My great-uncle Bob just turned 80, and there was a bit of a family reunion on the weekend to celebrate. A mariachi band serenaded the assembled at Bob's request. He's a wonderful man -- I hope he feels appreciated!

Here he is singing "Besame Mucho' with the band:

And here, with one of his great-grandsons:

Finally, I'm posting a picture of five happy cousins reunited, some of whom had not seen each other for at least fifty years. It was an extraordinary occasion! My mother (far right) was soooo happy, which is just how mothers ought to be, right?! Right!

CG

Further to my last entry, I am aware of a garbage e-mail making the
rounds which purports to explain all the terrible problems with
Canadian healthcare. In all cases of urban legend, I like to refer to
Snopes. And indeed, you can read the truth about that e-mail here.

No healthcare system is perfect. And as Snopes points out, the
"Canadian" system is actually 13 separate healthcare plans,
administered by our provinces and territories. But -- across Canada --
no plan is permitted to deny needed medical services based upon a
Canadian's income or ability to pay.

Just think about what that means.

I read in Harper's Weekly this week the following tidbit:

Rudy Giuliani conceded that although his campaign's statistic for prostate cancer survival rates in Britain was seven years old and 30 points off, Americans should still be wary of "socialized medicine." "If we ever got to Hillarycare in this country," said Giulani, "Canadians will have nowhere to go for health care."

I am a Canadian, and this made me snarf my tea. I hope that Americans
who want to know what things are really like will go out and find a
reliable source of information, rather than listening to their own
politicians.

I've had experience of my own healthcare system. Here in Ontario, we do
have to pay for dental and optical services. Also, my doctor recently
has begun to ask me to pay $100 a year to cover some stuff that the
Ontario Health Insurance Plan (OHIP) won't cover, like renewing a
prescription over the phone.

However.

The vast majority of medical care in this country is paid for by
taxpayers' contributions. And by vast, I mean pretty much anything the
average person would ever need.

If you feel sick and go to the hospital, there will be a wait unless
it's an emergency, and there are some waiting periods for certain
procedures and equipment, although I've never found those to be too
bad.

My experience is that nurses and doctors will look at you, test you,
and diagnose you. Let's say you have cancer, as I once did. They will
not then ask you for your Visa number, your insurance plan info, and
let you know how few your options are based on your ability to pay or
what your insurance company dictates. They will never mention money.

Instead, they will go over the options based upon your personal medical
history and current illness, and you will decide together how to
proceed with your treatment. You can even get a second opinion with
little difficulty. Then your treatment will happen. Then, hopefully,
you will go on with your life, a debt-free taxpayer.

My cancer at age 25 would have beggared me and my parents for life had
I been required to pay for it directly. From what I hear of American
medical insurance, there are usually so many loopholes and exclusions
that we'd have been deeply in debt there even if we'd been fully
insured. I paid nothing
except via my normal taxes. I survived, and my life has gone on to be
normal. I do not even know how much that care cost the system. Everyone
around me focussed on getting me better instead.

Universal healthcare is the cheapest way to provide an acceptable level
of healthcare to everybody. Other systems exclude the poorest members
of society. If you want to live in a society where fellow citizens
routinely die for lack of basic medical care, then go for some other
system. It virtually never happens here.

Canadians who are affluent or who need special treatment do sometimes
venture elsewhere to obtain it. There are always treatments -- new,
controversial, experimental -- that aren't covered by OHIP, and there
are medical treatment centres like the Mayo Clinic that can provide a
unique level of care. But for those of us who need to rely on the
public health system, it seldom lets us down.

I love to cook Indian, Thai, and Persian recipes. Here's the one I made
today. Yes, it takes time, but ahhh, it's worth it! Plus, after the
initial onion part, there are plenty of moments when you can leave it to
simmer.

Also, I'm using new recipe software called MacGourmet. So far, I'm very impressed with its many handy features.

Chicken in Onion Tomato Gravy (Murgh Masala)

Serves 8. I like it with basmati rice and naan. It's just the tiniest bit spicy.

- 2-3 lb chicken, cut into several pieces
- 10 tbsp light vegetable oil
- 6 cups onions, thinly sliced
- 2  tbsp garlic, minced
- 2 tbsp ginger root, minced
- 2 cinnamon sticks
- 4 black cardamom pods or 8 green ones
- 1 tbsp turmeric
- 1 tsp red pepper
- 2-1/2 cups fresh ripe tomatoes, pureed or finely chopped (or 2 cups drained canned tomatoes, chopped)
- 1 tbsp kosher salt
- 2  cups boiling water
- 1 tbsp roasted cumin seeds, ground (brown them in a dry pan; shake it to be sure they don't burn)
- 3-4 tbsp fresh cilantro, chopped (or 2  tbsp dried)

1. Remove skin from chicken.

2. Heat 2 tbsp oil in large heavy-bottomed pan over high heat. When oil
is very hot, add chicken pieces and sear until they are browned (3-4
minutes). Reserve in a bowl.

3. Add remaining 8 tbsp oil to pan, along with onions. Reduce heat to
medium-high, fry onions until they turn light brown (about 30 minutes),
stirring constantly to prevent burning.

