I spoke too soon about Biden winning the US ELECTION. 

Although he did win, Trump continues to deny the fact. He has not yet conceded defeat. He and his red hats still stamp and scream that the election was stolen from them. But enough of fantasy.

The real world is confronting the second wave of COVID-19. It's crashing into parts of Canada that were hardly affected by the first wave and forcing the ones that were back into measures as drastic as those used in March. Even our Bonnie Henry has mandated mask wearing in BC, and she does her best to encourage people to do the right thing, not force them. But here as in most places people readily embrace the individual liberty that is implied by democracy but are reticent about exercising the equally fundamental collective responsibility it requires.

I rarely know what I'm thinking until I take time to consider what I'm doing. This morning I got up around 7:30, dressed, ate an apple, put a mask and hand sanitizer in my purse and drove to Superstore. I had about five items in the cart before I observed that there were more people in the aisles than I had thought there would be so early in the morning. They were all wearing masks. And I had just put ten pounds of whole wheat flour in my cart. Everyone was following the mask mandate and I was stocking up as I hadn't done since March. Until that moment, if asked, I would have said that I was unaffected by this second wave talk, 💦off a 🦆's back. 😹

But at that moment I realized that I had been thinking about it and so had these other masked shoppers. That's why I hadn't felt like having breakfast before going shopping and was buying things in bigger quantities than usual. When I went through the cash at 8:30am, I asked the cashier if there were more people in the store than usual at that hour because I had never been there this early. She said that it was starting to remind her of March. As I pushed my loaded cart out of the store, I passed a mountain of toilet paper on sale that I hadn't noticed on the way in. Superstore had caught the second wave well before I had. 

Meanwhile, back in S. Korea, Jay, May and the girls moved into their new apartment on Monday. They planned and packed and worked as a team. There were a few set backs, but nothing they couldn't manage and now they are settling in. They are quite a crew. Moving is becoming their specialty. The new place is on the main floor, bigger and much quieter than the last one, and the view from the living room window is of trees and a park. 

Packing done

Min and Jin eating their last lunch in the old place. 

May and the girls at the new dining room table in their new home


Jay's morning coffee after their first night in the new home. The nephews are already visiting as you can see from the blanket and softies on the floor. 

Rant 

The fact that the US has a  materialistic society, controlled by corporations through lobbyists and advertising, that is coupled with a myth of meritocracy that is in fact insanely weighted in favour of a small percentage of elite, upper class Americans who are the only ones who can afford to go to the best universities is clearly being revealed tonight as we see how many people feel so powerless in this atmosphere that they either ignore or admire the aspects of Trump's personality that I find narcissistic and immoral and vote for him because he brashly seems to defy those elites who presume they represent and are entitled to all that is good. What these disrespected, red cap wearing, flag waving, socialist fearing masses at Trump rallies don't seem to appreciate is that many among the elites are as bound to Trump as they are and support him financially precisely because as he talks like his rallying masses and appears to respect them he walks with the rich and entitled. Even though his position in their ranks is tenuous, they will back him as long as his narcissism props up their status and self interest. 🤪

That was my pre election rant. Like Rick Mercer, I will surround it with graffiti. This is the picture I took yesterday of the graffiti at the Black Rock. I walked there as part of my between season push to prepare for the pilgrimage I probably won't be able to go on next May. Caroline Pollock has invited me to join her, Mara and two other friends on a walk from the Cathedral in Ottawa to the Oratoire St. Joseph in Montreal. It would be wonderful to do, and not too difficult, or so I thought before starting to prepare. The route should be relatively flat, BUT you have to walk about 25km every day for 12 days. As there will be another group right behind us, there is no hope of a day off because the refugios are small and can only hold one group at a time. Still, the down payment was only about $70.00, so I happily paid. Now I'm trying to walk the walk. It might not be so easy. You have to carry a pack weighing approximately 20 pounds. I spent last week walking from one end of Vernon to the other, with digressions side to side and stops to fill my pack with shopping. I came nowhere near 25km with 20 pounds. One day after a long walk, I flopped my heavy pack ( a gallon jug of milk, a dozen eggs and some small stuff) on the kitchen counter and immediately took out my iPhone to see how close to 25km I'd come. 😅I was just short of 10. Still not too discouraged, I took out the scales to weigh the pack. I couldn't believe it but finally had to, 12.5 pounds. I'm going to need faith in a force greater than I am to help me through this pilgrimage. Finding that will be just as hard as walking and carrying. Covid might come to my rescue and make the whole thing impossible, but I really don't want to be rescued that way. 

As I write this last post rant part of the blog I am encouraged  because post Election Day vote counts have gone my way on two fronts. Biden will be the next President of the USA, and in my Vernon/ Monashee riding the NDP candidate has pulled ahead to beat the Liberal for the first time in years. 

One week ago today I received an email from Terry Keough informing me that Barbara had died earlier that morning. Barbara was brilliant. She was humane, intelligent and joyous. When I was with her, I felt special, not because I am, but because she was. I enjoyed her company and valued her opinion. She and Terry were good friends to Jim and me.  After Jim died, our friendship continued. I stayed in their basement flat every time I visited my parents, which was for a week or two, four times a year. After dad and mom died, I still spent at least a week every May with them. We had coffee and long talks together in their living room every morning and one or two pub lunches. Barbara almost always ordered a veggie burger with fries and took home about half the fries to heat and enjoy another time. She seemed to like fries better reheated. She was a wonderful listener, and when she said something, I listened. It was either a well stated, considered opinion,which I valued, or a laugh, which I often needed. I will miss her very much. 

Barbara and Terry at one of our pub lunches

It's the first day of what might be the last year that we Fall back in BC. I'm spending the extra hour in my grey sunroom. The temperature is 2c at the moment, but the sun is supposed to start shining around 11am.  Three of us plan to go on the final bike ride of 2020 at 12:30. The temperature should hit its high of 8c around 2:00pm, so we'll be wearing head bands and ski mitts.