time to appreciate the warmth of sun and air while it lasts.

I’ve mentioned in the past that ours is a corner property. We have a back door, accessed by the cross street, which is in fact on a hill that rises from east to west, and on the south side of our house. We have an enclosed back yard, and therefore a gate via which to enter and exit the yard. In the good weather (read: weather without mounds of snow or frozen gates) we use that back gate to cart our trash to the street for our weekly trash pick-up. It’s a straight, no-stairs, not very long trek.

A side note: we also use this gate to bring in our groceries in “good” weather. We have a garden cart that David fetches to the road. I pull the car over on that hill—emergency flashers blinking—and he can easily put the groceries from car to cart, then pull that cart to the back door. Yes, there’s one step down into the kitchen, but otherwise this is a much easier way to cart our shopping in.

However, during the times when the gate is frozen shut, we have to keep our garbage cans and recycle containers on our front porch (and lug groceries by hand up the steps to the porch). The good news is the porch is covered, and the bins are generally free from having to be dug out at any given time.

The bad news is that they are on my front porch for all the world to see. I truly hate that, as I hate little else in this life.

But as of last night, when I kind of insisted, the porch is now clear of such blight. I will tell you that my porch is nothing much to look at. But there are chairs there for folks to sit on and watch the street. Further into spring, there will be plenty of plants as well. I generally have two “window boxes” of plants that hang from the railing; and four potted, profusely flowering plants that hang along the top of the porch. We also have nice, serviceable cushions to pad the three metal-framed chairs as well as a small table in between two of them to allow for a place for coffee mugs to rest.

My front porch is certainly not fancy, but it is my front porch and a lovely place to sit and think when the mood strikes.

David gets the most use of the porch, as he loves being outside. He spent the last forty years of his working life in a job that was outside year-round. I will sit out on the porch from time to time, but because of my arthritis I have to be aware of the breeze. David doesn’t have that problem. He’ll be sitting out even when I think it’s far too chilly to do so.

He’s been out there quite a bit since the snow left, and I can tell you that his ability to do so has brightened his mood considerably.

Soon, the grass and the plants will awaken to this new spring and its new possibilities. We anticipate the green that will become a part of the view out our windows and from our porches. But in this moment, the sense that everything is fresh and new and waiting is the essence of the promise of spring.

And in this moment, we can sigh that the worst of the winter of 2024-2025 is behind us. The best really is yet to come.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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

About that...

 March 12, 2025

I would like to make one thing perfectly clear. Canadians have always been patriotic.

We have always held a great love for and pride in our country. We have always taken a full-hearted yet quiet pride in the accomplishments of our fellow citizens. Some of them are known world-wide. Michael J. Fox; Celine Dion; Michael Bublé; Ryan Reynolds; and the co-discoverer of Insulin, Dr. Frederick Banting, to name the ones that come to mind.

We have always been the first to reach out when there has been a sudden need to be filled, wherever that need arises around the world—or in our own country. During the recent, many and varied natural disasters that have taken place south of the 49^th, Canadians have given aid in record amounts. One need only check with the Canadian Red Cross to know that is so.

Americans have always known that if they are somewhere overseas, and there is no American Embassy at hand, they can go to the Canadian Embassy or Consulate and find the help they need.

In 1979, when Americans were being held hostage in the Embassy in Tehran, the Canadian ambassador sheltered six American diplomats and got them free of that very volatile situation, and back home safely. That ambassador’s name was Ken Taylor, and President Ronald Reagan awarded him the Congressional Gold Medal for his heroism.

More than twenty years later, at another moment of crisis for America, when the airways were closed down, one small town in Newfoundland said yes and accepted 38 planes on 9/11, carrying 6,579 people. That act doubled the size of the town of Gander. Quick shelters were provided to house those seeking it, yes, but also Canadians opened their own homes to those stranded during a perilous time. And that didn’t just happen in Gander, but in other provinces throughout the country, too. In total, over 250 flights carrying approximately 45,000 people found refuge here in Canada for that heartbreaking week.

