Erin's Journals

Just a thought… It only takes one person to change your life: you. [Ruth Casey]

Has anyone else felt like this? Like the first couple of weeks of quarantine/self-isolation were a bit like a vacation from the rules, but now it’s like the end of Christmas break and it’s time to start seeing if pants with a zipper fit?

Those first few days when we arrived back home, gratefully, to Canada, all I could do was crave chocolate. (And for a short time, wine to deal with the stress. But that passed.) Peanut M & Ms were doing naughty things together in my dreams and I only wanted to, as our CHFI newscaster (now heard daily on 680 News) Steve Roberts would say, “put them in my mooooooooth!”

Then came the blessed day they arrived with a shipment of actual necessities from Costco. Two huge, glorious, yellow bags of these colourful treats.

After all of that jonesing, I have to admit to you that I was glad to see them gone, even if it was within a week. Then we switched lanes on the Crave Valley Parkway.

When a kindly neighbour asked what we needed from the store in those early days, we’d request dairy for our morning coffee, some yogurt for breakfast and…potato chips.

You’ll never find chips in our cupboards in “normal” times. Ever. Why? Same reason I don’t bake cookies: I would eat them all. And guess what? I did. Uh-oh.

Then came Rob’s first grocery outing after our two weeks indoors and he came home with, not one, but three bags of Old Dutch ripple chips. And a bag of Wavy Lays (which sounds like our early days with a water bed). We actually conducted a taste test of which were better and Old Dutch won. Thank you, science, I’ll be awaiting my Noble Prize this week. (And I am being sarcastic, Mr. Presidunce.)

But now, reality has set in. I didn’t appreciate that my scale was telling me that in some bizarre and cruel alchemy, chips translate to pounds, so I knocked it off. Now it’s popcorn or nothing.

And what a waste of money was that bag of organic popcorn (the only stuff Rob could find). Maybe it was old, maybe it was just a lousy brand. But there were more Old Maids, which is apparently what old timey people called the unpopped kernels – or at least in Rob’s upbringing they did – than popped ones, it seemed.

Back to ol’ Orville for us, unless we can find some more of that Nutty Club popcorn that our friends picked up for us when it was the last bag left in their local market.

I actually remembered my grandmother buying this brand when I was a kid; when she popped it in her screened popcorn popper (with a long handle and a wooden section where you held it to scrape it back and forth over the iron plate atop the gas burner) it produced the biggest and fluffiest popcorn we’d ever had! And guess what? This rediscovery of Nutty Club brand did NOT disappoint!

This brand holds such fond memories of popcorn at Gram’s that I took a picture of this place when I visited Winnipeg for an MC event a few years back. This isn’t my shot, but it is the building. You can keep your M & M store in Times Square!

I did, however, take this one. Clearly I was hungry that day.

Meantime, the good people of Belgium are being urged to double their intake of fries (undoubtedly with mayonnaise on the side), as farmers there face a huge problem of having too many potatoes. If this comes to Canada, I will – as a good citizen – do my part. Quaran-poutine anyone? Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that yet.

But as we ponder a meat shortage due to processing plant shutdowns because of COVID-19 outbreaks, I think that, rather than stock up a freezer with chops, wings and steaks, Rob and I will lean towards going meatless on more than just Mondays. We’ll see how this all pans out, if you will.

So there it is. Snacking is under control. Recumbent bike is back in action and we’re going to dig the Wii out of the basement so I can step lively while watching TV at night, always working towards the goal that keeps me going, in almost every facet of my life.

Maybe these are the first few steps (literally) back into our normal lives. I’m content with and supportive of measures that keep us isolated as long as we need to, in order to protect everyone around us.

But in a life where yoga pants are now dressing up and PJs are the latest word in daily fashion, I’m afraid we all run the risk of learning that quarantine is just a French word for “your jeans have shrunk.”

Now – anyone else craving fries?

Just a thought… To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die. [Thomas Campbell]

This number will probably rise, but what great news to read that some $6,000,000 was raised for Foodbanks Canada by Sunday night’s #StrongerTogether special. How amazing is that? O, Canada, indeed! They’ll be taking donations for the next 30 days, by the way.

Rob and I rolled up our sleeves to give blood yesterday – first time in five years, when this picture was taken.

