Confession - A Catholic’s Nightmare (can be) (Pastoral)

Confession is a requirement in the Roman Catholic Tradition. It has changed though from the past. Now instead of telling each and every individual sin, you may confess to a theme. You may also do it once a year. So this Easter season, I was talking to a friend of mine and she wanted to know when I was going to confession. “7:00 o’clock,” I told her and she replied that she would meet me there. I went to my Parish church earlier so I could get my thoughts in order and think of my theme. I always say I do not have patience. The last priest which I blogged about told me that I needed to be more patient with myself so I could be so with others. That made a lot of sense to me. This time I had an entirely different experience with the same sin (plus one). I sat myself in the pew to ponder my sins. I have been so busy that I have not really had time to sin. However, knowing I am far from perfect, I must have sinned, so how did I sin? The Pastor stood at the front and in the Portuguese language talked much. I thought he would say the same in English but that did not happen. I felt lost not being able to hear anything in English. I asked someone seated behind me what he said, but she did not speak English. I was wondering if I was going to be able to say anything else besides me having no patience again. That was beginning to sound dull, even to me. I must add something this year, I pondered in the English language. The Pastor left and returned to say that there would be Priests coming and that Italian would be heard from him at the back (in the confessional stall) and Portuguese would be heard at the front. English would be heard as well. I remained seated thinking about my sins. Is that really a sin I asked my self? No, I told myself, it is not. As I sat there contemplating of the entire method of confession, Priests began piling in. There was an Asian Priest and a long line quickly formed at the right front side of the church. No one was going to the Pastor. I followed suit to the Portuguese line. As I stood in line, I saw my friend enter the church. She was looking for me and I waved like an idiot for her to see me. She does a lot of work in the Church. She is a good person. Her sin is not having enough fun. Another priest comes in, a tall man, I later learn is Polish. She goes to him at the front left side of the Church and in no time, she is seen. I notice that people from the Centre seem to be moving fairly fast. There is an African Portuguese Priest who I thought was Canadian but boy was I mistaken. I notice that my line is not progressing and that another Priest has entered and is at the back centre. The centre line is almost empty and so I join the shorter line. I now see the other priest who is at the back near the altar and is very close to a person confessing. He has a very kind and serene type of face and is middle aged, older than the rest. Both he and the confessor are seated. The other priests at the front all have a mobile kneeling post for the sinner to kneel on. The priests however sit. This is very different from what I am used to. I am used to sitting. I have gone back into time. I see the Asian Priest assisting the elderly people to rise and kneel in front of him. He picks up an elderly woman’s purse to assist her. He is uncomfortable and I notice he is thinking of giving her his seat, as he looks back at his seat. He is compassionate. However, he cannot give her his seat. Where would he go? He cannot kneel before her. I am next and go to the African Priest and kneel. The Priest behind him at the back has a chair for the sinners but someone is still with him. I have forgotten when I last confessed and do not want to lie. He asks me if I speak Portuguese. I say no and ask if that is a problem. He says his English is not fluent but I do not guess that at all. I tell my sin of not being patient and throw in that I get angry some times. Then I hear it. I get a first experience of a different perspective from the last Canadian Priest. He begins to instruct me with Jesus always being patient and I am to continue in rote. I know what he wants to hear so I finish his sentences. I am responding in rote from my early childhood. He wants me to complete his sentences that Jesus is patient with me and therefore I should be patient with others. He is referring to the new Testament and what I really want to say is that Jesus was always getting mad. How can he