This is one of those weeks when it might be better if I did not talk to you. Why? Too much going on in this world of ours. I feel just ever so fragmented in the thought process department.
I have decided to carry on regardless. It all started this morning as I was heartsick about the tragedy in Nova Scotia. I could not get my mind around the horror and the senselessness. To add to my sadness was a scene in front of a police station where a man in a kilt played “Amazing Grace” on bagpipes. Embraced by the beauty of the song was a makeshift memorial for the RCMP officer Heidi Stevenson. Heartbreaking I tell you, heartbreaking.
I needed to collect my senses so I went to my normal go-to for easing a stressful moment. Walk the dogs. We were out on the country road when a man came along with a big dog on the end of a worn rope. When my dogs moved away I should have known that it was about to become a situation. We talked about the weather and the flocks of cranes. The man told me he has immunity to the COVID-19 virus. It is because he had the flu vaccine, he said. I wanted to tell him the coronavirus is not the flu virus.
Next he mentioned the murders in Nova Scotia. One good thing he said about it was that he didn’t have to hear anymore about the virus. “Sure does tell us why we need guns.” I looked at the dog with the foaming slobber dripping to the ground and knew this was time for me to walk away.
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As I walked along with my dogs the man called after me” Is there something wrong with your dog.” I assume he meant the lab who can barely walk and has a big tumour on his hip. I called back “He looks OK to me.”
I know many of you feel the pain for those who are suffering from the virus and for sure we all are so saddened my the dreadful massacre in Nova Scotia. When the faces of the murdered come on the TV, listen to their life story, look at the faces and acknowledge their existence.
I feel better having talked to you about my day.
On that note I have to share this poem sent to me by a good friend.
Senility Poem:
Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway; the good fortune to run into the ones I do; and the eyesight to tell the difference.
You can call 250-846-5095 or just send along an email to mallory@bulkley.net
editor@interior-news.com
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