Friday, December 18, 2020

GRATITUDE

When I turned 56, I was going to write down something I was grateful for every day.  My mother had died nine days before her 56th birthday so I promised myself years ago I would embrace getting older because my mother never had the chance.  

I started writing on little slips of paper the day after my birthday, but that resolve lasted a week.  Instead, I am going to write a list of ALL the people I am grateful for having in my life especially when I went through some challenging times in 2019.


The best girlfriends:


Frances and Laura, for longevity, wisdom, fun and good advice.

Colette, for getting me out to art class, going to movies and never telling me to stop talking.

Marion,  for her kindness and generosity towards everything and everyone.

Lee-Anne,  for her incredible resilience and generosity.  Also for pres-screening all the babysitters and pre-schools I used.

Debbie, for her intelligence, kindness and understanding

Lynne and Margo, for being there for me my whole life.

Jessica, despite living in another country, staying a close friend.  She is s talented, loving and hard working.

Family

Jim, for always thinking I can do anything even when I am full of doubt.

Clea,  her incredible success and sense of fun inspires me daily.

Tracy, for helping people for 30 years and ALWAYS insisting on family group shots and diner lunches

Suzanne,  forever kind, patient, loving and thoughtful

My children, Bridget and Juliana, for making my life perfect.

My family in England,  always so welcoming and hospitable.

Uncle Lorne, for helping my little sister when she really needed it, and for his continued kindness, intelligence and gentle spirit.

Special Mentions

Kristi, for allowing me to do what I love: write for her podcast "Canadian True Crime".  Contacting her was life-changing for me.

Larry, for setting up this blog for me, reminding me of my superpower and helping me find work during a difficult time.

Annemarie at Ibiska for getting me into Project Administration and finally, making decent money.


-30-


Sunday, July 12, 2020

The Nanny State (AKA while I am in hospital may I PLEASE have some painkillers?)


The Nanny State

by Deirdre Bradley

I recently benefited from our wonderful health care system when I received a long needed knee replacement on June 18, 2020. After six years of excruciating pain and my efforts to reduce it (weight loss, massage therapy, acupuncture, cortisone), I was referred to the Joint Assessment and Rehabilitation Clinic at the Queensway Carleton Hospital. I was able to pick my surgery time frame (delayed, briefly by COVID-9) and my surgeon.

The pre-operation assessment is four hours long and thorough so the patient knows what to expect at every step. I was quizzed on lifestyle habits with an emphasis on making sure I was not an alcoholic or an illegal drug user.

With surgery comes pain. I am not afraid of pain – after having two babies, shutting my hand in the garage door was a “huh” moment. What I was not prepared for after my surgery was the difficulty in getting the pain medication I needed.

I had an epidural, a nerve block and a general anaesthetic. After two hours, I was awake with my new knee. I was admitted for a night because I could not stand when the physiotherapists arrived two hours after I woke up from surgery. You aren't allowed to leave until you can prove you can manage stairs with crutches or a walker.

I had to buzz for pain medication. I was not allowed to open my own blister pack. When all my freezing started coming off the day after my surgery I had to beg for pain medication – there was no way I was going to be able to do the crutch and stair routine without more. Thankfully, I received a pain injection and was able to “trot” off, do my physiotherapy then go home.

I had stashed chocolate in my bedroom drawer as an incentive for getting up the stairs. It worked. But the best part of coming home was having my medication at my finger tips.

My husband had the same experience after open heart surgery (aka CABG – Coronary arterial bypass graft). He had to beg his family doctor for more Tramadol a synthetic opiod that isn’t supposed to be addictive. Hospitals seems to think Tylenol is an adequate pain killer. After my babies were born I was told Tylenol with codeine would “constipate a horse” so I only got a little. Thankfully, baby number two was easier and ice and rest did the trick.

I have a medication I take for anxiety and panic attacks (neither of which have been bothering me lately) yet I can't renew that prescription ONE DAY early. It's exasperating.

I assume the reluctance to provide pain medication is a fear of creating addicts. I, like many others have read about the threat of oxycontin and fentanyl yet I don't know how an addict can be created in the hospital/post surgical environment when getting medication is like pulling teeth.

The problem is that post surgical patients are being caught up in new prescribing guidelines from the CDC and Health Canada intended to deal with incidents of addiction in those patients with chronic, as compared to short-term post-surgery or post-traumatic injury. The innocent suffer greatly because the CDC did not differentiate between chronic pain and acute pain management. It has since changed its tune.