Rogers and Canadian Blood Services set up a donor clinic in Lauren’s memory in the fall of 2015 in the basement meeting room of our building at 1 Ted Rogers Way and we were both deeply touched at the number of people who came out to give their most precious gift.

And so we begin to repay the debt and will continue to do so on a regular basis. We’ve been turned down before because of our frequent travels, but this time, they accepted us.

In doing some research, I was relieved to read that here in Canada, since 2019, the gates to more givers have been opened somewhat: men who have not had sex with another man in three months are eligible to give. However, monogamous same-sex male relationships don’t allow for any bending of those rules.

Yes, I suppose the logic is that you cannot truly be sure that your partner has been faithful to you, but couldn’t that question be applied to every person who comes in to donate? Maybe I’m missing something. I typed “gay” “homosexual” and “monogamous” into their search pane in Canadian Blood Services’ FAQs and nothing came up. Perhaps not so FA?

So, it came as no surprise that Rob, in his pre-donation quiz, was asked whether he’d had sex with a man in the last three months. But, here’s what came up on the screen as I answered those 20-some questions….

After answering the computerized questionnaire, I was taken in almost immediately to talk for about ten minutes with the nurse, a lovely man named Kaivan, who hails from Iran.

We both talked about why we elected to come to BC; he’d lived in Toronto and Ottawa before choosing island life like we had. When I told him that the only Farsi I know is the word for angel (something I learned while watching a movie years ago), that’s what he started calling me: “fereshteh.”

And then I told him the real reason we were there was our angel, who was an avid blood donor. I pointed to the small necklace I wear that carries just a few of Lauren’s ashes. And on we went….

After waiting another ten minutes or so in carefully-spaced seating, Rob and I were directed to comfortable (and portable) reclining chairs. The entire bloodletting, if you will, took only about eight minutes. Wish we could do it in a drive-thru! Okay, not seriously, but I sure do long for a faster process. But then again, what else did I have to do, right?

Despite delays that meant we got out of our 12:20 appointment at about 3 pm, overall I’d say it went smoothly. (When we first arrived, things were slowed by the fact that not all of the CBS people had masks, so they were awaiting the arrival of fresh supplies. Not sure how that hiccup happened, but hopefully they’ll be able to take measures to prevent it in the future.)

We’ll keep our promise it do it again in another two to three months and there will be online reminders to poke us (no pun intended) to do so. When I asked Bronwyn, who was attending to me, just how they’re doing in terms of numbers, she said that in Victoria they have as many donors as the system can handle right now, given the distancing that is in practice.

They usually have 80 donors when they come to Sidney (which happens about once a month) but the limit is now 60. I was heartened to hear that as many people are giving as are allowed and hope that that continues.

Meantime, if you haven’t given blood – or like us, have waited far too long to do it again – and you’re able to, maybe you’ll want to look online to find a time and place that works for you. Maybe you’ll be lucky to have someone call you “fereshteh” too!

Just a thought… Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness. [Seneca]

Okay – so it’s Monday. I know this for a fact because I have a noon appointment outside the house (first outing that didn’t involve a poo bag in well over a month) and it’s garbage day! This is how we measure our weeks now. The things that used to get in the way are now the only things on the horizon. At least, from here, for now.

Well, what were you doing last night? I’m going to be honest with you: I was almost reluctant to tune in for the #StrongerTogether broadcast/fundraiser for Foodbanks Canada. After all, we’d seen two such shows (one in BC, one in the US) on back-to-back nights, and then last Friday’s beautiful Nova Scotia Strong presentation. I felt a little emotionally exhausted from it all.

But, boy, am I glad I watched! From Sarah McLachlan to Alessia Cara, Pascal Siakam to Tessa Virtue, Mike Myers to Eugene & Dan Levy, the worlds of sports, TV/movies and music came together from coast to coast to coast to bring Canadians, not only some excellent entertainment, but a continuing message to stay home, stay safe.

Of course, the underlying theme of the entire one hour, 34 minute show (made long, I have to believe, by Drake’s last-minute addition – even after the PM’s “lean on each other” tie-in to the terrific finale) was a salute to those who are out every day doing their jobs so that we can stay sheltered and hopefully keep up our end of the deal.