not with the fools he had to deal with. However, I am visible to all the people in the Church. I have said my two sins and I am there forever getting a lecture. He then gives me my penance. “I want you to spend 10 or 15 minutes thinking about God etc…..”I am pleased. My penance is just spending time with God for 10 or 15 minutes. I do that anyway. I was hoping for a Hail Mary but this will do. Then he continues, “ and every day I want you also before you go to bed etc……and everyday before you open your mouth, I want you to think……” I say my Act of Contrition and he forgives me for my sins I am sure and all the ones I forgot, I am sure because that would be the routine, but of course I cannot understand because it is not in English.” I join my friend and she tells me she has to say the rosary which she does not mind because she does that anyway. I am in shock and told her I have penance for a year and stress the part about thinking before opening my mouth each time I open it. “What would be my penance if I killed someone!” I cry out rhetorically She is amused and I see her laugh which is good because she had to go to a funeral the day before which saddened her. My penance is amusing her. I do normally spend time every morning with God and normally when I go to sleep. However, to think every time before I open my mouth? That is not possible. I don’t know if he misunderstood me or if he thought I need anger management and this was his way of trying to help me with it. If I ever see this Priest again, I would certainly approach him and tell him what I really thought about Jesus and how he got mad. I would also say that it was the man part of him. Does God get mad? I am not God. I am only a mere person. Of course I get mad! What did this teach me? I am glad that it was me who he gave this penance to. I am glad that he did not give this penance to someone who could not accomplish this and think it was his or her fault. I wondered what education this Priest had and what Order he was from. I thought of the Asian Priest who thought so much of the elderly people who knelt before him, that he helped them as much as he could. I wondered what my penance would have been if I went to him? Would he have told me to be kinder towards myself? Would he have given me a Hail Mary? You are probably wondering why I am talking so much about my confession. It is simple. When you go to confession, you are confessing to a Priest who has a perspective stemming from his own education, culture, order and experiences. Penance is not meant to last until your next confession, which in my case is once yearly and he knew it. Confession is meant to be inviting. There was a reason why the Church made changes. So, if you go to a Priest please keep that in mind. Priests are like everyone. They are good and bad and wise and not so wise. They are human. We are not all the same. We are what we are because of our origins, our experiences, our exposures, education and biases. We are a product of everything we have been exposed to. We carry in ourselves all that has happened to us and all we have learned in how we interact with others. I would love to see that Priest again, to have a discussion regarding his penance and his views of confession. My suggestion to you is if you ever go to confession and do not experience a warm and inviting presence, and feel bad about it, please go to confession to someone else asap. This brings me thinking to what a colleague of mind said to me once. “It is easy for you to say go to someone else. What happens when you are from a small town and there is no one else.? I do hope I see this priest again so I can speak to him about how he came across to me. I would like to share that Jesus was God as well as man and that he was very much annoyed with others. He was always looking to change what he found unjust. He was annoyed with the religious leaders of the time and how everyone judged others instead of looking at themselves. He was supportive of women and they in kind supported him. There is so much we can learn from the life of Jesus. In the end, he summed us up, “Forgive them Father for they know not what they do.” Easter is fast approaching. Why not remember someone this season. In my neighbourhood several of us exchange small treats. Regardless of what I get, I appreciate it all equally, from farm eggs to chocolate to trinkets. It is an expression of love and that is what Jesus taught me most of all - love. What do you think?