And—this is important—no one, absolutely no one charged a penny for the above services. And when many tried to give money to those who had offered a safe harbor, meals and clothing, the answer was no. Not just no, but said with confidence “no, you’d have done the same.”

We are patriots and we are humanitarians, and we are quick to help where we can.

Our patriotism runs deep. We don’t need fireworks or parades, or grand shows, (though we have them on our nation’s birthday, Canada Day) to prove our mettle in this area. For Canadians, pride of country is as natural and as pure and as instinctive as is breathing.

And yes, it’s true, we are polite. And yes, we are and have always been good friends with our neighbors to the south. Many individual Canadians not only have very close American friends, but members of their own families. In fact, I have several very good friends who live in such diverse locations as Utah, Pennsylvania, Florida, and Texas.

But no, we are not pushovers. And we don’t, to a person, care very much for bullies. Those of us who are Christian don’t wave our Bibles; we live by them. We not only know the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves, we practice it.

And we don’t much like the prattle that has been directed our way lately by the current prominent voices in the U.S.

We’re an intelligent people. We don’t hold individuals responsible for the sins of others. If you’re coming to Canada for vacation, you’ll be welcome here. We don’t play “gotcha” games.

I know a lot of you, my dear American friends, have been very angry with the behavior of your loudest spokespeople in recent weeks. We know you don’t agree with what is being done or said. And we know that you’re concerned that we might be all alone in the world now that your government seems to be turning you away from us.

But don’t you worry. We are a forgiving people, a people who believe in redemption and second chances. When the time is right, we’ll do what we can to mend the damage that has been done to our relationship. It may take time—after all, we learned when we were children that broken trust takes time to mend. But I assure you it can be mended.

And in the meantime, we do have other friends. We’re liked in Europe and Asia, and my goodness! We are a member of the Commonwealth of Nations—an organization of 56 independent countries. You may have heard of it. And guess what? Our King is the head of it.

So please, dear friends, do what you can to fix things in your back yard. We wish you the best, and we have faith that before long you will be back to your former charming and reasonable selves.

As for us, we’re going to be just fine. And in the words of the late, great Gordie Howe, elbows up.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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

It's March!

 March 5, 2025

Welcome to March 2025!

In last week’s essay, I let you know I was looking forward to finally being able to leave my house after a couple of weeks of being house-bound due to copious amounts of and poorly placed piles of snow on ice.

We were successful in our first trip out to the grocery store, and David was certainly happy to get out and have lunch. We were able to get a few of the essentials we were running low on, and some of them were even on sale. We couldn’t get everything we needed, however, because we simply can’t get that much up the front stairs and into the house on our own. But that was all right, because our daughter was picking up her grandchildren to come for the weekend a few days later, on Saturday. She would have two strong young people to help her bring in the extra items we needed.

You may also recall that, according to Ashbury family tradition, winter each year runs from October to March, inclusive. Therefore, this current cold and snowy season will end in 26 days. Not that I’m counting, or anything. I’m just anal.

Our temperature is slated to hit 50 degrees Fahrenheit today. I’m very happy to hear it, but I’m not super excited about it. Because with this temperature increase comes rain. So much rain, in fact, that Environment Canada has issued a flash flood warning. Yes, rain melts snow. No question. But then all that water has no place to go because the ground is frozen—even more frozen than usual for this time of year.

And by more frozen, I mean that the freeze is deeper into the ground than it has been for the last few years.

And then, of course, after being teased by the spring-like warmth of today, and lots of rain with it, we go back right to below freezing temperatures beginning tomorrow, for at least a week. Maybe even longer.

The good news about that is that while it’s not time yet to schedule our annual spring-cleaning extravaganza, that day is on the horizon, and we’ll likely begin to plan for it.