Here’s where you can donate if, like us, you tried to text or log in last night and found the system couldn’t complete the transaction. How wonderful that it was so overloaded with Canadians’ generosity. If you gave up, please try again. Here’s the link.

Foodbanks’ needs will never go away and they’re necessary now more than ever. Remember that they can make a dollar go at least three times as far as each of us can. And thank you. Rob and I will be trying again today, too.

As always, it was wonderful to see our friend Rick Mercer at the top and tail of the show. But it was Jann Arden’s “Sleepless” that made me emotional. Memories of times with her, including her morning performance as we watched a ship on the horizon passing our winners’ resort in Jamaica in 2003. The sincerity and beauty with which she sang then as she did last night.

Just a feeling of joy and comfort, bringing me back to the theme of Saturday’s journal about the power of music. Oh, and speaking of weekend posts….

Thank you to each and every person who commented on FB yesterday about the social-distancing family bubble conundrum I wrote about in the journal. Most people have the same concerns about choice A or B that I did. Thankfully, for a lot of us, it hasn’t come to this.

But, oh, what I wouldn’t do to spend some real time with Colin and his sweet baby sister and parents! Just to cuddle and kiss and do the things we miss. Yesterday, Colin told us that when we come, we’ll watch Toy Story (definitely not called Toy Story 1, he reminds us). This is one of our favourite family traditions already. Thank you, Pixar.

Here at home, we’re wobbling on when to treat ourselves to the just-released second season of Ricky Gervais’ incredible – but far too short – Netflix offering After Life, wherein his character, Tony, has lost his wife of 25 years and decides to be as big a jerk as he can before he takes his own life.

It’s touching, funny, dirty and profane, and – like Ricky himself – definitely not for everyone. But we found ourselves in his character. The one who gradually comes to the realization, thanks to an older widow (played by the marvelous Penelope Wilton from Downton Abbey) with whom he spends time while they visit their respective spouses’ graves, that happiness is a gift.

It’s one that we are obliged to try to share with others to make their lives a little better. And that message is one that Rob and I have taken to heart for the past nearly five years. Every day we find ways to try to reclaim joy and to keep going, just as Tony’s wife encourages him to do through videos she shot without her husband’s knowledge while in the hospital, knowing she was not going to survive.

It’s that urging to go onward for those who remain; that question we often return to that I mention in the book: “Mom, what did you do with your life after I left?” that makes us work to find an answer that makes her proud and helps us find that happiness in every day.

Thanks for being here with me and I wish you a gentle, healthy Monday. Do something that makes you happy. Make your angels proud, too.

Just a thought… Smart people learn from everything and everyone, average people from their experiences, stupid people already have all of the answers. [Socrates]

Boy, does this situation give me questions! Here we go.

Rob was reading me a story yesterday and it got us both to thinking about the choices – and their aftermath – that could arise from this “new normal” for our neighbours down east.

In New Brunswick, they have taken a gradual step into returning to normal socializing. Here’s the move, expected to last some two to four weeks, and I’m going to be curious as to what your reaction is.

This big initiative involves the loosening of physical distancing restrictions with the allowing of two-household gatherings: people can choose one other household to partner with, to establish a “two-family bubble.” BUT it’s more complicated than it sounds: their choice must be mutual and, once they decide, they cannot choose a different household. “No take backs.”

Follow me here: once household A chooses to be with household B, the occupants of B cannot choose to partner or bubble with household C. It’s a two-way only arrangement. And remember, it HAS to be MUTUAL.

So here are some of the Solomon’s Choice issues that come up for us – see if they do for you.

Say we choose our Aunt and Uncle who live fairly close to us, and we ask them to become our B. We love them and they love us, but we don’t know for a fact that we’d be their B, if you know what I mean! They have longtime friends who live nearby and share their history, and are often in each other’s company.

So, if we chose them, it might very well place them in an awkward spot if they wanted to opt for someone else. We’d have to say, “Okay, no hard feelings,” suck it up and promise we’ll get together – which we have – as soon as this quarantining comes to an end.