“The authors of the 2016 guidelines — Dr. Deborah Dowell and Tamara Haegerich of the CDC, and Dr. Roger Chou of Oregon Health and Science University — said in their new essay the recommendations were not meant to be used to withhold drugs from people who need them, and outlined instances of their misapplication. “ (https://www.statnews.com/2019/04/24/cdc-opioid-prescribing-guidelines-misapplied/)

It has been two weeks since my surgery and I rarely need the “good” drug (my hydromorphone). I am grateful I can put weight on a leg that for the longest time felt like it was stuffed with razor blades and fire. Like most people I just want to get on with my life, not spend it stoned out of my mind.

- 30 -

Sunday, May 31, 2020

A Murder in Barrhaven - 2005


The Murder of Jennifer Teague

by Deirdre Bradley

Barrhaven is a subdivision in the southwest corner of Ottawa, Ontario. It is the type of neighborhood where people feel safe raising their children. It is known by the nick names Farrhaven, Baby-haven and Barbecue Haven. Like many suburbs it has a mix of town houses, single family homes, strip malls and big box stores. Home to many families Barrhaven has a nursing home, a city run Sportsplex and numerous schools . Jan Harder, has been it's representative on City Council for 21 years.

While part of the city of Ottawa, Barrhaven is set apart from the main urban centre by a wide swath of undeveloped land, farm land and forests known collectively as the greenbelt. The greenbelt offers hiking trails, an off-leash dog park and an opportunity for people to experience nature only a short distance from their homes. Most greenbelt facilities are considered day-use and only the main roads have even minimal lighting.

Barrhaven Town Centre has the requisite grocery store, Shoppers Drug Mart and Bed Bath and Beyond. Wendy's is one of the fast food chains in that mall. Jennifer Teague worked there part-time.

Jennifer Teague was born to Ed and Jean Teague on June 30, 1987. She had two older brothers, Kevin and Carey. Her parents had moved to Ottawa the year before when Ed was posted there by the military.

Ed and Jean divorced. Jean, a civil servant, and their three children moved into a home she purchased a short walk from Barrhaven Town Centre. Ed remarried and lived nearby. Ed Teague remained close to his three children.

The kids squabbled among themselves like all kids,” Mrs. Teague told The Citizen in 2005, “but if someone did anything to any of them, the other two were right there for protection, including Jenny.”

Jennifer attended the Elizabeth Wyn Wood Alternative high school. She liked the smaller classes and flexible approach to education. There she joined an environmental group called “Earthcare” and travelled to local elementary schools to talk about conservation. The group later won a prize from the David Suzuki Foundation.

Jennifer held a series of part-time jobs. Like many teenagers she loved to shop and play video games. Her mother said they often would pick the same pair of shoes to try on at the local Winners then laugh about it. She played baseball and soccer and was working at the local Wendy’s, planning to use her next cheque to pay for shots for her kitten, Michael.

On September 7, 2005, Jennifer worked the late shift at Wendy's. She left shortly after midnight. One of her co-workers, Mark, walked her part-way home, then she met a friend, Alicia Blais, at the local Mac's Milk. At around 1:00 am, Alicia and Jennifer parted ways. Jennifer began the 10 minute walk home. Somewhere along the way, she vanished.

When Ottawa Police Detective Greg Brown took the call about Jennifer's disappearance, he had a bad feeling right from the start. Her cell phone had been turned off and there was no banking activity. The Ottawa Police service launched a massive search. A command post was set up in the parking lot of a local church and 120 officers plus volunteers conducted a grid to grid search over the three kilometre area near the disappearance. A nearby baseball diamond was used as a helicopter pad. Friends and family distributed missing person posters around the neighbourhood, Police divers scanned the Jock River and ditches were searched.

Residents were gripped with fear. Barrhaven had not experienced major criminal activity. Nothing like this had happened in the community

The police had two suspects. The first was her co-worker, Mark, who had walked Jennifer part-way home from Wendy's. They had been told that he had a “thing” for Jennifer. He also had scratches on his face.

Mark was read his rights and interrogated. He took and passed a polygraph. He was embarrassed by the scratches on his face which he said were due to a faulty razor, which he supplied to the police. After passing his polygraph, he was eliminated as a suspect.

The second suspect, Boris, was a young man who had driven past Jennifer and her friend while they were sitting outside the Mac's Milk parking lot. Jennifer had given him the finger and the police were wondering if he had retaliated. He was a boy from her high school who did not have a good reputation. They interviewed him and found out his ex girlfriend had a restraining order against him and that there was a broken window in his car. He took a polygraph and was also eliminated as a suspect.

Jennifer's family were also questioned and cleared of any involvement.

After six days the search was scaled back to seven officers. They had come to the end of their resources with no forensic evidence or sign of Jennifer.

