The economy is bad these days and I'm looking for a full time job to supplement my part time income. I heard that there’s lots of “Joe Jobs” on construction sites and handyman jobs that pay several dollars more than minimum wage, which is what I earn with my part-time job working in fashion retail. Construction companies are “Equal Opportunity Employers” in Canada nowadays which means that they hire women to fill those shoes too! Actually, these companies don’t have a choice but to hire a token woman to fill a few jobs because the Human Rights Commission and Labour Board are savvy on the discrimination towards women. 

Here’s the catch, well, most of the time anyway … … you have to own your own tools to do the job. 

Ohhh, if I had a hammer … …

I remember when “Men were men and women were women” and women settled for being Barbies and Cinderellas. 

Weren’t they charming … … Oh, weren’t they just lovely!

Or, do you prefer Julie Andrews ... ...

 Here's the Walt Disney version ... ...

And, here’s the multicultural version. 

Is that Canada’s Governor General, Michaelle Jean, making a cameo appearance playing the Queen in this version?

The original story was written by

~ The Grimm Brothers ~

Of course, the Women's Rights movement all started with the Suffragettes. 
It hasn’t helped my mother-daughter relationship. What about yours?

... ... and forward we march with the Suffragettes on their quest for freedom and equality. 

Oh, it’s made all the difference … … don’t you think?

Well, I have a hammer in my tool belt now and I'm shopping for a pair of steel-toed construction boots, matching construction socks, two pairs of work pants, a few co-coordinating shirts and a lunch box and a thermos. Add to that a construction hat and a hair clip to put up my hair with that is comfortable to wear under the construction hat to keep my hair away from my face and out of my eyes because hair in your eyes is a safety hazard on the construction site. 

Parfum?

 I’ll settle for scented deodorant … …

~ The Canadian Government thinks so too! ~

This is a story where everything goes in reverse.

Yes, I owned one of those mansions once, about half the size of The Clampett Estate, but it had a similar floor plan, minus the cement pond. Well, those were the days I lived high on the hog, all things being relative, of course. Then one day the east wind blew, it blew and blew, and things changed and I started ‘A Movin on Down’. First a little further out into the suburbs into a smaller semi-detached home but still it was quite comfortable. Then tragedy hit again and I decided to try apartment living. First I purchased a condominium directly from the builder and since it would take at least two years to build, I decided to rent until I could move in. The apartment was quite spacious and it had a view to die for but it came with a price tag that I was willing to pay for just a few years until I could move into my own space in the sky.

My space in the sky turned out to be a shoebox compared to the rental but it’s in a beautiful neighborhood and a great location. Now I realize that even these expenses are a tad or two too much for me to pay every month on my income working in a temporary capacity and with a bleak outlook for employment. Will I never find a full time, permanent job? Yes, I will never.

So, now I’m thinking of 'Moving on Down' again. This time I’ll move into a less desirable part of the city and I’ll look for a house with a flat or perhaps something that I can rent out as a boarding house. I’ve realized that there are so many more like me out there heading for a shack in the woods but, before I take that step backwards, I’ll stay in the city and buy a 'Fixer Upper' but I don’t plan to ‘Fixer Up’. I can put up with the tacky wallpaper and leaking faucets and since most of those old homes have lead pipes it’s best to keep those faucets leaking. I’ll make sure every light bulb in the joint is fluorescent to do my part to help the environment. I’ll buy something on a very busy, major street, with a bus stop right in front of my door and no garage or driveway. If I go right into the inner city I’m sure I can find a townhouse within my budget, rent out the extra space and work for minimum wage, which is about what I earn now, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get by.

When that becomes too expensive I’ll move to the woods into a trailer park or (and this is a good one) I’ll live on the lake in a houseboat until the weather gets too cold and the lake freezes over and then I can rent a motel room for the really cold months. I’ll keep my options open and consider living out of a van (it may come to that).

It may just get to the point where I CAN afford to rent that shack in woods and when that happens I’ll be Granny’s age and you can bet those great-grandkids of mine will strike oil and start that climb back up into civilization, again.

Sounds like a plan? What do you think?

Well, as I sit here in this tiny room where I keep my computer and I’m writing this post and wondering if anyone out there even know that this blog exists, I’m having this thought ……….

Slide, Smileys, Webfetti, YouTubes, Zwinkys, images and links … I can do with them whatever I want to do! Just for the fun of it! Oh, what a hobby I have!

Why can’t I find a good cause to support and do something for the good of mankind? The way I see it, I do!

