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<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/momentscomic/art/Harder-Better-Faster-Stronger-94751669" target="_blank">"This work"</a> by <a>momentscomic</a> is licensed under <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0" target="_blank">CC BY 4.0</a>“Animals are happier than humans because they’re like furry little existentialists, all living in the moment. Their collective motto: live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking pelt”

Richard Jeni

Had you enquired but a year ago of The Girl and I as to whether or not we would be fully ‘retired’ by this point in our lives… I suspect that your query would have been met with some scepticism. Now that we do after all appear to have achieved that state (whether or not it holds) you might well ask what it is like so to be.

Good friends of ours – who retired quite a lot earlier than did we – were fond of opining that one of the best things about the condition was that every day felt like a Saturday. Mind you – they spend their days chasing the sun to various exotic parts of the globe – so their Saturdays were never going to be like ours anyway.

I am slowly forming the opinion that one’s experience of the different ages of man (or Girl) tends to come with expectations that we unknowingly extend to the world around us. Chaps like my father (who commuted for many decades into the heart of the metropolis) would – had they followed the dream (which he did not!) have retired to some bucolic country hamlet or picturesque fishing village – and found the horizons of their world contracting around them; softly enveloping them in a cosy duvet of daily duty and volunteered obligation. Mayhap they would nonchalantly follow the fortunes of the village cricket club – mayhap carelessly anticipate the summer fayre upon the green.

For The Girl and I our world feels very different. Not only are we constantly considerably busier than we might have expected, but the world around us appears to have exploded outwards rather than shrivelling like a deflating balloon. Further – the world outside our door seems to be full of craziness, mendacity and negligence.

If nothing else – it just seems to be full of things (like the times) that are a-changing!

Of the bouffanted autocrat and his brown-shirted barbarians in the White House I have little (of any politesse) to say. The self-professed master-dealer seems determined to wreck the global economy. ‘Nuff said!

To the unbearable and wicked conflicts in the Ukraine and in the middle east we now find added two nuclear powers dancing a lunatic two-step. At the time of writing an insubstantial cease-fire is in place. Tomorrow? Who can tell!

In Rome there is an unexpected new pontif – an American to boot! Back in the day the then Archbishop of Chicago, said that the only way the Catholic Church would elect an American pope was if the United States went into decline as a world power. Now the Church has not only an American pope, but one from Chicago.

In Canada there is an unexpected new government – not of the rebarbative tories but a fourth term for the ailing Liberals. The bright light at the end of this particular tunnel is that – in new ex-banker Prime Minister Carney we do – finally – have an adult in the room.

Thank goodness for small mercies…

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https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/
I have long thought that…

– no matter how bad things might seem during this particularly dark period in time

– no matter how crazed this crowded little world may of late have become

-no matter how dangerously misguided so many of its self-proclaimed leaders are determined to prove themselves to be

…that – even so – the zeitgeist could hardly compare with the sense of dislocation, chaos and loss that my parents’ generation endured during and subsequent to the Second World War. Could one ever truly imagine living through those portentous days?

Until now!…

Now, I am no longer so sure. Now it really does feel sometimes as though we are living through the end of days.

Let us pause for breath. I feel sure that the gentle reader would thank me not at all for enumerating once again the long list of woes of the world with which we are currently inflicted. A great deal has been – and is  (thankfully) still being written, day upon day – that gives us at the very least a chance of understanding the substance of some of these grim matters. But let us look instead for whatever fresh green shoots may be discovered peeping through the fallen snows.

As the post WW2 order that has done a better than expected job of keeping us all safe (and I do mean ALL) is rapidly being demolished by vandals for whom history is based not upon fact but is rather up for negotiation, fabrication and grievance… there are perhaps a few small glimmers of light.

The massive and incomprehensible act of self-harm that was (and is) Brexit may just slowly begin to be revised. Were the UK to build a new relationship with a re-invigorated Europe that would be no bad thing. We really should try to remember just why the countries of Europe – following two devastating global wars – thought that closer ties were a good idea in the first place (and – no! it was just not to disadvantage our cousins to the south).

If the ties between some of the Commonwealth partners (the UK, Canada, Australia and New Zealand for example) were to be strengthened – that would also be a win.

If more of us throughout the world were to follow the example of my adopted nation in standing up to the bullies – that would also raise the spirits. Feel free to take inspiration from our grassroots “Elbows Up, Canada” campaign, the which is fast spreading across the nation. For those readers outwith Canada here is the CBC’s explanation for the origin of the slogan:

When Canadian actor and comedian Mike Myers, clad in a “Canada is not for sale” T-shirt, twice mouthed the words “elbows up” and tapped his own left elbow on Saturday Night Live last weekend, he was sending a not-so-subtle signal to his compatriots north of the border: Get ready for a fight.

