It’s the last Friday in May as I write, and snowflakes the size of toonies are whizzing by my Orangeville window. A little seasonal surprise after a day of sun and warmth just to remind us that we are in Canada and love the change of seasons. Not quite sure I’m in love with the seasons today but by the time you read this shorts and t-shirts will be the order of the day again.

The old joke goes “At my age I read the obituaries in the morning and if I don’t see my name in them, I carry on with my day”. Now that’s not how I plan my day, but I do read the obituaries -there are friends that need a word of comfort. Many end with some variation on “a celebration of the life of our beloved …. will be held at a later date when the pandemic is over”. Will the economy and our calendars be able to handle the rush of events and catering expenditure for this catch-up?

My diaries were subpoenaed by the defense attorney. A few years ago I was a crown witness in a sexual assault case and I was using notes from those diaries from 20 years before to inform my testimony. When the OPP officer handed me the subpoena I was rattled and felt nakedly exposed to the justice system.

We had seven shy Hydrangea plants guarding one side of our driveway. They were bushy and flowered, but the blooms remained hidden under leaf cover. After many consultations with our garden centre, we tried many different ways of pruning them at different times of year, but we never could release them from their shyness.

I thought my head was going to explode after listening to our Prime Minister rationalize his inaction and that of his subordinates and Minister of National Defence on behalf of victims of sexual misconduct in our Canadian military. Everyone tried to either know nothing or do nothing – while justifying it by some ethical code that defies humanity.