Since I had to go out around lunch time yesterday, and since I had a yen for a burger, and since Cuppa wasn't home to share crackers and cheese with, I stopped at Harveys for lunch yesterday. It's a Canadian burger chain, maybe just southern Ontario for all I know, but in some ways it's the only option in our town.
We do have a McDonalds inside Walmart here, but inside Walmart is not a real McDonalds in my opinion. Besides, I can only appreciate The Home of the Big Mac a few times a year, so Mickey D's is pretty well out for me for the next little while. We had a very good, independent local burger joint, but it sold, and I am less enthusiastic about the new management. So, until the new A&W opens, it's pretty well down to Harveys or nobody.
Therefore, to Harveys I went, and I must say that it was a very positive experience for a lowly burger joint, and it wasn't because of the food. The owner (I presume) was on the line and happily chatting up us customers. He appeared to be so happy and was so upbeat, that I felt good about being there.
Later, he, and not a min-wage, kid helper cleared my table with more upbeat chatter about the newspaper that I was reading. He bustled off encouraging me to stay as long as I wished and hoping that I had more room to enjoy my reading now that my place was cleared.
The food wasn't anything to write about, but it did satisfy an urge that I won't feel the need to indulge again for a while. However, I certainly appreciated meeting such an ebullient server/owner in a burger joint of all places. People like that are totally opposite to me; maybe that's why I appreciate them so much.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Meet Yaa of Ghana
It was just yesterday, when I informed Cuppa that I had loaned money to a woman in Ghana that she groaned, thinking that senility had prematurely set into my brain. However, when I explained how the micro loans worked at KIVA, she agreed that I remained in my right mind and actually commented that I was doing a good thing.
Many years ago, I used to show a video to my World Issues students featuring several people who were quite skeptical about the worth of foreign aid. They were taken to the Indian subcontinent to view various aid projects. Although they weren't totally thrilled with all they they saw, by and large, they became convinced of the value of assisting others. One of the most convincing cases was the change in lives that they saw from lending women (mostly) small amounts of money — micro loans — that changed their lives. In additions to significantly improving lives, these tiny loans were almost invariably paid back.
So ... when Ginnie posted yesterday about her experiences of helping various people through KIVA, I was moved to lend a very modest amount to Yaa of Ghana, mother of seven who sells baked goods and meat pies in her local market. She requested a loan to help her increase her inventory and improve her business.
How it works is that many of us will each loan Yaa a small amount of money until she has the amount that she needs to meet her requirements. She is due begin paying the money back early next year. At that point, I can recoup my investment or lend it to someone else.
I looked for someone at the lower end of the socioeconomic scale, and Yaa seemed to fit. I also preferred to assist a woman because I think that a woman's lot is harder than a man's in the developing world ... and perhaps everywhere. Also, by helping a woman, I feel that I increase my chances of helping a whole family, in this case seven children, and that seems desirable to me.
Repayment of loans is very high, over 95%, but even if the borrower defaults, it is likely that no one lender will lose very much of his or her investment.
What a neat concept to help others to help themselves with very little outlay required on our parts. Most of us can't do a whole lot to make the world a better place, but I figure that every little bit helps. And, what the heck, call me selfish, but I rather enjoy the warm feeling that comes with such a small gesture.
Many years ago, I used to show a video to my World Issues students featuring several people who were quite skeptical about the worth of foreign aid. They were taken to the Indian subcontinent to view various aid projects. Although they weren't totally thrilled with all they they saw, by and large, they became convinced of the value of assisting others. One of the most convincing cases was the change in lives that they saw from lending women (mostly) small amounts of money — micro loans — that changed their lives. In additions to significantly improving lives, these tiny loans were almost invariably paid back.
So ... when Ginnie posted yesterday about her experiences of helping various people through KIVA, I was moved to lend a very modest amount to Yaa of Ghana, mother of seven who sells baked goods and meat pies in her local market. She requested a loan to help her increase her inventory and improve her business.
How it works is that many of us will each loan Yaa a small amount of money until she has the amount that she needs to meet her requirements. She is due begin paying the money back early next year. At that point, I can recoup my investment or lend it to someone else.
I looked for someone at the lower end of the socioeconomic scale, and Yaa seemed to fit. I also preferred to assist a woman because I think that a woman's lot is harder than a man's in the developing world ... and perhaps everywhere. Also, by helping a woman, I feel that I increase my chances of helping a whole family, in this case seven children, and that seems desirable to me.
Repayment of loans is very high, over 95%, but even if the borrower defaults, it is likely that no one lender will lose very much of his or her investment.
What a neat concept to help others to help themselves with very little outlay required on our parts. Most of us can't do a whole lot to make the world a better place, but I figure that every little bit helps. And, what the heck, call me selfish, but I rather enjoy the warm feeling that comes with such a small gesture.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Sunbeams
We arrived at the site of the clinic yester morn before 6 o'clock and sat in the dark for awhile before the full moon began to set toward the west at the same time that the sun was beginning to rise in the east. A little while later, at 8 o'clock, I wandered to the other side of the parking lot to take this picture of the sun beginning to light these two trees.