4. Add garlic and ginger, fry for 5 minutes.

5. Add cinnamon and cardamom, continue frying until spices are slightly puffed and begin to brown (about 2 minutes).

6. Add turmeric and red pepper, stirring rapidly for 10-15 seconds.

7. Add pureed or chopped tomatoes, along with chicken, salt, and two
cups of boiling water. Stir to mix, reduce heat and simmer, covered,
until chicken is cooked and very tender and gravy has thickened (about
45 minutes). If gravy has not thickened, increase heat and boil
rapidly, uncovered, until consistency of beef stew. If too thick, add a
little water. Ensure sauce does not burn.

8. Turn off heat and let dish rest, covered, for at least 1 hour, preferably 2, before serving.

9. When ready to serve, heat thoroughly, fold in roasted cumin and chopped cilantro, check for salt, and serve.

This keeps in the fridge for a couple of days. Add more cumin and cilantro when you reheat it.

Let me know if you try it. It's very easy and fills your home with the most amazing scent. *sigh of bliss*

(Warning, personal stuff!)

I thought up that title and it seems good for my topic. My younger
brother is alive and well, in fact, and living not more than a few
dozen miles from me, but this is about our shared childhood, which it
seems will always haunt us, or at least me.

Hands up all those who had sibling problems when they were kids. I know
there are a few. My brother and I never saw eye to eye. A four-year
difference in age surely has something to do with that. Also, I take
after my dad's side of the family, and my brother is definitely from my
mom's side. We were both intelligent children, but social misfits and
outsiders. In another family, that might have brought siblings closer,
but that never happened to us. We weren't allowed to hit each other,
but we fought tooth and nail in all other possible ways. It must have
been terrible for my parents to deal with it all. They were very
responsible people -- my dad was an elementary school principal, my mom
a 24/7 homemaker -- and they provided a very stable home life for us.

I should, of course, as the older one, have been mature enough to put a
stop to my part of it at some point. I often think about what a weird,
emotional child I was and how much I wish I could have been a better
daughter and sister. One complicating factor for me was that as a
not-very-likeable kid, I still needed unconditional love and was sure I
had none. I eavesdropped on my parents a lot in my pre-teen years and
learned how my mom felt guilty that she preferred my brother to me. My
dad would explain to her that that was perfectly normal, every parent
has those feelings. Well, maybe they do, but how is the odd-kid-out
supposed to feel about that? I despaired and sometimes wished I would
just vanish off the earth, poof.

As a young adult, I woke up one day with the feeling that if I just no
longer reacted to my brother, the problem that was still dogging us
might fade away with time. Some of that has occurred. It means a great
deal to me that I have had a much warmer relationship with my parents
in recent years, and I would like to say that things are better between
me and my brother. However, he seldom shows up to family occasions and
won't let me visit him, although he lets my parents visit. He almost
never returns any e-mail I send him. I hear about him through my
parents sometimes, that's about it. So I don't get many occasions to
try to improve matters. I bet it's just not gonna happen.

I know there are many people who have trouble with someone in their
family and wish that they could mend things without knowing how to go
about it. I know, too, that this is just about me -- perhaps my brother
isn't bothered much one way or the other by it, after two decades of
adulthood. But I have the kind of family where we all get along just
fine if we stay in the present. We can't discuss or revisit the past
without lots of emotions coming up that everyone refuses to deal with.

I dream that a day will come in my life when all that stuff is really gone and the air is clear.

I read once that it's important, as an adult, not to require from your
parents those things which they may not have provided when you were a
child. I am sure that also extends to a younger brother, and an older
sister. I'll bear that in mind.

CG

May I recommend this illuminating and informative book by Naomi Klein.

Here is a good review of the book, and below, a short film that gives a good introduction to its contents.

So much to see, it's the place to be, at the Ex!

The Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto, that is. I went yesterday. Saw many things. Got sore feet. Had more fun than I
expected. Here is the best costume I saw, for your enjoyment.

I have a great friend who once rescued a big nasty dog named Mansun,
who is still his constant companion today. Without my friend, Mansun
would surely have been put down, because he has fear-aggression
problems that probably arose from abuse in his past. I am personally
afraid of this dog, but my friend has him under good control and has
won his devotion as a result.

Mansun is getting a bit older now -- 11 is old for a big dog -- but he
still likes nothing better than to go camping with his owner. His
favourite activity, besides chewing on dead logs and sticks, is to leap
joyfully into the water from a rock, preferably at the exact same
moment as his owner.

Under the wrong circumstances, this dog can be fearsome and hard to
manage, but here he is looking like the most contented dog in the
world, in the front of my friend's canoe:

Dave and I have known each other for 27 years, but have only been
married for two. We had a lovely wedding anniversary yesterday, and
here's a beautiful recent sunrise over the Bustard Islands in Georgian
Bay to symbolize the start of our third happy year together.

Okay so like. Get this. My husband is up north camping with his best
friend. Here is a photo of him speaking to me on the phone after having
climbed a tree to get the best reception. Taken about 20 minutes ago
because I laughingly demanded proof that he was up a tree! Talk about
husbandly devotion. This is love!