My second book is now all completed with a teaser about my third

Yesterday I completed checking for errors and reading my second book for the third time. I learned a lot since publishing "Hey Guy Buy Me". I read mostly out loud to catch more errors. At times a comma would be at the wrong place which would change the entire meaning. Words are beautiful. I love our language. We could do so much with words. The design of the cover is wonderful too. My first book I wrote simply for fun. My second book is historical and a biography at the same time. It is about me and my experiences. It is from my perspective as I journey on a rite of passage. You will be able to journey with me back in time, to the present. That is all I am saying about it for now. My objective now is to have a bit of fun, work a bit and then continue writing my third book. This time I hope to qualify for grants. I never seem to be able to qualify to get anything business wise or tax wise. Another thing I have learned about my writing is that I need to stay in the mood of what I am writing about when it comes to books. Sometimes, a thought will come and I want to integrate that into my book. I had to stop writing my third to concentrate on the development of the second. I had to get my mind back into that time span and that life, which is very different from how I live today. I do not work as hard, nor play as hard. I am more mature and less athletic (actually I sit all the time at work and at the computer typing which is more than I have ever done) to the point where I realize I should move more. That is why I would love to have a pool, write, see clients, walk to the falls and spend time with friends. However, moving from Toronto is difficult because everything is here. Seminars, education and all else for professional development is here. It is as simple as that. So, I need to do more research and think more because that is what I do. I have decided to continue with this blog. Hopefully, you will download my book when I am all completed with the process. Hopefully, you will contact me if you need counselling. And if not that is ok too. I plan to place all my notes of all my studies on this blog. Why not share all and then it is out there so I can rid of my notebooks. I am not a pack rat. I do not like to keep things that I do not need. I am forever putting things outside for someone else to pick up. I call that re-cycling. Information that I have but was handed out in classes, I organize into different disorders or psychotherapy methods I like to use or think of using in different folders. I have a lot of work to do within using different methods of organization to work better for me. I can no longer work on a sliding scale nor should I after six years of working for so little or nothing because of internships. However, I have not raised my fee and people have the option now of seeing me weekly, monthly or whenever they see fit. I have found that this works for them due to one particular insurance method. I am always growing and changing my methods to accomodate what works for clients. Nothing is rigid. If there is something you would like to do but have not, ask yourself why? Our life on this earth is so short; why keep yourself from doing what you want? Do you want to write a book? I find that when I have a table and am selling my book, quite a few approach me wanting to know how to start? Start by writing. Write down a thought and get it on a computer and begin. Write from your heart, from your soul. Just start and then continue until you are finished. Do it! What else have you been thinking of doing and think it is too late? Why? What do you think?