The Lime Kiln trail is one of the many trails in the greenbelt maintained by
the National Capital Commission. It’s path leads to one of the few remaining examples of a 19th century Lime Kiln. It was restored in 1999 and has since become a popular hiking trail with 4 kilometres available for walkers and nature lovers. It is 8.4 kilometres from where Jennifer disappeared.

On September 18, 2005, ten days after Jennifer's disappearance, off duty police officer Kevin Wilcox, was jogging on the trail at Lime Kiln. He smelled something distinct – a human body decaying. He found Jennifer buried in the brush. The only piece of forensic evidence found was a silver earring she had been wearing the night she disappeared. Lead detective Brown was contacted. When he saw the body, he wept.

A forensics tent was set up but not near the exact location. Detective Brown did not want the media to report the exact location of the body.

Ed Teague wanted to identify his daughter but he was informed that she was so badly decomposed that her identity could not be confirmed visually. Her body was sent to the coroner in Toronto, Ontario.

On September 29, Jennifer's body was released from the crime lab after extensive testing. Time and cause of death could not be determined. On October 1, the funeral was held at Cedarview Alliance Church. Five hundred mourners attended.

The pressure from the community and the media was relentless. The police canvassed the sex offender’s registry and were in touch with police departments across Canada and the United States.

Police were concerned that there may be a serial killer at work as Jennifer resembled another young woman who had disappeared in Orleans, a subdivision in the east end of Ottawa, two years earlier.

On August 6, 2003, 27 year old Ardeth Wood, a graduate student at the University of Waterloo, was visiting her parents in Orleans, a subdivision in the east end of Ottawa. Shortly after noon she told her mother she was going biking and would be home in a few hours. After failing to return her mother reported her missing. A massive search operation was mounted by the Ottawa Police Service and what would later lead to a Canada-wide two year man hunt.

Witness information lead to the Green Creek near the mouth of the Ottawa River where Ardeth had last been seen. On August 10, 2003, her submerged bicycle was found. On August 11, her body was found near the shoreline metres from where the bicycle was located. Her cause of death was drowning.

Police were informed there had been a male on the bike path between June and the time of Ardeth's murder who was approaching women.

Chris Myers was arrested on October 20, 2005 for her murder. Detective Brown's hopes were raised then dashed when it was discovered that he had been in North Bay, 356 kilometres away at the time of Jennifer's disappearance and was eliminated as a suspect. The Ottawa Police were back at square one with no suspect, forensics or witness to the abduction.

The Wendy's where Jennifer had worked offered a $50,000 award for any information on her disappearance. On April 10, 2006, the police doubled that amount.

On May 24, 2006, video images from the Mac's Milk surveillance camera from the night Jennifer disappeared were released. Police were doing every thing they could to keep the case in the forefront of peoples' minds, and, most of all, the killers who they assumed would be following the case.

Police conducted what is called a consent search to keep the story in the news. Officers went door to door to homes in Barrhaven to speak with residents and inspect their homes.

On June 9, 2006, days after the surveillance photos were published, 24 year old Kevin Davis stripped naked and ran onto Fallowfield Road, one of Barrhaven's major arterials, yelling that he had killed Jennifer Teague. Davis had consumed 10 grams of psilocybin – magic mushrooms. Detective Brown was anxious to speak with him but Davis was being treated for an overdose in an Ottawa hospital under the mental health act. A week later he recanted the confession claiming the constant information on the case and the drugs had caused him to make a false statement. He said the night Jennifer disappeared he was playing video games with a friend, Nick. This alibi could not be proven because Nick had recently been in a car accident and claimed amnesia from a head injury. Davis' mother said he was home when she went to bed the night of the disappearance and was home when she woke up the next morning.

The police kept up the pressure because Kevin's home was near Jennifer's and she would have walked past it on that fateful night.

On June 26, 2006 Davis left his Orr street home in Barrhaven and confessed to the murder a second time to an off duty police officer. “What if I told you something that could make you famous?”.

This time he was not hallucinating. He was taken to the police station where he was read his rights. He waived his right to see a lawyer saying he needed to get it off of his chest.

Detective Brown wanted to make the confession iron clad for court and asked Davis for proof. They did a re-enactment of the night of the crime, driving to the location where Davis had abducted Jennifer. He chose her because the street was poorly lit. He forced her into his car with a hunting knife then took her home. Davis said he had been looking for a girl to abduct for weeks. He felt that girls had hurt him in the past and he wanted to hurt one back.

Davis blindfolded Jennifer and tied her hands behind her back. Jennifer said she had to leave because her mother would be worried. Davis strangled her while his mother slept in the next room. She had sleep apnea and took sleeping medication. He wrapped her in his grandmother's quilt, put her in the trunk of his mother’s cars and drove to the Lime Kiln Trail.