Facing punishing tariffs on Canadian exports and repeated jibes from U.S. President Donald Trump about their country becoming the 51st state, Canadians were understandably riled. “Elbows up” became the rallying cry they’d been looking for.

In hockey-loving Canada, the phrase automatically evokes memories of one of the game’s greatest players, Saskatchewan-born Gordie Howe, who before becoming Mr. Hockey had earned another nickname: Mr. Elbows.

Unfailingly humble, generous and gentlemanly off the ice, Howe would wield his elbows like weapons when battling for the puck.

“If a guy slashed me, I’d grab his stick, pull him up alongside me and elbow him in the head,” Howe once said, describing his favourite method of retribution.

To those who feel inclined to ridicule such an emotional response I would just add another quote – from the Dalai Lama XIV:

Don’t ever mistake my silence for ignorance, my calmness for acceptance or my kindness for weakness. Compassion and tolerance are not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.

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This year saw the ninth anniversary of The Girl’s return to and my arrival in Canada. It further marks the start of my third year as a Canadian citizen.

It hardly seems possible that so much time has passed so quickly!

This week just passed marked yet another milestone; this being the first time that I was eligible to vote in an election here. Back in the UK quite a lot of folks (such as those from Commonwealth countries) are eligible to vote as long as they are residents in the UK. The Girl used to take advantage of this before she was granted her UK citizenship.

In Canada one has to be a citizen before one can vote in federal elections – hence my inability to do so until recently.

Anyway – I can now so do…

This current election is a provincial ballot and we here in British Columbia are – like so many others in the world – struggling to keep the nefarious tories at bay. This means voting!

In our neck of the woods we can vote early, so we trotted down to the polling station a week in advance of the final tally. On arrival I announced to all and sundry that this was my first Canadian election. The jolly lady there immediately sourced me a ‘first time voter’ sticker (just like being a teenager again!) which you can see adorning my voting card in the photo attached to this missive.

Voting here is quite slick. One takes one’s voting card and photo ID to the dude at the desk and one is ticked off the list in the prescribed manner and given a voting slip and a stiff plastic (or card – I forget which) sleeve. Having annotated the slip appropriately one inserts it into the sleeve – so that it can’t be read by others – and feeds it into the tallying machine. The machine sucks the paper out of the sleeve (which can then be recycled) and tallies the vote as it digests the slip.

All done and dusted, counted and ready to go. Most efficient and no loopholes for any possible suggestion of impropriety – though heaven for-fend that any such thing might be though even possible here north of the border.

And that’s how you do it, chaps!

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Those who have known me a long time – who have perhaps on occasion delved into this forum – may have noticed that I refrain (these days; wherever possible) from discussing (read: ranting about) politics.

This is undoubtedly a good thing…

It is a lot – however – to ask me to maintain this stance during this particular year in the course of which which there are to be national elections in (amongst other places) the United States of America, the United Kingdom and – indeed – Canada! This will be the first election here since we emigrated in which I can vote – and I will, of course, be eagerly exercising my democratic right.

There are, sadly, many troubles in the world and many good reasons to find everything a terrible struggle.

There are – however – also days on which celebrations are in order, even if the joy that one feels lasts only for a brief moment in time.

Today is one such day – and that is all I am going to say about it!

Hoorah!!

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Most liveable

I have previously made mention within these meanderings of the fact that The Girl and I do not routinely read print newspapers here in Canada – a definite and somewhat unexpected change from our previous practice in the UK. Yes – I still read The Guardian and The Observer online – but sitting up in bed of a Sunday morning with an iPad on one’s lap is just not the same as having the multiple sections of a paper strewn around over the duvet.

However – just the other day The Girl returned from a few days in Vancouver where she had been attending an Engagement (what you and I might call a conference) bearing a copy of The Globe and Mail that she had picked up on the ferry. Now – if we did read a paper here regularly it would probably be The Globe and Mail – of which Wikipedia says thus:

“The Globe and Mail is a Canadian newspaper printed in five cities in western and central Canada. With a weekly readership of approximately 2 million in 2015, it is Canada’s most widely read newspaper on weekdays and Saturdays, although it falls slightly behind the Toronto Star in overall weekly circulation because the Star publishes a Sunday edition, whereas the Globe does not. The Globe and Mail is regarded by some as Canada’s ‘newspaper of record'”.

Irregardless…

The reason for mentioning this at all might just be discernible from the accompanying image – of the front page of this particular issue. The piece referred to concerns the 2023 Canada’s Most Livable Cities survey – in which good old Victoria came out as the overall number one city.

Yaay Victoria!