Shortly after my parents died and I received my inheritance, a small token of thanks for all those years of being a dedicated and loyal child, I had another awakening. I realized that, considering how long people have been on this planet, generations and generations, no one really has very much money. All those generations of people who worked hard so their descendants can have something more than what they had. Some actually were able to accumulate some wealth but then along comes a natural disaster, a plague or a war (and let’s not forget the Titanic) and they lose it all. Then there are those who come to America where they’ve been told that there’s gold and money lining the streets. A select few actually find great fortune and then are able to keep it all for themselves ... ... until the next natural disaster, plague or war.

`

Remember when video killed the radio star?

The bottom line is that no one actually has very much money at all. It’s all relative, I know, but those few who have great wealth have probably had it from the beginning of time. So those of you who dream of "Living the Good Life" in the lap of luxury, DREAM ON! It’s all relative, of course.

I’m all for the “Caste System”. Why bother at all? It will spare us from the agony of defeat.

Newspapers! Newspapers! Newspapers!

I remember visiting the Science Centre quite awhile ago and stopping at their Garbage Exhibit to learn that, after forty years, if our dumps are excavated, all that garbage will still be intact because it has been sitting in an airtight environment. To prove their point they had samples of things that were collected at an excavation. There was blue jeans, food scraps, broken jars and things, but the item that stood out the most for me were the newspapers, still all in one piece and legible.

To think of all the history in those newspapers, all the hard work of the researchers, writers, editors, printers, distributors, etc., etc,. All this work and activity that goes into publishing newspapers which all go to the dump but one day may be excavated and will intrigue and inspire a new generation.

NOT ANYMORE! As we all know, ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE RECYCLES THEIR NEWSPAPERS. To think of all the history in those newspapers, all the hard work of the researchers, writers, editors, printers, distributors, etc., etc, now ends up in the recycling bins to be turned into mulch and paper fiber, never to be excavated or seen again by human eyes.

Well, there’s some interesting stuff in my daily paper. I’ve decided to get one of those scrapbooks, not the fancy ones with buttons and bows, but they’ll do too, just to save some of those stories that everyone has worked long hours to produce and publish. It will be nice to reflect on these stories as I get older, it’s true, but also as memorabilia. Let's face it, those writers, photographers, cartoonists and so on, will retire or move on. The advertisements are sometimes worth saving too. What intrigues me in the paper these days is the Career Section. What happened to the Career Section? It's almost non-existent and it will be worth saving as proof of the poor job market. Hopefully, this too will pass.

People once did this kind of stuff. They saved noteworthy material. I wonder if it will keep me living in the past? I've been told if I want to compete in today's society I must "Stay Current!" So I read the paper to "Stay Current" but I think I'll save some of those gems and those pearls of wisdom. I'll just tape them into one of those plain, old scrapbooks.

`
The kids may get a kick out of it one day or they may not care at all!

Sisters

"A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life."

~ Isadora James ~

"Big sisters are the crab grass in the lawn of life."

~ Charles M. Schulz ~

"Sisters never quite forgive each other for what happened when they were five."

`

~ Pam Brown ~

`

"If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child."

`

~ Linda Sunshine ~

For those of you looking for employment like I am, here's an update:

There are ~ 42,513 ~ job listings on Canada's HRDC Job Bank at this moment and there are ~ 33,212,549 ~ people in Canada at this moment. That's 42,513 job openings from sea to shining sea.

That's slim pickins'! Good Luck! Looks like I'll be unemployed for awhile.

Newfoundland once had a make work program because of their high unemployment rate. People were given one year contracts, just long enough to qualify for unempoyment benefits in an effort to keep people off the welfare rolls. Looks like the whole country has followed in their footsteps.

My younger daughter, who is deaf and was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and I had a fight - a bad one - and she wants me to know she is moving out and back in with her father. After all, he doesn't have a problem with her working at a gas station.

~ After all that! Why did I bother? ~

At this time I wish to thank:

The Children’s Aid Society

Who, upon setting foot in our home, proceeded to destroy my daughters and myself and for forcing a wonderful mother (me) to the welfare rolls and thoughts of suicide.

May God Strike You All Dead!

Many crooked Lawyers (aren’t they all) who I went to for help but who dug my grave instead.

It’s their area of expertise.

May God Strike You All Dead!

The Judges at the Newmarket Courthouse (an all women world).
If not for their wisdom (who are they kidding) my children and I would not have ended up on the welfare rolls.

May God Strike You All Dead!

To all those wonderful doctors out there, somewhere, none of which are caring for my childrens’ medical issues or mine.

Where do I find one?