Davis was able to identify exactly where the body had been discovered. He also knew the position she had been found in – face down. This was crucial as it had been information held back from the public because only the killer would know it. Detective Brown had his confession. He had spent many late nights working on this case which had taken time from his own family. His wife was pregnant during the investigation with a baby girl.

On June 27, 2006, Davis was arrested and charged with first degree murder. On November 28, 2007 he was ordered to stand trial for first degree murder. On January 8 2008, his lawyer said he would plead guilty to first degree murder. This is rare in the criminal justice system.

On January 25, 2008 the Teague family and friends faced Davis in court. He pled guilty to the first degree murder of Jennifer Teague. He described how he abducted her from Jockvale Road near the Via train tracks, took her home, strangled her, wrapped up her body then dumped her a few kilometres away on the trail. Jennifer's mother wept when she heard her daughters last words were that she needed to go home because her mother would worry. Everyone in the court room cried. Everyone, except Davis.

Mr. Teague kept eye contact with him the entire time trying to get some sense that Jennifer's killer felt any remorse for his crime. He did not. Mr. Davis did not have any prior offences just this one act of senseless rage and violence towards an innocent young woman. The only relief for the family was they were spared a lengthy trial.

Since the murder Jean Teague has difficulty enjoying the things she used to do like shopping, hockey pools and Christmas and birthday celebrations. Each Christmas the family buys an ornament for Jennifer for the tree. They are kept together to give to the first granddaughter. Her brothers miss their sister terribly and her friends have nightmares and difficulty sleeping.


Wendy's and other fast food chains now offers taxi fare to staff working the late shift.

Councillor Jan Harder said that people should be more aware of their neighbours.

Jennifer Teague - Jenny to her family, Jen to her friends would be 33 now. No one knows what she would have done with her life as all of her wonderful potential was never be realized due to the senseless act of a madman.

-30-

References: Jennifer Teague, Wikipedia
The Detectives, Season 2, “The Walk Home”
The Ottawa Citizen

Very little is online about the killer. This was his only brush with the law.

.











Saturday, May 23, 2020

Lockdown Skills

The first few days of the lockdown were the most difficult.  I baked.  I stress ate. I cried in the shower.  After a few days I got a grip and started giving myself daily activities.  I started writing again.  A friend had set up a blog for me a few years ago and I started posting weely.  I cleaned things that hadn't been cleaned in years. 

I  taught myself ZOOM.  I  took an online course through Meetups - a great place to find information on ANYTHING.I

My husband needs weekly injections.  I grew up watching my sister take insulin shots every day so this new task didn't bother me.  I had been trained to give injections years ago when my mother was on the trial drug, interferon.  I can now, for the most part, give painless injections.


I had to stop baking with the exception of muffins.  My metabolism has slowed down and I just can't eat many treats any more.  Instead, I take daily six feet apart walks with one of my friends behind Bell High School in the west end of Ottawa.  We have parking lot lunches at the local Wendys and an independet Greek restaurant, Athens Grill.

Friday night has been designated Boston Pizza night.  They now make a thin crust pesto pizza with arugula that is really good for a chain!

My biggest indulgence is podcasts.  I am totally addicted.  I HATE housework but find once I plug my beloved bluetooth into my phone I can listen to:   Imagine Life, Even the Rich, We Regret to Inform You, Someone Knows something to name a few of my favourites while I scrub, clean and dust.  "Chasing Cosby" took me through an entire ensuite bathroom.  "The Prodfather" another.  I learn while I clean and my mind stays engaged. The best part of podcasts is people can still produce them during quarantine.  My family has started calling me the "Pod zombie" because once my blue tooth is on, I am in my own world.

There was some drama when one of my dogs went after the cat and his tooth got knocked out.  It turns out the cat's tooth was rotting anyways.  It was mostly fur and noise but he got checked out and animal peace rules again here.

I  have a long list of things I can't wait to do. First, of course, is get back to work (I may have a work at home job starting next week I am just waiting for details).  When we finally get released I want a haircut, pedicure, drinks on a patio, a trip to the movies and most of all HUGS from all the people I love/like.

-30-

Thursday, May 21, 2020

We Were Five



We Were Five

Frances, Scott, Laura, Andrew and I were what is now called a squad.  We were always together.

I  met Laura in 1971 when she appeared on my doorstep the day I moved into our subdivision after Bell Canada had transferred my father from Toronto to Ottawa.  We ended up in the same schools until we graduated from high school.  I met Frances that year but deemed her “too bossy” to be my friend-- until 1976 when she became an official best friend.  Scott and Andrew joined us when we were all selected for Grade six French Immersion.  Back then it was an experimental program and the first participants' names were drawn from a hat.