At that time, after two hours of waiting there were still relatively few people in line, but by an hour later, the line was growing apace, and by the time I had to leave, just past 10 o'clock, it was twice as long as what you see below.
A lot of people were there with there kids, and you might wonder why that might not work for us. Well, it's not because of the baby, Zachary, so much as it is due to the older one, Nikki Dee. While all sorts of children might be content to sit contentedly and amuse themselves with quiet pursuits, I figured that my dear ND would have be running up and down, trying to make friends with everyone and endeavouring to hug various aghast children to pieces.
So, we tried to time her arrival to just before they opened the clinic for the shots. While we weren't totally successful, we were able to eliminate prolonged hours of trying to herd her. She says "Hi" to one and all, and normal children simply don't know what to make of her: for example, this pair at the park yesterday. They were already playing with their Daddy on the contraption that you see below. Well, the girl got up to leave as soon as ND arrived on the scene. The boy stayed for awhile whilst Buppa bounced them both but was quite eager to vacate after a few smothering hugs from ND: hugs which we, sadly, did not catch on camera.
Just to confirm my suspicions, I asked Cuppa how Nikki Dee deported herself in the line in my absence. Just as I thought, she felt it her duty roam all over the place asking who this was and who that was and basically unnerving many quieter children.
She means well, you know, just wants to be everybody's friend and assumes that everyone must feel the same way about her. It hurts her Buppa to realize the lessons that she will have to learn in discovering that this is not so. However, I think this picture that we took at the park yesterday afternoon, after all of the morning's fuss, is very appropriate: as beams of sunshine are illuminating this little angel.
As she would ask, "Do you see that?"
At that time, after two hours of waiting there were still relatively few people in line, but by an hour later, the line was growing apace, and by the time I had to leave, just past 10 o'clock, it was twice as long as what you see below.
A lot of people were there with there kids, and you might wonder why that might not work for us. Well, it's not because of the baby, Zachary, so much as it is due to the older one, Nikki Dee. While all sorts of children might be content to sit contentedly and amuse themselves with quiet pursuits, I figured that my dear ND would have be running up and down, trying to make friends with everyone and endeavouring to hug various aghast children to pieces.
So, we tried to time her arrival to just before they opened the clinic for the shots. While we weren't totally successful, we were able to eliminate prolonged hours of trying to herd her. She says "Hi" to one and all, and normal children simply don't know what to make of her: for example, this pair at the park yesterday. They were already playing with their Daddy on the contraption that you see below. Well, the girl got up to leave as soon as ND arrived on the scene. The boy stayed for awhile whilst Buppa bounced them both but was quite eager to vacate after a few smothering hugs from ND: hugs which we, sadly, did not catch on camera.
Just to confirm my suspicions, I asked Cuppa how Nikki Dee deported herself in the line in my absence. Just as I thought, she felt it her duty roam all over the place asking who this was and who that was and basically unnerving many quieter children.
She means well, you know, just wants to be everybody's friend and assumes that everyone must feel the same way about her. It hurts her Buppa to realize the lessons that she will have to learn in discovering that this is not so. However, I think this picture that we took at the park yesterday afternoon, after all of the morning's fuss, is very appropriate: as beams of sunshine are illuminating this little angel.
As she would ask, "Do you see that?"
Monday, November 02, 2009
Today at the H1N1 Vaccination Clinic
It's almost 11:00 AM, so the two grands should be getting their shots very soon. I can't say that I'm too sorry to miss the trauma of the needles going in, but I had to leave the lineup, so Thesha could have my parking spot. Otherwise, she would have had to park way way way out on the road and walk the kids, and that would have been problematic.
However, Cuppa and I had our choice of spots when we arrived before six o'clock this morning, but between nine and ten o'clock the lot was jammed and cars were lined up and down the road. It was a big parking lot, but it was still full, and the lineup went all of the way around the lot. The shots are to begin at 11:00, and I expect the parking lot mayhem to actually get worse as cars will be moving in both directions after that.
Some people can be very rude and inconsiderate. One person, a public health nurse, I suspect, managed to block the driveway in front of the door by abandoning her car there, which won't help the congestion at all. As long as it made life convenient for her, I guess. I would probably feel some satisfaction at keying that car. It would have been a deserved outcome for sure.
In the end, the morning went fairly quickly for Cuppa and me, and at least Mom and grands didn't have to lineup forever and then possibly be turned away. Apparently, that's happened quite a bit in this area. At this point, only priority groups are being targetted, but the lists of priority groups are so long, that the turnouts are still huge.