All right. Then, say we choose our friends in Sidney, the oft-mentioned and much-loved Charles and Nancy. We miss them like crazy! But they have a daughter who lives nearby and she has children. Who wouldn’t choose a daughter and grandkids first? So…we’d get a big “no thanks” from them, too, after also putting them in an awkward position. Best not to ask, really.

Which leaves our solo friend, and who knows if we’d be her B. She would actually be farther up Charles and Nancy’s list than we would, and deservedly so, but she’d likely be pushed down by the aforementioned grandkids, too. So, we might all wonder why we were with someone when we weren’t their first choice.

It reminds me of the feeling in school when everyone had a “best friend.” I don’t think I was ever anyone’s bestie and whether that has to do with my own personality (LOL?) or the fact that I always just seemed to be parachuting into a new school as an armed forces kid, I don’t know.

But for what it’s worth, Rob says he was never anybody’s #1 either. Does this mean there are more people out there like us, or are we a special kind of loser, who happened to be drawn to our own kind? How lucky we are!

The choices being made by New Brunswickers (now marking several days without a new case of COVID-19) could put them in a different kind of uncomfortable situation as they face decisions that may, at worst, leave scars and, at best, need some explaining. Interestingly, this social experiment (which would make for a great book one day by someone, I’m sure, and I’d call it #Awkward) has already begun in New Zealand.

If you want to comment, please go to facebook.com/erindavispage so everyone can share.

Have a gentle day – don’t forget the special on all Canadian TV channels tonight featuring music and messages from homegrown celebrities in support of front line workers during the pandemic. There are sure to be some memorable moments and we join them all in unending – but thankfully not unsung – gratitude.

Just a thought… Music is the moonlight in the gloomy night of life. [Jean Paul Friedrich Richter]

It never ceases to amaze me what power music can have.

I know that sounds simplistic – who hasn’t felt better or sadder when a certain song came on the radio – but at no time has that thought been brought home more often than during the past seven days.

Last Friday here, our local station CHEK put together what they called a “living room concert for Vancouver Island.” Remarkably well done in every way, the 90-minute fundraiser, which was hosted by the news team (which is what seems to be a tight, friendly family themselves) the show featured performances from the names you see below, and a few messages from sponsors, celebrities and political leaders.

It was uplifting, entertaining and – although I hesitate to say it – more touching than the US show the following night for the WHO. We were mightily impressed by our local show; we turned it on thinking it would be a well-intentioned, hastily-assembled telethon (and not of Easter Seals-type quality), but we were flat out wrong. It was a great show and if you have the time, enjoy the show here.

I was struck by the incredible difference in yesterday’s Nova Scotia Remembers event. In theory, the two shows were similar: both were put together to share music and messages in a time of hardship.

But while Rock for Relief was a celebration of hope and inspiration, yesterday’s special nationwide broadcast which emanated from Nova Scotia was a virtual vigil to offer healing and solace in the wake of last weekend’s horrific murders in the province we’ve always known as Canada’s Ocean Playground.

There was one very similar, underlying theme though: gratitude. Here on our island, almost as far as one part of Canada gets from Nova Scotia, the plea last week was for generosity during these hard times for so many. There was also a loud message of gratitude to those who have given so much so that we can be safe and healthy during a pandemic.

But in the vigil yesterday we also saw gratitude: for the lives that each of these souls lived. For the sacrifice made by RCMP Constable Stevenson. For the comfort that Canadians and others around the world are sending at this time of unimaginable pain.

Through it all, the thread that wove each of these special presentations together was the healing power of music. Whether simply picking an acoustic guitar, playing the bagpipes on a sullen shore or singing while sitting at a piano, every person who contributed touched our hearts with their own gifts.

No one who saw – or sees this now – will forget this performance, though. Troy, Nova Scotia’s own Natalie MacMaster – long recognized as a Canadian and international fiddling treasure – played along with Emily Tuck, one of the victims of last week’s madness. You can watch it here.

The original recording of the 17 year-old, whose parents were also murdered, was made during what was called their “COVID Kitchen Party” in Portapique. So recent – and yet literally a lifetime ago. And though Emily now is gone, I hope that her extended family and fellow Nova Scotians find the same comfort in listening to her music that we have felt in the five years of hearing, over and over, our daughter’s sharing of her own gifts.

That is the power of music.