 Laura and Scott were the brains. Frances was our Queen bee. Andrew and I were the funny ones. Christmas involved a gift exchange and sparkling wine.  High school graduation and prom meant a shared table so those of us without dates (me, Scott and Andrew – both half in the closet and me just out of a relationship) still went and had a blast. Birthdays involved at least a cake or a restaurant meal. 

I was lucky because if there was no one special in my life there was always someone to dance with and go out on New Year’s Eve. Andrew and I spent a lot of time together – out at Rocky Horror or dancing in gay bars.  When we were home from university for the summer we spent hours at a local roadhouse drinking coffee.  

After graduating from University we both settled back on Ottawa. We had both met people and started regular rotating dinner parties.   He was an only child so occasionally his mother still cooked for him.  One night we dropped the casserole on the floor and had to order pizza.

The day after I got engaged I kept our shopping date and we went to the Rideau Centre. We had so much fun!  I bought a fancy dress and we had lunch at a pub.

It was a bittersweet time when I was planning my wedding.  My mother had been diagnosed with colon cancer which had spread to her liver.  Jim's mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer and died two months before our wedding.

One night we were at Andrew and John's for dinner and I went into the cupboard to find sweetener for my coffee.  Instead, I found AZT.  That was one of the original drugs to treat HIV infection.

I told my husband of my find when we got home.  Ever the protector he said:

"Maybe he was just holding it for a friend".

A sweet gesture but we both knew it wasn't true.

The next time Andrew and I got together we were walking through little Italy - one of the best parts of his neighbourhood was the pastry and gelato shops and fantastic restaurants.  He knew I saw his pills.  He told me he didn't want to cause me stress when my mother was dying and that he had been diagnosed when he and John decided to move in together.

My first daughter, Bridget, was born in 1996.  Andrew and his new partner, Peter, bought her an outfit from Baby Gap.  Andrew and John had broken up. John was still in the closet and Andrew tired of being presented as "the roommate" while his parents repeatedly tried to set him up with women.  He moved into his own apartment for a year then later joined Peter in Toronto.

I was able to visit Andrew often with Bridget. He got frailer and frailer.  One night he went to sleep and didn't wake up.  He died later in hospital from meningitis, one of the many opportunistic infections that happens when HIV turns to full-blown Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS).

I lost a lot when Andrew died.  Andrew was one of the only people in my life who never told me to "calm down" or stop talking.  He was funny, kind and devoted to his friends.  He also did not want to hide the fact he had HIV/AIDS and made sure his obituary had the real cause of death.

Andrew's parents were devasted.  He had been their whole life. Joan was alone for many years after her husband, Pat died of a heart attack. We went out for lunch on a regular basis.  Sometimes I brought my two girls.  They had never had the grandmother experience so Joan called herself Nana Joan and bought them Christmas gifts every year.  After she died her niece gave me the ruby AIDS pin Joan had designed by a local jeweller.

Some people are taken from us too soon.  Life isn't fair but one of the many lessons I learned from Andrew was to live life with integrity and above all, humour.  Together we could quote every single Monty Python sketch.  Everywhere we went together, we laughed.

I miss him every day.

-30-

Thursday, April 30, 2020

The Interview

It was Christmas Eve day and I was frazzled.  I had misplaced an entire bag of Christmas presents. The peaceful day I had planned was replaced by a 7:00 am race to the local mall.  I had to be home by 9:00 am  for a job interview with my cousin, Ian Campbell, who worked at Agriculture Canada.

The girls believed in Santa, which is why the Hannah Montana barbie dolls, stocking stuffers, and Christmas socks were hung from a nail in the garage. Or so I thought. On the previous day, I had planned to lock myself in my bedroom wrap gifts while the girls played with their friends then clean the house. The bag was gone.  I had a complete meltdown.

I replaced the missing gifts then waited for the phone to ring.

"So, how did you get my resume?",  I asked.

"Well these things happen. It just came across my desk".

Ian asked for my qualifications and I rattled them off with machine gun speed.  There was no way my cousin could hire me, wouldn't that be conflict of interest? I rhymed off my computer, language and office skills.  Ian asked if I had anything to add.

"Oh yes! My sister told me not to show up drunk."

There was a pregnant pause.

"How do I know you?"

Come on Ian, it's your cousin! Deirdre!"

"I don't have any Bradley cousins".

That was the moment it dawned on me.  There was more than one Ian Campbell at Agriculture Canada.  If fact, there were three.