Reading final draft of my book before printing

I am reading over the final draft, for the third time before it goes out to print. It is kind of exciting. I will initiate another web site just for "Hey Guy Buy Me" and ebook and hard copy of book two. It will be very exciting to get this off the ground and more so, if there is an interest from you. What are your passions? What excites you? What do you get out of reading my blogs? Are you happy? Are you sad? Are you spending too much time on the internet and not enough with people? What is it that most fulfills you? How do you find peace in a fast paced life? How do you balance your life with joy, work and interests. Are you happy with your work? What can you do to find something that is more fulfilling? Lots of questions for you this week. What do you think?

Sex Education in Ontario - Upgrade

Premier updating Ontario’s Sex Education and she does’t care who complains - Really? I am rather tired of politics. It has been a long and cold winter and I sometimes wish my parents immigrated to the South where it is nice and warm. At other times I wish Canada had a nice Island in the Caribbean where I could still be in Canada. Maybe we can buy Hawaii. Right! That is going to happen. At other times I dream of just packing up, pets and all and going South (as if my pets are going to let that happen). I don’t even know how that works but I understand perhaps incorrectly that you do not have to pay taxes in Florida (You do have to pay Federal tax). I do have a problem believing that but that is what I was informed of by someone who returned from holidays. However, I would rather pay taxes and have adequate health care. Ouch! Ok, that is my dream period for todays jolt of wanting to be in a warm tropical climate. Maybe Disney World wants me. Is it hot enough? No, I understand. But hey there is Disney land. Yup, as if that is going to happen. But enough! Today I am going to talk about Sex Education. I think that age appropriate sex education is required in school. I remember when I was in grade 11, I had to watch silly movies of going out on a date. I raised my hand and told the teacher (I could never keep my mouth shut) that I was sure everyone knew about dating and the entire girl class (because I think we were separated from the boys for sex ed) gasped at what I was suggesting in their minds. I spoke to the teacher after class and I told her that I would investigate and let her know how I made out. I was determined to prove my hypothesis that this sex education we were learning was outdated. I did talk to each girl in my class and learned that not only had everyone dated but …………. … I brought this to the teacher and that was that. Of course the information did not make any changes. Everyone pretended to be shocked at everything and anything and when one girl got pregnant everyone of her friends shunned her. I couldn’t figure it out. In my grade 11 brain, I asked myself, if the entire class (almost) is having ……….., than was it not possible that pregnancy was a possibility? I never felt I learned much until I went to university. There an entire world opened up to me. However, what I did learn a lot about in grade school and high school was human nature. I learned how people interacted with each other, how mean gossip was, how power was abused etc….. I also learned how good some people were; how kind. That is the world. As a therapist I have to report child abuse. Being a bad parent is not necessarily being an abusive parent. There is no education courses for being parents in grade school or high school. There is no requirement for attending courses prior to being parents. Too bad! Can parents really deal with educating their own children about sex? At one book sale a young international student approached me where I was selling my book,”Hey Guy Buy Me.” She was asking me a lot of questions about men. I asked her what her mom had taught her and what she learned was very bias. Men are not all alike. There are very many great men out there. What is that expression? You have to kiss a lot of toads before finding your prince? Well you don’t have to kiss the toads and no person is perfect but you should be able to go fishing and find someone who compliments your own thinking and worthiness and sex is a very important part of that relationship. When I was a child I was at a family friend’s house and the host told my mother about a child who had called her randomly in a panic because she was menstruating and she did not know what was happening. She was terrified. There on the phone she was getting a lesson which if it had been taught in class, she would have been prepared. I have received in the mail reports of what is going to be taught which I have not heard of in the news. Therefore, I can relax and infer that it was exaggeration. I will not talk about what I read because I would find that disturbing enough for people to protest. The Premier has said that there was some type of survey out to I believe 4000 parents who found her program worthwhile and therefore her curriculum is going forth regardless of complaints. Again, I would like to know how these 4000 parents were selected. How was this conducted? I really wish people would reveal how they conduct their studies? Also, it would be nice for politicians to realize that they are elected and in a democratic society there are choices. So, people realize that voting is important. Appropriate age sex education is important. What may be appropriate for one parent is not for another and therefore, to just interview parents is that sufficient? How about looking at research, calling in experts etc…… I believe that as a society we need to grow towards being better, kinder and protective. We do need to protect our children. There are too many pedophiles out there; there are so many problems that come out sexually which has nothing to do with sexual pleasure. Sex should never be confused with having power over someone. There is sexual addiction, sexual assault, sexual promiscuity in an attempt to find love, excessive and uncontrollable masturbation. Leaning about sex is very important. It is important for couples. I think that values and religion should also be considered in the curriculum. And what is very important is to teach the teacher how to deal and report when a child confides that indeed she has been inappropriately touched. There is more than just teaching sex education which goes beyond just asking if it is accepted or not. What was asked? How is this going to work moving forward? Is sex education important? You bet it is, but it has to be done for the benefit of the child when she or he is emotionally mature to understand what is being taught. What do you think?