The bad news? Lots of rain (water) melting lots of snow (more water) is about to not seep into the ground and to therefore freeze solid. For those of us who do have institutional memory of these kinds of situations, we know to do certain things. One must go out and rescue, for example, things like garbage pails our outdoor grills that may be or about to be in standing water. They need to be moved to someplace less subject to being encased in three inches of ice. Because if they’re left where they are, one likely won’t be able to move them until full-on spring.

Fun times. Another good thing is that having the air warmer today means not tempting frostbite while you go out and do what you can to prevent damage to household items.

This year, so far, we’ve given no thought to the upcoming planting season. There are discussions to be had, for certain. And we’ll get to them by and by.

But we did receive notice that this upcoming “construction” season, our street is slated to receive a new water main, and then the road itself will be replaced. There was a “drop in” meeting held this past Monday at the nearest community center. Our daughter and I went, and it was an interesting and informative evening.

We learned at that, while right now there is a sidewalk on both sides of our street, after this project is complete, there will no longer be a sidewalk on our side of it.

During the construction period, I will not be able to park my vehicle in front of my house. But since I have an accessible parking permit, arrangements can be made. Ours is a corner property. We’ve suggested that there’s enough room for us to park on our side lawn, just slightly infringing on the edge of the roadway—of the east-west oriented cross street.

Making application to do so now will begin the process by which the by-law department can allow an exception, which will be a great help to me. It would be difficult for me to stay mobile if I have to walk a block or more to get from house to car. I’ll shortly be writing a letter to get that process under way.

I have something to do that is new and different, and that, to me, is a bonus.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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

Going out...

 February 26, 2025

The computer monitor that I’ve been using for the past several years is the largest monitor I have ever owned. The bottom edge measures about 26 inches across, and the side edge about 16 inches high. Additionally, the monitor is slightly concave. I sit about a foot and a half back from it, and it stands on my desk in front of my full-sized office window. There are about three inches between the bottom edge of the monitor and my desk, which allows me, when I bend over slightly, to see a tiny little sliver of about two inches through that window to the outside world. Of course, there is a lot of window above the monitor, but that just lets me see the sky and a few of the branches of our walnut tree—through the necessary springtime sunscreen of a bamboo curtain.

I tell you all this because yesterday for the first time in about two and a half weeks enough snow had melted from the bottom of the window that I could in fact see the roof of my car and the lower part of the post that holds the “no parking” sign on the other side of our street.

And I am very hopeful that later today I will finally be able to leave my house, go down the porch steps, to the walkway, then go from the walkway down the sidewalk to the neighbor’s driveway so I can get onto the street and walk to my car. Yes, I have been housebound since February 7^th. Although, to be honest, on the Monday of that week I couldn’t get out and about either. Here is where I thank the driver of the snowplow on that day for loading up our sidewalk. I really shouldn’t complain. They’re usually very careful not to do that.

This is the first winter ever where I have been restricted in my movements for more than a couple of days. Oh, there has been the odd day when I haven’t wanted to venture out in recent years past due to the wind, the cold or the precipitation. But this is the first time when I really couldn’t. We ended up with a lot of ice on our steps, and then snow on top of the ice, to the extent that the steps down from the porch were dicey to use the entire time. And I will admit that since my daughter was very worried that I would fall and hurt myself, I agreed to stay put.

I am sure that you can imagine that at this point, I’m more than a little antsy to just get out.

Fortunately, during this weeks-long confinement, we’ve not been without anything. Our daughter has still gone to work on all but that first really bad snowfall day. And once out, she is able to stop to get whatever we might be running low on, or just plain want, on her way home. I usually try not to ask her to do this, because I am aware that she works hard and by the end of her day she’s tired and just wants to get home. Under normal circumstances, I go out during the day to whichever local store to get whatever we want/need, so she doesn’t have to.