I ended the call, absolutely mortified.  I wouldn't bother telling the temp agency how badly it went.  I called my husband right away. He couldn't stop laughing.

"At least", he said, "If he does hire you, he'll know what you're like."

He did hire me.  The agency called back and offered me a position beginning in the New Year. 

Working for Ian Campbell, Director at Agriculture Canada ended up being one of the best contracts I ever had.  He was kind, funny and understanding.  When my father had a heart attack he encouraged me to take all the time I needed to visit him.  He also didn't mind the odd absence due to sick children.

I made Ian's travel arrangements  for trips all across the country and to Japan to discuss the implications of climate change on agriculture.  I even got a farewell lunch - something that is rare for office temporaries.

People say be yourself.

Sometimes, it actually works.

-30-

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Lockdown

If I had known my last restaurant meal was going to be at a diner, I would have had the eggs benedict instead of scrambled eggs and dry toast.  Then again, once the state of emergency was declared I put on five pounds the first week, so maybe my choice was a good one.

I had just finished a crazy busy job where I was getting up at 5:30 am, working from 7:30 - 3:30 and often staying late when the administrative team went from three people to just me.  When my contract ended I did a mini three-night get-away.  A few days later, the walls closed in.

So here I am at home.  My contract is on hold.  My daughters and I are off work.  One finished her university degree online, the other just started a new course.  My husband is the family workhorse toiling away in his upstairs office. 

I try to stay busy by planning daily projects, walks, and parking lot lunches with one of my friends. We park side by side at the local Wendys for take out salad.  Sometimes we splurge and go to the Greek place.  These meetings are my lifeline-as an extrovert I am climbing the walls.

The pets - two dogs and a cat - are getting LOTS of attention.  Corners of my home long neglected are now clean.  My blouses are lined up by sleeve length.  The baby diaries might finally get updated.

Weight gain, online shopping, shower sobbing and finally acceptance has been my COVID-19 journey.  Despite all the free time it took me a while to get motivated to do the things that I need to get done: write, read and, most important: get my roots touched up.  Thankfully my older daughter is good with hair since we can't see the hairdresser we all share.

Yesterday's entertainment was taking months of empties back to The Beer Store.  The atmosphere in the lineup was strangely festive.  Noticing my limp (no new knee until the lockdown is over) three people from the line up helped me with my boxes and getting me a cart.  I am grateful for any social interaction.

The thing that is helping me stay mentally active (and sane!!!!) are the podcasts I listen to.  I can put on my earphones and listen to a variety of stories and voices while I perform the most mind-numbing house cleaning tasks.  These friends in my help will hold me over - until the day I can see my real ones again.

-30-.


Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Dreamy Days

When my girls, Bridget and Juliana, were young we spent our summers at Eagle Lake.  After the end of school celebrations, we would pack up the car with food, toys, videos and Bandit, the dog, and head to the cottage.

One summer I had to talk them out of packing all of their Christmas movies.

"But mum!", exclaimed Bridget

"We just love Christmas so much!"

So do I, but not in July.  We compromised by taking one: "Barbie's Christmas".  All those pastel colours and shrill voices did not remind me of Christmas at all.

In the mornings, after breakfast, we would pack up our beach bag, toys and snacks and drive (sometimes canoe) to the public beach. There were always other families there.  The girls always had beach playmates and I was able to squeeze in reading between dips in the lake. Nothing was better than jumping off the dock into deep water on a hot day.

One summer a woman was at the beach with a basket up puppies.  She said they were going to the shelter if she couldn't find homes for them.  My sister had just moved to Calgary with her new husband and their dogs and I missed them all terribly.  We had talked about getting our own dog as we had developed a love of the dog park, Bruce Pit, in Ottawa.  Bandit the puppy came home with us that day and he has been ours for 16 years.  The cottage is still his favourite place where he can roam free and always find his way home.

Sometimes we would stop for popsicles at the local corner store, or go to the Treasure Trunk - a charity shop - for second-hand books and games. The "Junction Diner" sold ice cream diner lunches with discounted closes from Sears in the corner.  IT was local hang-out.

At night we would cuddle up in the queen size futon and watch a movie.  Last person standing - usually Juliana- shut if off.  I still have fond memories of Shrek-we watched it nightly one dreamy summer.


I am grateful for all those sun-soaked (and, occasionally) rainy days.  Memories are made to look back on and sometimes you don't realize how wonderful they are while you are living them.  One day your daughter is asking to be picked up, the next she is driving off in your car, ducking your kisses so her hair doesn't get mussed.

Cottage time is different now that we are all adults. We still love it. We might not all sleep in the futon now but it is our gathering place and still a place of love and joy.