Dysthymic Disorder

Dysthymic Disorder Depressed mood for most of the day, more days than not for at least two years - kids,teens - irritable mood maybe and duration one year. B. Presence, while depressed of 2 or more of following: Poor appetite or over eating. Insomnia or hypersomnia. Low energy or fatigue Low self esteem. Poor concentration or difficulty making decisions Feeling of hopelessness.

Post Traumatic Strss Disorder - Scarborough Public Forum

I awoke yesterday to windows I could see through. The freeze was over. I had my coffee and then I went out to start my car. My baby started with barely a hiccup. Just in time. I was running out of vegetables and fruit. I managed to drive out of the driveway carefully and then got my baby used to being on the road again. I was quite pleased because there was a Public Forum on PTSD at the Scarborough Civic Centre and I was not sure if I was going to be able to go. The TTC was out of the question. It was too far and I do not like walking around in the darkness in areas of town I do not know. Scarborough I know only by reputation and I have to admit I was quite aware of it when I stopped at Tim Horton’s to be leared at by a creepy old man and by another creepy young man. It is beyond me how someone can just sit there and stare at you with creepy stare. My biases were coming true. I sat beside a man who was coughing and talking loudly to himself. The coughing was disturbing and now I know why I found an empty seat. It was not a pleasant experience and I was glad my baby was not too far away. I looked around me in the packed Tim’s and also saw students and segments of families. The cougher left and I relaxed. I had ordered soup again, my staple food for when I am sick. I guess I like it now when it is cold out, though it was warm compared to the freeze. I didn’t even bother covering my head. I left and was happy to see my baby. It was frustrating trying to find parking at the Civic Centre, because I wasn’t sure which one it was in the mass of buildings. I saw a different side to Scarborough, a new side, a quite beautiful side. The public architectures were inviting to me. They were modern, strong, and bold with windows allowing the sun in. Once I found parking, I tried to get into the building, which was another challenge. The outside was very well lit and there were people skating on a nice, unexpected arena. I regretted getting rid of my skates. Once I was let inside by a woman walking by the interior of the building, I was warmly welcomed by security and the outdoors had come in. The area was spacious and I could only imagine the sun during the day reflecting within. There wasn’t as many people in the room as I had expected and I had to remind myself that this was not meant for therapists, but for a particular public. I did not advertise the event, because of who had informed me of it. I did not learn anything new about PTSD. The psychiatrist had a slide show and one part which I wrote down exactly but my pet is sleeping on now and so I will not disturb her, indicated that 75 % of the population has experienced trauma. The reference was not cited which I found a tad annoying because I always like to know how the research was conducted. I am used to percentages being thrown at me. What I did learn during the evening however, how strong a community Scarborough is. There were also a few representatives from different emergency response personnel and I was impressed by their concern for the men and women they work with. I also saw a segment of the population depict concern for people who they know who suffer and wanted to know how to help them. There was also the press there apparently and once it was announced and they were asked to be mindful if someone did not want to share their stories outside the forum that it would be respected. The man behind me nodded solemnly and sincerely. That was nice to see and I looked down at his pad and wondered if that was short hand or another language. I did approach a few people but was mindful that I really wasn’t invited as a therapist. There were a few people who asked questions about themselves and what they suffered and it was clear to me that they should see someone to talk about that. What the event clarified for me, more so, is that there is a need for OHIP to cover mental health outside the realm of the hospitals. I wondered why I haven’t been learning anything new lately. I had to reflect with this because I need to grow as a therapist. Psychology was always repetitious. That is how it was instilled within me. The psychiatrist did say that within the next five years there will be more effective drugs and some would be specific for PTSD. I pondered what my practise has been like, what has my practicum been like. I have worked with people who have sustained physical, sexual, financial, and emotional abuse. Some have been traumatized numerous times and sometimes by more than a few at the same time. I have worked with adults who have suffered at the hands of pedophiles who are still walking out there unnoticed. I have worked with people dying, suffering with cancer and HIV. I have worked with people suffering from grief and complicated grief. I have worked with people with disabilities and who have suffered because they have felt that they were not valued. I have worked with people suffering from sexual, alcohol and gambling addiction. I have worked with other addictions that were denied. I have worked with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Schizophrenia etc…..I have learned so much from my clients. I have also learned how they have felt failed by the system. I have learned from the politics and I have learned from Insurance Companies who want to know too much about their clients which should be Confidential. There is much that needs to be done for people who are suffering. So I am not too worried that I did not learn anything particularly new about PTSD, because I did learn from the suffering audience. In my own experience I have found that the sooner a person finds a therapist after a traumatic experience, the sooner the person is able to heal. The longer someone suffers, the longer a person has found an unhealthy coping mechanism, and the longer it takes to deal with not only the trauma but the addictions. I find that each person who comes to me with their stories needs to find some normality to what has happened. They need validation and they need to be believed. With some, their spirituality is very important and that cannot be ignored. There is no one remedy. Each person is different with a different history, a different support system, a different pain. Every person who comes to me is an individual. Think of a canvas. It is void, but slowly a picture is painted with different colours and tones etc….Slowly a vision is seen, a story told. Each is similar to another, but each is also an individual. There are also people out there who do not know that they have a problem. They do not know that something that they have seen has effected them. They do not get help because they are unaware. Then there are those who years later reflect and ask do I have a problem? For those who asked that question last night, I hope they have answered their own question, because that comes from within. I hope that regardless of the answers they were provided with, they seek out help for themselves. What do you think?

Angela Lansbury is wonderful to be in Toronto suffering a cold welcome!