I really think at the root of this was that problem I had in my old neighborhood over a decade ago which forced me to file a complaint against the Jews in the neighborhood who were harassing me and many others in the neighborhood and they’re never going to let me forget it.

What was I thinking? After all, according to them, they own my soul. Couldn’t I have shut up! How stupid was I to think the Police would send help? In my dreams!

All this trouble because my daughter developed a terminal illness (according to the doctors) and I kept her home from school.

Oh! What a wonderful world!

So, a few days pass and she calls to tell me she's coming by to pick up her belongings. I tell her to wait until the weekend. But instead she comes by anyway, escorted by two Police Officers who watch while she collects her belongings, and when I ask her where she is going she won't tell me. I don't have to know. She's over 18 and can go wherever she wants.

To think the Police Force supports this behaviour. What if she ends up dead somewhere? What do they care?

I call and leave messages on her cell phone that I'm paying for and she doesn't return my calls. I call my ex-husband and he doesn't return my calls either. It takes my family of lawyers, teachers and a police officer to make sure their cousin (me) and her children fall to the bottom of the heap. No, lets add to that all those lawyers who I went to for advice who wouldn't have it any other way.

So, now ... what's the best way for me to commit suicide? Where can I get enough drugs to do the job? I'll do it for them. Just because they want me to!

So, I had a spat with the bosses and I’m no longer employed!

Well, now that I’m unemployed, I decided to open one of those bank accounts with free chequing, free withdrawals, free …., free …, free …, and they even pay a percent or two more interest.

`

What does this tell you? I’ve hit rock bottom.

I've always thought those accounts (or anything for that matter) that offer free … free … free … stuff, somewhere along the line, leaves someone unemployed and others not earning much. I also thought these types of accounts were for hard-core penny pinchers who don’t care if people work or not or earn what they’re worth. It amazes me how many people who hold good paying jobs and have money to burn (but don’t) take advantage of these services. I always thought those people were digging their graves. I thought in some intangible, supernatural way they will lose some money to make up for all the penny pinching they do. To think that by a lot of people paying a few extra dollars in bank fees every month someone will have a job.

I now fall into the same group as they do. No! I really, really don’t have the money to burn and at this point I’m so grateful this type of service is available just for people like me. Not them!

That extra bit of interest they pay on my account will come in handy except I don’t have any money invested. I do, however, own a credit card with their brand and I’ve had it for over a year. It earns points I can use to make purchases in their associated stores. I don’t do Air Miles and I try to pay mostly with cash because I’m sure somewhere down the line I’ll pay for taking all that free stuff. But, right now I’m soooo glad I have this type of credit card (or two) because it is soooo helpful. I’m sure one day I’ll get back on my feet and if I somehow, supernaturally lose some money in an intangible way, at that point, I’ll deserve it but I’ll be so grateful for these services I used to get back up on my feet.

After the divorce my children and I went our separate ways. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried to fight it through proper legal channels the situation was hopeless but, just the same, I gave it all I got. There was this problem with the step-mother who felt I wasn’t nice enough to her, and so made sure the girls broke bonds with me. All that screaming and cussing that came out of my mouth didn’t help matters. She kept calling the Police and being the important person that she was, (no she wasn’t) they came a knocking at my door and called to harass me and accuse me of making harassing phone calls. The fact that they wouldn’t let me see my children didn’t count. “Can’t I get a lawyer?” they told me. I did. I spoke to several who told me not to bother fighting it. Just “be nice”. These kids grow up just the same and live their own lives. Getting a Court order, according to them, was too expensive and, by the way, they are not enforced. All my complaining fell on deaf ears.

Well, I spent years in misery with everyone taking it as a big joke and no one’s support. They all expected me to give it up. “That’s just life!” No, I couldn’t accept it.

While they were not with me, both my daughters went out on a body-piercing spree. It was a big trend in that small hick town we lived in at the time to put as many holes in your body as you can endure. I’m just so grateful it stopped before they reached the tongue piercing and genital piercing stage. The other day, just out of the blue, my youngest daughter announced that she no longer wanted all those holes in her ears (three in each) and was only going to use one from now on.

I wonder why that happened? Maybe it’s something in the City air?

It took some doing to bring my youngest back with me and only after missing years of birthdays, Christmas’, proms, special events, etc., etc. According to some, “The girls have come into their own.” That’s not the way I see it. They’ve been totally destroyed and I’ve missed so much of their formative years that we seem like strangers and they’re both convinced that it was all my fault.