-30-

Monday, March 9, 2020

Pittsburgh

My husband and I had driven to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania for the long May weekend.   We had met Tom and Jess many years ago (before children) when we were vacationing in the Bahamas.  We clicked right away and they are one of the few couples we enjoy doing things with. 

Jess and Tom are very active in their Lutheran church - Tom's father was a pastor.  They had a wedding to attend on Saturday so Jess asked one of her friends, Jane if she could play a tour guide in their absence.

Jane was really nice and we hit it off right away.  It was a beautiful sunny day so we headed to an outdoor shopping mall.  We couldn't do anything in the downtown core that weekend like the Warhol museum.  Tim McGraw was in town and all the parking spots were full.

It was one of the first gorgeous sunny Spring days.  Jane and I were walking around while Jim was in a men's clothing store.  We spotted a woman walking towards us with what looked like a puppy, so we stopped to pat it.

"He's hot.  He's been in the car", the dog owner said.

Jane and I approached then realized there was something off about the "dog".

"It's a fox", the woman explained.

It was a fox. A fox that was not moving and had a glad red eye.  It was a taxidermy fox.

Suitably creeped out, Jane and I did not pat the dead fox but backed away as politely as we could.  We retreated into one of the nearby shops to regroup  Apparently the woman, her companion and the dead fox had been kicked out of many stores that morning for carrying around a dead animal.  She referred to it as her service fox.

Later we stopped off at an ice cream shop that had a chocolate castle and home made treats.

Pittsburg is a really nice city.

-30-

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

The Circus

It was the early nineteen seventies and the circus was coming to town.  My sister and I begged my mother to go with the usual chorus of:

"All our friends are going!".

My mother did not approve of animals being made to do tricks for people but when she found out there would be no animal acts she relented.  We were so excited!

Back then Ottawa did not have a lot of performance venues so most outings like the Ice Capades and the Circus went to Landsdowne Park.  That part of town was central to our lives because it was also near the only shopping mall we could get to from our subdivision on one bus.

The week the circus came to town  my sister and I sat spellbound in our seats.  There was the usual parade of clowns but the centrepiece of this show was the trapeze act.  We watched as lithe men and women performed tricks mid-air. and walked the tightrope.  There was a safety net underneath the ropes but not the platform.

At one point during the performance we heard a loud crack.  One of the polls that held the tight rope jolted and the trapeze artist standing on the platform fell backwards onto the cement floor.

There was a hushed silence.  Then a voice called out through a megaphone:

"Is there a doctor in the house"?

The lights went up and the performance, for that night, was halted.  The Circus resumed performances the next night.  My friends who saw it told us how the show was supposed to end with the strong men spinning the trapeze artists in his arms, somehow carrying them all.

We found out later the trapeze artist broke her back and was paralyzed from the waist down.  The local paper ran a follow-up story a year after the accident.  She was a smiling, pretty blonde, coping as best she could with her disability.

We lost any desire for circus performances after that.  I am just grateful the Cirque du Soleil has no animal acts - and lots of safety equipment.

-30-

Friday, February 28, 2020

Piece of Cake



PIECE OF CAKE

On the last day at what was supposed to have been my dream job, one of the Senior Vice Presidents swept into the office and dropped a small panettone cake and a thank you card on my desk. 

I had started working at a lobby group a few months earlier.  It was an organization devoted to making rich people richer.  Members were heavy hitters in Canadian business and industry.  Staff included a former Deputy Prime Minister, a long term writer for Macleans magazine and a retired diplomat.  I had two Vice Presidents to take care of, an easy going Economist from the East Coast. aa gifted PhD from Oxford who was routinely the smartest person in the room.    I developed a friendly, professional rapport with the economist.

Every day I straightened my hair, put on my nicest clothes and did my best to fit in.   I kept my desk clean.  My screen saver had a tasteful picture of Highclere Castle.    Usually I try to befriend co-workers but the demeanour at this office was so conservative I figured I better hold back until I was on full time.  I did imagine lunch get togethers in the board room at some point.
Sadly, I was woefully unprepared.  Assembling a briefing binder for the President’s week long  trip to the World Economic forum in Tianjin, China while printing stationary for the member’s meeting in Montreal kept me from getting to know my Vice Presidents' schedules and priorities in those crucial early weeks. What I thought were normal growing pains in a new position turned into a series of critical errors in judgment.  An inbox went idle for a month before it was pointed out to me.   A trip to Mexico was extended for a day without proper authority. All on me. Stupid, stupid, stupid mistakes.