Of course, these last weeks have not been normal. And I will confess that it may have been a tad passive aggressive on my part to notify her of several more things we have been running out of over the last few days. But honestly, when I can’t get out to get those few items myself, someone else has to do it, and unfortunately for her, that’s her.

Yesterday, quite a bit of the snow that we received during those two huge stormy days melted. Our daughter has done a good job of driving back and forth over the patch of road at the curb where we park—running the snow that had been left there down, as it were, for ease of movement.

We’re heading out, David and I, in a half hour or so. We’ll go to one of our two grocery stores here in town—the one we used to use all the time before the prices soared. We have a small list, because in winter, we can’t use our grocery wagon, so what we buy we carry up the steps and into the house. And since we’re going to be out anyway, we’ll make a stop on the way home at his favorite eatery for lunch.

And be grateful to finally have a change of scenery.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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

Holy snow!

 February 19, 2025

Over the last several days, we have received over eighteen inches of snow. In our lower back yard, which is enclosed for the dogs, we have a drift that is more than two feet in height.

David and I were trying to remember the last time we had this much snow at one time. He’s 72 and I’m 70, and our memories aren’t as reliant as once they were. So we asked our daughter who’s only 46—and she can’t remember, either.

But we all know that it was more than a few years ago. Hell, the last two years didn’t even feel like real winters to us at all.

That being said, we believe in contingency plans. We have a logistical operational imperative here, with relation to possible accumulated snowfall. It takes some explanation, so here goes.

Our street isn’t all that wide. Cars can pass each other going in opposite directions, in the summer, with about a couple of inches to spare. As long as no one is parked at the curb on either side of the street.

Now, some time ago, the town changed our street from parking on each side alternatively, changing on the first day and the sixteenth day of the month, to parking only on one side the entire time. Luckily, that side is the same side of the street as our house.

Additionally, ours is a corner property, on the northwest corner of an intersection. And the cross street includes a steep hill on the west side. That means that cross street, with that hill, is one of the first areas in our town to be plowed and salted after a snowfall. And our imperative is that as soon as that cross street has been plowed, we clean off our cars and move them there. Then, we await the plowing of our own street, and only after that is done, do we move our vehicles back to our street and in front of our house.

This has worked very well for us for the last several years.

Snow fell Saturday and Sunday, and it was a miracle that we were able to get one grandson and one great-granddaughter here on Monday to help with the digging out of the cars. It took a while but finally they were moved to the cross street.

Yesterday afternoon, finally, our street was sufficiently plowed, and we were able to move our cars back.

The “we” in that last sentence is what is sometimes referred to, in our family as “the royal we”. The history of this is that when my mother would tell me that “today, we’re going to____ (fill in the blank)”, what she really meant was that I was going to do whatever work was required while she looked on.

 Yes, it was our daughter who moved the vehicles, because while the street has been plowed—somewhat—the walkway and the steps that lead up from the walkway to the porch, not to mention the curb itself are all buried under an incredible combination of snow and ice.

And we need the steps and walkway cleared, as swell as a sport on the curb shoveled out, if we are to leave our house and get into our car.

My daughter has informed us that my husband and I can consider ourselves housebound for a few more days yet.

We happen to agree with that opinion. We need to get our grandson over to clean off the walkway and the steps, get rid of snow and ice there. Then he has to shovel out not just the curb but the road itself a bit more as the plow didn’t do that good of a job and there is too much of the white stuff to drive into and away from the curb comfortably.

But first we have to wait until after tomorrow, because the forecast calls for more snow on Thursday, and who knows how much more white stuff that will really be?

Because I like to end on a positive note, there’s this: in days past, it used to be me who had to figure out all the logistics and put plans into motion. This usually included some shovel wielding by myself and my husband, too.

I am pleased to report that is no longer the case. I no longer have to shoulder the planning and the worry. I can just sit back and wait for things to be done.

 

Love,

Morgan

http://www.morganashbury.com

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