I'm not sure whether I will want repeat the procedure when the vaccination clinics are opened for the rest of us. For the grands, yes; for me, I just don't know. Maybe though: as it meant two rounds of coffee from Tims and on takeout breakfast sandwich. Cuppa always says, "We're making a memory," and it's true that you can make almost any occasion into a pleasant event if you put yourself in the right frame of mind. She's good at helping me to see life in that light, even though it's not always my first inclination — which is to grouse and complain like I did in this space just the other morning.
However, Cuppa and I had our choice of spots when we arrived before six o'clock this morning, but between nine and ten o'clock the lot was jammed and cars were lined up and down the road. It was a big parking lot, but it was still full, and the lineup went all of the way around the lot. The shots are to begin at 11:00, and I expect the parking lot mayhem to actually get worse as cars will be moving in both directions after that.
Some people can be very rude and inconsiderate. One person, a public health nurse, I suspect, managed to block the driveway in front of the door by abandoning her car there, which won't help the congestion at all. As long as it made life convenient for her, I guess. I would probably feel some satisfaction at keying that car. It would have been a deserved outcome for sure.
In the end, the morning went fairly quickly for Cuppa and me, and at least Mom and grands didn't have to lineup forever and then possibly be turned away. Apparently, that's happened quite a bit in this area. At this point, only priority groups are being targetted, but the lists of priority groups are so long, that the turnouts are still huge.
I'm not sure whether I will want repeat the procedure when the vaccination clinics are opened for the rest of us. For the grands, yes; for me, I just don't know. Maybe though: as it meant two rounds of coffee from Tims and on takeout breakfast sandwich. Cuppa always says, "We're making a memory," and it's true that you can make almost any occasion into a pleasant event if you put yourself in the right frame of mind. She's good at helping me to see life in that light, even though it's not always my first inclination — which is to grouse and complain like I did in this space just the other morning.
Nikki Dee's Turn
After featuring Zach yesterday, it's Nikki Dee's turn today. She has just turned two-and-a-half and is an incredibly delightful little girl whom I love to pieces. I know that you wouldn't have guessed, so I thought I'd mention it.
Update: Some non-portrait photos from a walk in the woods on Sunday.
Update: Some non-portrait photos from a walk in the woods on Sunday.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Silent Sunday
Some of the many faces of Zachary who is just a few days short of being nine months old. He's incredibly handsome and reminds me a lot of his Buppa. Not! :)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
I'm in a State ...
... of pi$$edoffedness this morning, partly due to the H1N1 clinic fiasco and partly due to melted butter.
How are the clinics going in your locale? Here, they're nuts: people line up and pass their germs back and forth for hours and hours and then they are sent home with their shot because the vaccine has run out. What a mess! That's in the city, but the thing is, there's going to be a local one here in the boonies next week, and we'll have to be part of the chaos, and that doesn't make me happy. This round will be for the younger kids like Nikki Dee and Zachary, who are considered to be a priority. While I'd go to the wall for these two, it still irks me that I have to. Around here, doctors give the normal flu shots in their offices: a rather sane solution where appointments can be made and lineups avoided. But that's not the way the H1N1 is being handled, at least at this point. Sigh. Grouse. Fume. Sizzle.
However, of much greater significance (kidding) is the fact that I melted butter in the microwave this morning. I couldn't remember how to set both the power level and timer, and I reduced the butter to oil in my vain efforts. I don't really care about a quarter block of melted butter, but I do care that I couldn't figure out how to set than infernal machine. My stupidity drives me crazy sometimes — er, crazier.
That's it: two irks for this jerk this morning.
Oh ... and did I mention in passing (well, I am now) that it's raining again? Thesha posed a question on Twitter, "When was the last day that it didn't rain?" My answer: "Last winter, on the last day that it snowed."
How are the clinics going in your locale? Here, they're nuts: people line up and pass their germs back and forth for hours and hours and then they are sent home with their shot because the vaccine has run out. What a mess! That's in the city, but the thing is, there's going to be a local one here in the boonies next week, and we'll have to be part of the chaos, and that doesn't make me happy. This round will be for the younger kids like Nikki Dee and Zachary, who are considered to be a priority. While I'd go to the wall for these two, it still irks me that I have to. Around here, doctors give the normal flu shots in their offices: a rather sane solution where appointments can be made and lineups avoided. But that's not the way the H1N1 is being handled, at least at this point. Sigh. Grouse. Fume. Sizzle.
However, of much greater significance (kidding) is the fact that I melted butter in the microwave this morning. I couldn't remember how to set both the power level and timer, and I reduced the butter to oil in my vain efforts. I don't really care about a quarter block of melted butter, but I do care that I couldn't figure out how to set than infernal machine. My stupidity drives me crazy sometimes — er, crazier.
That's it: two irks for this jerk this morning.
Oh ... and did I mention in passing (well, I am now) that it's raining again? Thesha posed a question on Twitter, "When was the last day that it didn't rain?" My answer: "Last winter, on the last day that it snowed."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)