Got you! It is freezing out. Who would want to come here is sub zero temperatures? Angela Lansbury did and I am so grateful. As soon as I heard she was coming I called and rather than ask how much the tickets were, I said I wanted the best seat in the house. For some reason the best seat was in the sixth row, seat 24. What? That is the best seat? "I can pick another day if I can get a better seat." I was assured that the seat was excellent and that I would be able to see all of the facial expressions. I mentioned the poor seating from the other theatre down the road and was assured that in this theatre, I would be much more comfortable. I braved the cold and even took the bus/streetcar since the snow plow had moved snow in front of my drive and it was frozen in place. I am glad that those tax dollars are working for me. As I waited for the bus to come and my body was going into survival mode, I asked a woman who had been there before I came, how long she had waited. “ A long time” she responded. Another with her iPad ready who had just arrived, said it would be there in 45 seconds. I felt relieved. “This must be the longest 45 seconds I have ever waited for” I responded. As soon as the bus arrived, I took the transfer ticket after depositing one my TTC tokens I had bought in bulk last summer for emergencies. This was an emergency. Why else would I take the TTC? I rapidly took off all my layers of clothing knowing I would have to go out again soon and did not want to freeze more so when doing so. I took the adjoining street car at King Street and viola I felt more relaxed. I was promised that the street car would stop right in front of the theatre. That beat trying to find parking any day. As promised the theatre was close enough to the front. I got off and went directly into the theatre. I thought I would have more time to go to Tim’s next door but the Usher told me I could get coffee within and so I did that. I got my coffee and cookie for 5.00. I had managed one piece of toast on the way out of the house since I have been reviewing my second draft of my book and didn’t bother eating. I pace myself at a hundred pages a day. I do hope you buy my book. It is really good, if I say so myself. I will finish off reviewing it after I write this, and if not I will complete it tomorrow. I am on vacation. I have decided to do that more often for self care. Yes, sireeee. So, back to the theatre! I am there being served and I am asked if I would like a lid for my coffee. I respond with a no thank you since I am a polite Canadian. I am than informed that it would be preferred that I take the lid as she would be responsible for me not having a lid. Everyone laughs because I believed I had the option. I take the lid, responding that I am a very obedient person. Everyone nearby chuckles again. It must be that everyone is on vacation this day. I find a corner with a cart tray near the entrance of my “best seat” and place my coat, gloves, scarf etc…on it, and now I am prepared to eat my cookie and drink my sought after coffee, lid and all. Then it begins a grumpy old man is giving the young female usher a hard time because she cannot open the doors for him, it is not the right time. He is mean towards her and it is obvious that she is hurt. I ponder and wonder why people who are retired can still be so focused on time. Maybe he just wants to sit down and give his crankiness a break. Most people are polite and are just excited to be there. Some people are casually dressed like me. I love my blue jeans and it is my staple dress. Others mostly men are dressed in suits. The doors open and I go inside. You can bring your food and coffee. However, you cannot take pictures. I brought my camera all ready for a sibling who wanted me to take a photo. There was no way I was taking a photo with this crowd because they were all good and I did not want to get kicked out. So cell phone off and camera in purse - no pictures. I am obedient. Rather, there was no way I could do it. Eyes were everywhere. I found and sat in my seat and wondered why this was considered the best. I looked up at the bare balcony which had nice woven Captain's chair. As soon as my neighbours sat, the woman made her first comment. These are horrible seats. There is no room. Why would they do this? It is only 20 years old? I did not respond as it was her beau she was speaking to or her brother. Her brother responds that they are going to tear it down anyway. In my mind I was telling her, she should try down the street. That would really get her going! A nice old lady sits on the other side of me and begins coversing with me. She has seasons tickets and states that she does not think she will renew them because she is not so impressed with the shows. I have told her that the last time, I was down the street and the play was horrid. There was so much swearing. She wanted to know the name of it but it had not been worth remembering. Then it happened. A nice looking man right in front of me sat down. I was now staring into a dart board with a big bulls eye in his bald patch. That had happened to me once before in Niagara but this was the best seat in the house. I told the little old lady beside me that I was told I had the best seat. “You do my dear. I do not know how you got it. It is in the centre.” She pointed to the tiny woman beside her. "You are taller dear, see her, she cannot see at all." Then it happened. The show began and I was mesmerized as soon as I saw Angela Lansbury. All the other actors sort of faded when she was on stage. She is a star. I now understand the difference between an actor and a star. A star shines brightly over every thing else and though I recognized the male actor and though they were all quite good, very good in fact when she was on stage, she was the show! The little old lady remarked that she always looks the same. “Timeless” I replied. Intermission came and it gave me enough opportunity to visit the ladies room and buy a 5.00 ice