My latest pillowcase-making effort: this one with PAW Patrol fabric. I know I make a lot of these things, but they're fast and easy and I have 25, going on 26 nephews and nieces, so don't judge me. One of my nieces turned two today, there's a family party for her tomorrow afternoon and she's completely addicted to the kids' cartoon PAW Patrol- hence the pillowcase. I always make sure to give the impressionable youngsters a book to offset the TV taint, but I couldn't stop on the way home last night due to the weather and I didn't have time today. Unless I manage to stop at a store between church and the party, I shall have to go bookless... I have failed in my auntly duties.
Update: I remembered that I had a nerf ball globe which I bought to put in my Operation Christmas Child shoebox and then couldn't fit in. That's sort of an educational gift, right?
Well, it's time for the Academy Awards once again and so time for my annual advice regarding them:
This year gives every indication of being even more of an intolerably smug, virtue-signalling, self-aggrandizing smarm-fest than usual and that's saying something. Considering all the stuff that's come out about them this year, a little humility and self-reflection from the Hollywood crowd would seem to be in order but heck, we all know that isn't going to happen. After all, why question your own morals and behaviour when you can deflect by blaming everyone who doesn't agree 100% with you on every issue for everything? My advice: clean up the rodent-infested trash heap in your own backyard before you start complaining that your neighbour hasn't mowed his lawn. Frankly, ABC should be running a PSA announcement before airing the ceremony:
I shall, of course, be continuing my yearly tradition of attending a movie night where we watch anything but the Academy Awards; I prefer actors when they're pretending to be different people than they actually are, because the reality frequently stinks.
"His hat was not the familiar Stetson, not the familiar grey or muddy tan. It was a plain black, soft in texture, unlike any hat I had ever seen, with a creased crown and a wide curling brim swept down in front to shield the face." - Jack Schaefer (Shane)
Every year Heritage Day in Nova Scotia honours a different person. This year it was Mona Parsons, from Middleton, N.S. After attending Acadia University, she moved to New York and became a Ziegfeld Chorus girl for a while, then studied nursing and began working for a Nova Scotian doctor with a practice on Park Avenue. He introduced her to Dutch millionaire Willem Leonhardt; they married and she moved to the Netherlands with him in 1937. When the Nazis invaded the Netherlands in 1940, Parsons joined the resistance, dismissed her servants and used their quarters to hide downed Allied airmen until they could be smuggled out of the country. She did this for about a year, but was eventually caught and arrested by the Gestapo. She was found guilty of treason and sentenced to death by firing squad, but her sentence was eventually commuted to life, with hard labour. She was transferred to prison in Germany where she remained until March 1945 when the prison camp she was in was bombed by Allied forces. Parsons escaped with a Dutch woman, posing as the younger lady's mentally-challenged aunt so that she wouldn't have to talk. Although she was fluent in German, Parsons knew that her Canadian accent would give her away. The two managed to make their way across Germany together, though they got separated near the German/Netherlands border. Parsons crossed into the Netherlands and was fortunate to meet a sympathetic farmer who, when she told him she was Canadian, took her to the nearest British troops. Astonishingly, it was the North Nova Scotia Highlanders. After the war, Mona Parsons was reunited with her husband, though he never recovered fully from his imprisonment. After his death, she returned to Nova Scotia, remarried, and lived out the rest of her life in Wolfville, not very far from the community where she was born. I spent the day with family, visiting the Museum of Natural History and Shubie Park.
Well, I watched some of the Super Bowl for the second time in my life- last year being the first time, when I watched the last quarter. I saw about the same amount of it this year, and I really think that this is the way to go for the non-football fan: you see the end when one of the teams wins without having to spend hours trying to figure out what's going on on the field. You also have the added bonus of missing the halftime show- a win, win situation as far as I'm concerned. Congratulations to the Eagles; I suppose the next thing we'll be watching are the news reports on the wreckage of Philadelphia, post "celebration".
"As every thread of gold is valuable, so is every moment of time."
Yesterday we had a gold rush themed birthday party for one of my brothers-in-law because it was his golden birthday. For those not in the know, your golden birthday is the one when your age and date of birth are the same. In this case, he was turning 28 on the 28th. We don't generally make a big deal about golden birthdays, but it was a good excuse to have a family party in an otherwise rather dreary month. Everyone was required to wear some sort of gold rush costume and bring food appropriate to the theme as well. I made a golden punch and cooked Yukon Gold potatoes. Someone made chili and cornbread, and there were chicken nuggets, etc. I didn't spend too much time on my costume; I wore jeans and a plaid shirt, work socks and my fur-topped boots, then braided my hair and tied a kerchief over it. Some of the others were wearing overalls or suspenders, and a few were wearing long dresses and bonnets. It was all very silly and fun.