If one is to accept that the data is accurate (and can indeed be interpreted in the way the the Globe and Mail survey does) Victoria comes out top in many categories – with the notable exceptions of the cost of housing, (which is uncomfortably high for many folk) and healthcare (where, as I have previously noted, there is a continuing shortage of doctors). There are those who gripe about such studies and one should certainly not overlook the problems that many localities face, but I believe that the great majority of those who live here are aware that they are inhabitants of a beautiful city and that to be so is a considerable blessing.

 

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Coda

When I wrote a post recently raising a cheer for the culmination of the long process towards adding Canadian citizenship (and a matching passport) to my existing British variants of both – I assumed that that was the last I would hear of the process. Indeed – what else could there be to say?

Imagine my surprise, then, when an important and most official looking package arrived for me just the other day in the post. The envelope indicated that it had originated in the Canadian House of Commons – the Canadian parliament – and when I extracted this rather swish folder from within the impression was confirmed.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid
What could the Canadian government want with me? Was I in trouble already? Did they want their citizenship back?

I need not have feared…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid
The folder contained a rather splendid certificate, signed by our local MP – Elizabeth May – welcoming me as a new Canadian citizen.

How splendid!

Now – I don’t want to draw comparisons, but when The Girl was awarded her British citizenship back in 2012, no-one from the UK parliament sent her an equivalent welcoming memento.

Hmmmm!

Elizabeth May is a resident of our local town – Sidney by the Sea – and is (joint) leader of the Green Party. She has long served the peninsula and the Gulf Islands as member of parliament and is one of the few Green Party representatives there. We like her!

Even more so now…

 

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“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending”

C. S. Lewis

Well – 2023 has started somewhat shakily – in all sorts of ways. That on which I will particularly focus here concerns the ‘small’ matter of a Canadian passport.

Back in October last year I wrote – in a post entitled “A pat on the head” – about the really most exciting and unexpectedly rapid arrival of my Canadian Citizenship Certificate – following my Citizen Ceremony but a few short weeks beforehand. One significance of this happy occurrence was that I could then crack on with my application for a Canadian passport – without which I would be able to leave – but not return to – the country.

This I duly did!

So, I was somewhat disappointed when – in the middle of last week – I received by registered post a form from the passport office detailing a rejection of my application.

WT actual F!

So – it seems that the Canadian passport office had objected to the item of identification that I had provided – I thought as per the guidance. For clarification, this is what the instructions on the application form actually say:

You need to provide at least one (1) document to support your identity. The identification document (ID) must be valid and be issued by a federal, provincial, territorial government authority (or local equivalent abroad). The ID must include your name, date of birth, signature and photo“.

I had sent them an appropriately witnessed copy of my British passport!

It seems that was not what they had in mind – in spite of the fact that the instructions seem to me explicitly to allow this.

Now – I could grumble here about how we all still (currently!) share the same monarch… ties to the Commonwealth, etc, etc… but as we are dealing with the powers that be this would just be a waste of time. Rather than just posting off a second attempt I thought I might visit one of the Service Canada offices at which one can deal with such matters. I drove 40 minutes over to Langford and waited in a queue for more than 10 minutes just to speak to the receptionist. She entered me into the long queue that was waiting for the main event, but warned that it might take an hour and a half or so to reach the front of it. She also pointed out that the office closed in a couple of hours time.

So” – I ventured – “I could wait here for a couple of hours and still get booted out without being seen?“.

She agreed that that was entirely possible. She also very kindly looked over my application and checked that all was now likely to be acceptable, before I gave up and returned home.

So – the application has now gone into the post for a second time – and I await once again with all body parts firmly crossed.

Sigh!

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…surely some mistake! How could such a thing be possible?

It has been sometime since I last mentioned the noble game of Rugby Union within these scribblings. ‘Too long!‘ – I hear you cry – and you are absolutely correct; a great deal has been going on in the sport and I am remiss not to have made mention of at least some of it.

The Girl and I have been greatly enjoying the Women’s Rugby World Cup – the which is about to arrive at its climax down in the Land of the Long White Cloud. The standard has been exhilaratingly high and the matches have for the most part been gratifyingly exciting. It also helps that the time difference means that live coverage (thanks TSN!) has been primarily in the evenings here in the Pacific Northwest. Jolly good show.

We found ourselves in something of a quandary with regard to our support last weekend when England went up against Canada in the first of the semi-finals. The winner would face either France or the hosts – the Black Ferns – in next weekend’s final and all four sides were in with a very good shout. Canada put up a terrific performance against the Old Country and pushed them to the last – losing only narrowly… though – it has to be said – not as narrowly as New Zealand, who won at the last gasp by a single point.

The mouth-watering final thus pits the Red Roses (currently ranked no: 1 in the world and on an unprecedented winning run of 30 victories) against the Black Ferns (current World Champions).

We can’t wait!