cream bar outside the hallway. I had warmed up by now. I returned to my seat and the little old lady continued to talk about Angela Lansbury. “She will be 90 this year”. Wow, I thought, what is my problem. Where does she get her energy? I want whatever she is eating. The play began once again and every time she was not in a scene I could appreciate the other actors. The maid automatically made me laugh each time, she opened her mouth. Her gestures and deportment was entertaining. They were all good, but as soon as Angela Lansbury came out, they all faded and it was just her on stage. The show ended and out they all came but when Angela Lansbury came out, we all stood up. She looked out at the audience and her face had such a warm glow to it. She seemed so humble to me and kind. That is what I thought as I looked at her. My eyes teared and I was surprised by my emotions. Is this what it means to be a fan? Am I a fan? I have only stood in line for an autograph for Micky Mouse when I was at Disney World. I would have stayed in line for a long time to meet her. I guess I am a fan. I have watched her in her black and white movies with my mom, since she decided what to watch and she would always speak of her when she saw her. We would sit as a family and watch, “Murder she Wrote” I still tape all her old series and every once in a while there is one I have not seen or do not remember seeing and so I watch it again. I realize now that I am typing this that she has always been on the screen since I was a child and she was one of my mother’s favourites. Perhaps that is why my eyes were tearing. In some way she was a bit of home. As I clapped with the others, I did so this time out of respect and not under obligation. It had been a long time since that happened. I hope you get to go see the show. She is worth sitting anywhere and even worth having to rub shoulders because of design and moving bobbing your head about because of a bulls eye in front of your face. As soon as I left the theatre I had a desire to have high tea. It must have been all the Agatha Christie books I have read which reminds me of “Murder She Wrote.” I went to the Hyatt next door, at least I thought it was and asked if High Tea was being served. I was told I had to go to the King Edward. My reply was I had been there. I had and even though it is ok, it was too far to go to in the cold and I prefer the Yorkvilles Hyatt, which a sister hotel I thought I was at. Guess not. There were about three huge travelling buses out front and so I made the mistake of skipping a street car which was not coming and getting to the next one. The cold was blistering. One woman motioned to me to seek shelter behind some tin box. I did that because I am so obedient but it did not help. I saw two men huddled at an insert in the wall and I saw Starbucks but I did not want to miss the street car and so I walked towards the men and asked them to move so I could get warm. Poor guys, they let me in and they moved outward into the cold. I had not meant for them to give up their shelter but I was too cold to care about my manners. It only made me appreciate our men so much more. I was the damsel in distress and I played my part if it meant warming up at all. The street car finally came and I got in barely. Frozen, I took my time to put another token in the whatever you call it. I had not been on the TTC since they have made changes. The previous driver was telling me when I asked about the changes that certain street cars and he named them all have an honour system (I call it that) but you may be asked to provide proof of purchase by the transit police (I call it that). I saw a sign that said 2000.00 fine and I certainly would not want that. However, I always pay anyway so it would have only happened this day when I was freezing and too cold to find the token. But, find it I did. I hate those transfer things but I guess I am going to have to take them from now on. Eventually, they will hit the bus routes. The driver may not remember my pretty face and viola a fine. They were doing that in Austria ages ago. There has to be a better way to keep up with the times. Of course, I miss the bus as soon as I get off the street car and am the only one in the bus shelter trying to stay warm. I could not warm up my core. It soon comes and I am on the bus seated which is a nice change. With the new accordion buses, there is more room. I am swinging my legs in the air because I feel frozen in place. I get off and find my bakery shop and decide I have to cancel my pizza night because there is no way I can get home in this freezing cold. I walk into the shop and am pleased that they have soup. I order my soup, coffee and grilled cheese which is a Portuguese version but I know I am getting a toasted baguette with melted cheese. I speak the language, hey! It happens. The large bowl of delicious soup begins to warm my core. I tell the server it is freezing out and she tells me it will be worse tomorrow. I tell her that nothing will get me to go out in this again, forgetting that I am designated photographer this day and have to go out again. Why do I always get volunteered for these things? I do not volunteer ever, and it still happens. My typing is interrupted by my phone. "Where were you yesterday?" "I went to see Angela Lansbury." My friend responds. We were wondering where you went when we didn't see you. I am going tomorrow. Is it good?" "Wonderful!" I reply. "See you in a couple of hours. They are serving ......" I salivate. What time is it? Again time has sped by. I go back to my computer. Aw, Angela Lansbury. What do you have to do get the opportunity to meet a star? What do people do nowadays? Oh well, it won't happen. Disney World was easy. You just stood in line and waited until you got to see Mickey. I would suffer the cold all over again to see Angela Lansbury. I hope she can keep warm and forgive us the cold embrace!!!!! Long live the Queen! Please Spring come.....................