So it’s been several months that my youngest is back under my roof. There’s so much secrecy about what happened when I was not a part of her life and she still keeps secrets about what she plans to do tomorrow or the weekend or with the rest of her life. So many phone calls showing up on my Call Ident as “Blocked I.D.” so I won’t know who’s calling her or possibly take down the number and investigate further. Her life is none of my business, so they all tell her, and yet I’m expected to pay her way and care for her. It’s required by law but I’d do it just the same. She found herself surrounded by other children whose parents were also divorced and they all fell through the same crack. They’re very untrusting of adults. She always goes into her room to take phone calls so I don’t hear her conversations. Except for a few instances.

There are three that I remember quite well. She ALWAYS answers the phone now. It doesn’t bother me. There were these three instances, about once a month, when I was at home and overheard. She answered the phone and because she is hearing impaired she has to angle the phone a certain way to hear the sound but the voices carry out and so I can hear a voice but can’t make out the words. Well, this was a woman’s voice. She talked non-stop for the entire conversation without my daughter asking questions, answering or interrupting and she just listened and went into a bit of a daze. The conversations lasted from five to ten minutes and at the end my daughter says, “Okay, bye.”and hangs up. I asked who it was but she says, “You don’t have to know.” or “You have to learn to mind your own business.” or “Never mind.” I’m convinced that someone is using some kind of mind control or brainwashing technique on her. I’m also convinced that there was a cult ring operating in that hick town where we living in. I know, you think I’ve been watching too much TV but I’ve learned a lot from those TV investigative shows I’ve watched and enough from the news reports to know that there are sick people who really do this kind of stuff.

Has something like this ever happened to you?

Who can I tell? I called my ex-husband and left a message and wondered if he had noticed this before but he has not replied. Should I go to the Police? Why bother? My complaints haven’t held water with them up till now. So I’ve become a spy/agent/investigator or Nancy Drew/Buffy the Vampire Slayer, incognito, and when this all comes to the forefront I’m sure there will be many who will benefit from my ordeal and new discoveries. Unfortunately, I’m not one. I look upon this as an obligation that I’ve followed through with in an effort to stop my daughters and I from falling even further into the pit.

Yesterday, I received an e-mail from my estranged, oldest daughter (I have two) who a while ago decided she doesn’t want anything to do with us.

Couldn’t she have used the phone?

What have we done to deserve this? What snapped and made her like this? I spend countless hours in misery wondering where she is, where she’ll be going and, for that matter, the same for my youngest and myself as well. Well, she tells me she’s fine and living in the City with her new boyfriend. His parents just love her! So do I. I wish somone would take their children away from them and see if they appreciate it. Perhaps I should have been a surrogate? The nerve of people in who think so highly of your children that they want to spend lots of time with them. So do I. They even give them ideas that their parents don't deserve them.

`

She hopes I’m well and hopes it doesn’t come to me calling the Police to file a missing person report again. I can’t guarantee that. I believe that after going to University for one year she’s been told never to give me the upper hand. And what about all this secrecy? I’m only her mother and have no influence on her life. They made sure of it. She’ll be 23 soon.

How many times have you heard of families falling apart, or rather crashing, in such bizarre ways when before they were a happy family? This happens more and more often and I’m convinced it’s a curse or a hex. We made the bad decision to move to a suburb of this City and found ourselves in the midst of cult groups. I should have alerted the Police or Authorities? I did. This is my payback. The Authorities either don’t believe you or they’re hesitant to do something about it. They don’t know what to do. They advise you to move out of town. “I guess I have it coming,” or so I’ve been told so many times.

Nothing goes your way anymore, your family abandons you, your finances and job prospects suffer greatly and next thing you know you find yourself with others who have had the same experiences.

We sit and compare notes and realize that there are far too many similarities to be just a coincidence or just “One of those things”. Most of us are divorced. Could it be that those ~Family Lawyers and Judges~ are doing the hexing? We’ve almost all had to go into the Courthouse for something trivial, in my case not even against the law, and they throw the book at us.

Everyone we speak to in the Social Services Sector tells us, “Can’t make them if they don’t want to,” regarding family members and children who refuse to help and the people whose mouths these words come out of are no help whatsoever. What does this tell us? We’re doomed. We’re all heading for those Nursing Homes where old people wander aimlessly and no one ever comes to visit.

Those in the teaching profession fall into the same mold. I wonder … do they tell their children what to do and make sure they follow their instructions? Yes. It seems to be some kind of a conspiracy so these people and their children will move up in the world and my children and I will fall into the welfare roles and become dismal failures. “Serves a double purpose,” they’ll tell you, “Don’t want them to take the upper hand.”