Where the rugby surfeit comes in is that the Men’s Autumn Internationals are now also under way. Since they are not being shown on the BBC this year (boo!) we have had to subscribe to DAZN to see any coverage. Having paid up we are determined to get value for money – and the schedule last weekend made that possible.

Having watched the Women’s World Cup semi finals on Friday evening – through to 1:30am PST – I was back in action for the second half of the Scotland/Fiji game (Scotland took a somewhat unconvincing win) which started at 6:15am on the Saturday. This was followed by Wales/All Blacks at 8:15 (back to school for Wales) – Ireland/South Africa (yet another famous win for the Irish) at 10:30 and France/Australia (the French – but again by a single point) at 1:00pm.

That’s a lot of rugby in 24 hours!

I didn’t have the energy to watch the England/Argentina game on Sunday (again at 6:15am!) and it sounds as though the England side felt much the same way.

I should also mention the English Premiership. Sad to see both Worcester and Wasps forced into administration and relegated this season. I feel sure that both will be back where they belong, though there are clearly financial questions to be answered across the whole of the Premiership. Rugby Union only relatively recently joined the ranks of professional sports and there is still much to be done to make things work reliably.

On the other hand, Bath Rugby (our team!) having been terrible last season (finishing bottom!) have now won a couple of games on the trot. I do so hope that this is the start of a major turnaround.

 

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“Certification from one source or another seems to be the most important thing to people all over the world. A piece of paper from a school that says you’re smart, a pat on the head from your parents that says you’re good or some reinforcement from your peers that makes you think what you’re doing is worthwhile. People are just waiting around to get certified.” 

Frank Zappa

Well – Frank may be right in general, but in my case at least I am no longer ‘waiting around’.

A couple of posts ago I detailed my online Citizenship Ceremony, the which I ‘attended’ on Zoom about a week and a half back. It was a delight to finally have achieved Canadian citizenship and to be welcomed into the community.

As I explained in that post: as part of the ceremony I was obliged to cut up the Permanent Resident card which until then had enabled me to return to the country should I have to leave it for any reason. I now need to apply for a Canadian passport, so that I can once again come and go without let nor hindrance.

Before that could be done, however, there was one more occurrence for which to wait – the arrival of the all important Citizenship Certificate. Prior to the pandemic – when the Citizenship ceremonies had been conducted face to face – the certificates were presented as soon as the oath had been taken. Now that the ceremony is carried out online the certificate is send via Canada Post subsequent to the event – and one is warned that it may take two to four weeks to arrive.

Considering how long the whole process had taken to that point you can imagine my surprise when last Wednesday – just six days after the ceremony – my certificate and other documentation popped into our post box.

This has been by far the quickest part of the whole process which – considering that Canada Post are involved – is nothing short of a miracle!

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Yesterday was a momentous day – and not just because the tory government that has afflicted the UK for longer than I have been keeping this journal appears finally to have plunged itself into a death spiral… though that is indeed a very splendid thing!

Should – incidentally – you want chapter and verse on just how momentously this epochal event will undoubtedly go down in the annals of history once the dust settles, I commend to you Jonathan Freedland’s excellent piece in the Guardian, the which can be found here. Freedland draws the connection all the way from the Suez crisis in 1956, through the joining of the Common Market, the decline of Britain through the 70s, 80s and 90s, to Brexit and on to the current attempts by the free-market zealots from the right wing who have taken over the nasty party… to buck the very markets that they espouse!

I did but a single unit in economics at college way back in the very early 70s – but even I could see that this was never going to work.

Anyway – exciting as this all undoubtedly is, for The Girl and I (yes – I know… ‘me’!) the day had a different import. Finally – at the end of a process that has taken nearly as long as the unraveling of the tory project in the UK – I have become a Citizen of Canada (as trailed in this previous posting)… the which I proudly add to my treasured British citizenship.

Hooray indeed!

The citizenship Oath Taking ceremony itself was carried out – as in the way in these frangible times – on Zoom. This naturally lent proceedings a slightly strange atmosphere though – as with most things Zoom related – it all seemed work out reasonably well without ever coming close to that which a proper face to face ceremony would have afforded. The slightly unreal symbolic cutting up of my Permanent Residency card (rendering me temporarily unable to return to Canada should I have to leave it for any reason) and the strange twist of having to swear allegiance to the monarch (something that as a Brit I have never been called upon to do – as is also the case for native Canadians) was followed by the somewhat forced singing by the massed Zoom ranks of ‘O Canada‘ in a mixture of English and French.

Somehow – in these strange and perplexing times – this ceremony felt not only appropriate but also unexpectedly touching. I am most happy now to add being a citizen of ‘here’ to my armoury.

The Girl is and has always been – of course – the entire reason and rationale for this long and unforeseeable journey. To her – as ever – my endless gratitude and thanks.

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