We attended the Free Thinkers luncheon again, recently. I was seated beside a new member, and was guessing his country of origin, based on his accent. Score one for the old guy. He was Russian. He studied English and German in University, and is qualified to be a professor in either, or both. So, that means he’s working as an assembler in a plastics plant, similar to the son’s. Always nice to know we’re putting the skills of our immigrants to the best use.
The reason I didn’t immediately place his accent was that he said he comes from Eastern Russia, Southern Siberia. He said he could look out his back door into China. I worked at the stamping shop with a young Russian who described his home town almost exactly the same way. At least he had got a job as an engineer. Thinker Russian said that he had decided to get rid of his TV, because there was nothing good on, and asked (told) his kids if they should sell the TV. Engineer Russian did the same thing – scary!
The young lad across the table asked him what the name of his town/city was, apparently because he had some knowledge of the area. He said he was from Kusnetzk. I asked him to repeat the pronunciation and translate to English if he could. I had heard correctly. My name in Russian is Kusnetzov, not merely Smith, but (son of a)Smith. He was from my namesake Russian city. Please, hold your applause. I’m only 50 miles from Smithville, here in Ontario.
The Mennonite lady was also there, although she’s actually an ex-Mennonite now. As close as the Brethren are, I asked what the rest of the congregation thought she was doing while they were at church. She says they’re waiting for her to repent of her errors and rejoin the flock.
She says they can go flock themselves! She ain’t going back. She’s moved to the big city with hot and cold running sin, and taken an apartment. I must remember to ask what she’s doing to support herself.
Mennonites are cheeeap, at least the local ones are. They could give my Scottish kin lessons. They’d shit themselves rather than use a pay toilet. The women make their own modest, ankle-length dresses with whatever fabric doesn’t sell, at the fabric shop. So here she is in a dress made of cloth which makes her look like an overstuffed sofa in a brothel, and a bright white pair of Avia sneakers poking out underneath. They’re all air-cells and sparklies, not really completing the modesty theme. She hasn’t completely left the entire mindset. She says she’ll continue to wear the dresses, because that’s what she’s used to.
When I was setting the daughter up in the park, for the Non-Violence Festival, I met a dog-walking club/group (?). As I was trying to carry her stuff from the car to the bridge to the island, I was cut off at the pass by 25/30 humans leading 15/20 dogs on the paved walkway around the lake. The dog leading the parade was a beautiful Golden Lab, with his own Golden Lab, a stuffed toy half as big as he was in his mouth. Later, I saw Mommy carrying, when his jaws got tired. One couple was walking two dogs. He had the leash for one, and that dog had the leash for the other in his mouth.
There was a young man who liked to view the lake and feed the birds. He had some muscular dystrophy, and got around in a power wheelchair, similar to the daughter’s. He liked to roll the chair near the water, and then sit on the raised bank and toss bread to the ducks and swans. The week before the Non-Violence, he had been found drowned. He was always happy, and had made future plans. It is thought that he exited the wheelchair and had a muscular spasm at the brink, fell in, and, of course, could not save himself, and no-one else noticed.
I have a couple of blogs “in the can”, which will require the wife to help me add pictures. We (She?) went through the digital photos on the computer, and set up a file for my posts. We realized that some of the shots we wanted were in a scruffy, ignored pile of “bricks and mortar” photos, from before the arrival of the digi-cam, and scanned them in. This impelled the wife to spend the best part of two days, organizing, labeling, and properly storing, envelopes of negatives and prints.
A short while ago, Ted @ SightsNBytes said that, when he started blogging, he intended to post recipes, and photos of his area, and trips. Then he discovered he had constructive writing ability, and has never got around to it. The wife asked if I was interested in using pictures of some of our trips, to post some photo-blogs. Since I still haven’t discovered much constructive writing ability, hopefully with Ted’s permission, and your acceptance, I thought that I’d start working some into the rotation.
The white-elephant LRT has to pass under the ring-road expressway. The region was just going to bore a hole through the embankment, and arch it with concrete. The Ontario Ministry of Transportation insists that they must use special soil stabilization methods. We haven’t moved one shovel of dirt yet, and the cost, for that one little section, has risen $2.5 million. I think we’re screwed.
I went with the son to the Bulk Barn store today. He spotted a new Aztec hot chocolate powder, with some hot pepper added, as the Aztecs used to drink chocolate. I think I’ll try some tonight as we watch our British crime-show. I think I’ll survive to post again soon.
I think that’s all the non-information I want to impart for today. You’ll see me (I fervently hope.) again in a couple of days.