"We were too good!" Not anymore.

"How did we get this far?" No, we’re the bottoms of the barrel now.

“We’ll never get there!” Well, this is understood. I never expected to. We got just a little too close! No, not by a milestone.

Well, I guess living in a hick town all your life makes you incredibly narrow minded and always looking over your shoulder to make sure no one gets one up on you. How their worlds would crumble and collapse if they lived in the City with millions of people instead of a few thousand. We’re just like ants in a colony or more like fleas. We're practically invisible to the human eye when you get the REALLY BIG PICTURE.

I’m so glad I moved back to the City where no one gives me the time of day. I’ve become a total recluse, by choice, but being separated from my children has left me numb and not caring much about anything.

But back to the hexes and curses. They don’t go away. The cycle never seems to end. There are no steps forward, only backwards, over and over again, it’s a downhill tumble. You can see it coming and, it seems, when one of us fall the rest of us follow in their footsteps. We all fall down!

Who’s looking over us and putting us through this misery? It’s not God.

This fall my youngest daughter came to live with me, her mother, after five years of trying to bribe her unsuccessfully while she was living with my ex-husband and his new wife who slandered me to the point of no return. With intentions of going to University that later changed because I persuaded her to go to College, I convinced her to live with me and going to a nearby campus instead of going out of town and paying all that extra money for lodging which neither she or I could afford but these kids think money grows on trees.

Here’s the catch, my daughter is not in good health. She was a victim of bullying at elementary school, started to develop health problems, which I’m convinced, were triggered by stress, and was diagnosed with a condition that causes stroke-like seizures, one of the side effects being the loss of hearing. Thanks to technology she is able to hear with a cochlear implant and a processor.

She started her first semester at College and after several months passed she dropped half the courses because she was physically unable to keep up with the workload. She plans on taking next semester off and starting again in September and taking a lighter course load. This means it will take her twice as long to finish the course, but who cares? Not me. She tires very easily (it’s part of the illness), is unable to walk long distances and it takes days to recuperate after she’s pushed herself to the limit. I’ve driven her to school and back since it’s not too far out of the way from work and I tried everything I could to help her succeed. Taking the transit system would have been a disaster. She also insisted on working part-time. I tried, I tried and tried to talk her out of it. I’m sure she thinks it shows that she can handle responsibility. She keeps telling me I can’t run her life but then it’s me who has to take care of her when her health deteriorates.

Needless to say, I worry about her, always.

The other day my youngest daughter, I suppose, was tired of staying in the apartment and decided to take a short walk across the street to the Mall to buy a magazine. I remind her often to call me when she is leaving the apartment but she has a bad memory and forgets. So, just out of the blue that’s what she did. Nothing wrong with that. Walking home from the Mall she crossed the main street and then proceeded to cross the side street. According to her, she wasn’t paying attention and next thing you know ----- she was hit by a car, which was travelling at a low speed, lucky for us both. It was just a bump but enough to knock her off her feet and the driver was quite distraught offering to drive her home and call the Police. My youngest daughter, being distraught herself and feeling she was partly to blame because she wasn’t paying attention, insisted that she was fine and picked herself up and walked back to the apartment, which was less than five minutes away.

Well, I suppose when she arrived home she panicked and wondered if she had done the right thing, so she decided to call her boyfriend’s mother, not HER MOTHER, to ask for advice because she’s a nurse. Her advice was to call 911 – and that she did without calling me because she didn’t want to worry me at work. They arrived and whisked her off to the hospital for an examination and also to file a Police Report but without knowing the driver’s name or license plate number there wasn't much point. There were minor bruises and a few scratches.

I then get a phone call at work from the ambulance driver to give me the low down. “There’s no rush in getting to the hospital,” he said, “she’s fine.” So I left work right away but didn’t rush to get to the hospital and was greeted at the Emergency Ward by two Police Officers who also briefed me on the situation. She wasn’t actually seen by the doctor because they didn’t feel it was necessary but it was up to me. I decided to have her examined, since we were there, to make sure there was no concussion.

She was given a clean bill of health and we drove home.

It cost me $7.50 to park in the Emergency parking area and about a week later I received a bill for $45.00 for Ambulance Services, peanuts really when you think of the service you get, but being broke and on a line of credit it was just another step backwards. It’s been a downhill slide ever since I set foot in the Courthouse for divorce proceedings (that left me without support for me or my children, the lawyers wouldn’t have it any other way) and a Children’s Aid matter just before that, both unnecessary steps that we were obligated to follow through with.