A Rant and Roses

Happy Canada Day!

I’m finally taking a stand against the irritating overuse of the word ‘icon’ and all its derivatives with the exception of ‘iconoclast’.  I began to be annoyed by its use months ago when I unpacked the first of many Emails that I have since received.  The confidently pious wording assumed that it was being read by a person whose outrage would equal that of the sender.  It informed me that the ‘iconic’ words, “God keep our land” in the Canadian National Anthem were under threat of being replaced.  I should join the 85% of Canadians who were against this.  Like so many of the Emails that either drip saccharin sentiment or assume right thinking, it ended with a near threat that if I didn’t share its views and forward it to every person I could think of I would suffer.  I deleted it and didn’t think about it again until I got another.  I snapped.  Iconic!  I spent my whole youth singing “We stand on guard for thee”, a few too many repetitions perhaps, but at least there was never any appeal to a deity to save the land. Or was I wrong?  I was driven to Google it.  Yes!  God only entered the scene in 1968 when the Pearson Government made “O Canada” the official national anthem, after changing a few words on the advice of a committee.  So that committee created an ‘icon’.  I didn’t like the addition of god in 1968 and I still don’t.  It seemed like a thoughtless copying of the U.S. anthem.  I also don’t like prayer circles before athletic events, but I digress.  I know that the word ‘icon’ is used all the time now in its computer context, but it’s being thrown around in association with moustaches and words that were added to anthems by committees that were struck in my lifetime irks me.  That’s my rant for the week, but I know that the word ‘icon’ will continue to jump out at me and give me a little frisson of fury every time it does.  When Jim was around, he got riled up enough for both of us.  As the years went by, I sometimes thought to myself that I had been very attracted to an angry young man but I wasn’t so sure if an angry old man would have the same appeal.  But now that I’m alone, I find I can’t live without a bit of irritation, a bit of the Bill Needles.  I have to get riled on my own.  It’s invigorating, up to a point. 

The rest of this blog will be roses because I did very little other than extreme gardening this week.  My many absences combined with the amount of rain we’ve had this spring turned the yard into a weed bed.  It’s good Jay gave me the hand and lower-arm- strengthening thing for my birthday because I’ve been using it and  I’ve needed every bit of muscle I have in that area to pull out the thousands of weeds.  I now have a plan to cover the pathways and bare spots that I’ve cleared with newspaper and then mulch so that I never have to do this again.  The idea is similar to the lasagna garden that Caroline made with such success.  I hope it works. 

When I’m sick of weeding, I stand up, stretch and look at the roses.