I thought it was my turn for a break and somehow the forces in the world that reward a job well done or suffering were on my side.  I had faced income drop in my sector and almost two years of minimal employment.  My husband had his contracting hours cut.  Just when were finally pulling ourselves out of a deep hole he had a heart attack and bypass surgery.  We had already gone into our war chest once to keep above water –there was no new one.  He went back to work less than a month after surgery (if he had a job with benefits he would have qualified for six months sick leave and been able to attend cardiac rehabilitation at the Heart Institute).  It was time for me to lean in, get my act together and get a proper job with benefits to cover all our new prescriptions.

When a lone gunman caused havoc on October 22 2014 (my most memorable birthday since boys were allowed at my party!),  I found myself  in lock down as my office was in ground zero - a  short walk from the cenotaph.  My co-workers and I ceased working and were glued to the news while watching the streets clear of people then fill with black SUV,s and well armed police officers.

 Eric was evacuated to a gelato shop during his attempt to buy lunch on the ground floor.  When I reunited him with his blackberry, coat and laptop he bought me a birthday gelato and thanked me for informing his wife that he was safe. Finally, I thought. I belong.

Three days later I was reprimanded for making errors.    I had been there two and a half months.  My probation was extended.  My desk was moved.  Nothing is harder to fix than a bad first impression.
Susan called me into her office six weeks later and informed me while I had made a dramatic improvement, it still wasn’t enough.   She asked me to remain as a temporary until Christmas eve. I still had four more days on payroll and after the weekend I informed the office manager I would not be able to stay on an extra two weeks.  I was exhausted.  I had barely smiled in weeks, prepared a proper meal or slept.  All I had done was gone in early, stayed late and pasted a smile on my face hoping I could keep my golden ticket.   The hardest part was withdrawing from the staff Christmas party.  I had always wanted to go to one where I was actually on staff.
So there I was on Bank Street on a  cold December day, clutching the last of my belongings, wishing I had brought a bag…..wondering why life IS SO UNFAIR.  And, of course, life isn’t fair but once in a while….wouldn’t it be great if it was?

Thursday, February 27, 2020

A Wonderful Terrible Job

On April 1, 2019,  I began a job at local University that looked promising.  It was working for a research organization. I thought my dream of a permanent job had finally come true.  The institute was the brain child of a  professor who wanted to do something meaningful with the last  few years of her career: create an organization that would study ageing and help seniors world-wide live longer, healthier lives.

I wanted to become one of those indispensable assistants that is the bosses left hand.   Instead, it was a nightmarish experience of cascading failures ending with me being handed my letter of termination twelve weeks after I started with the words unsatisfactory performance burning my eyes as I read them.

The first red flag I ignored was the lack of new employee orientation.  The human resources department had suggested the professor put some time aside to train me.    She told me she had no time to do this but I figured the online training I was offered would suffice and I would just figure out the rest.  As an office temporary,  I was used to parachuting into roles and having to adjust quickly.

The institute had seven different programs on the go.  I wrote the names of them all on a white board and tried to figure them out.  Meetings were chaotic.  Complete agenda's weren't shared and three meetings were wasted discussing menu plans for a group dinner.

I was using unfamiliar technology -ZOOM and doodle polls.  I had the computer of my predecessor which, according to the bosses Phd student, had a virus.

Red flag number two was the organization did not have a structure.  There was no board of directors, mandate or meeting schedule.  I had worked with associations and institutes before, but without a structure you're left trying to nail jello to a wall.

The third red flag was the first major meeting with international stakeholders.  The hotel and meeting rooms were booked less than four months before the event right over the Canada day holiday when hotel prices are at their peak.  The guest list was not set and people were still being invited two weeks before the actual event despite there being a finite number of hotel rooms.

Red flag number four was the finance department  refused to help me.  Part of my job was tracking budgets.  I had two budgets to monitor and prepare travel claims in the University system called Concur. My boss had made a trip to New York City shortly after I started and I was having trouble preparing her claim having only had online training.   I was berated for phoning  the finance deparment too often to ask for help.

On my last week I had finally completed the claim and figured out some other forms, but it was too late.

The final straw for my boss was when she asked me to change the meeting room for our first board meeting at the last minute. Three of the members received cancellation notices and didn't attend.  I didn't know how to set up the audio/visual equipment because I had not been trained yet on that type of boardroom. The meeting went on but the damage was done.

On June 12, 2019 I was summoned into my bosses office and handed the letter of termination and a taxi chit.. I took them back to my office to look at later. For the first time in my life I had a private office with a key and I had decorated it from tip to toe with pictures and my own reference books.  I turned on a podcasat and decided to take my time packing up. As I was walking down the hall with my bags (I was too mortified to ask for boxes) I could hear my shoes flip flopping on the tile floors.  Like my shoes, the job just didn't fit.

-30-