The Little Blackfly

My blogname is derived from that most infamous of pests: the blackfly. Growing up as we did in Northern Ontario alongside the Abitibi River, it behooved us - thanks to our teacher, Miss Glendenning's not-so-subtle encouragement - to learn Wade Hemsworth's song "the Blackfly". What is wonderful is that Christopher Hinton (National Film Board) used Hemsworth's song to create this marvelous little film. Do enjoy it.

At the same time this brings back memories of what we wore to save our scalps from the pernicious little buggers: fly hats. Now a fly hat was not a thing of beauty but we kids did look kind of cute. You take your standard men's handkerchief (now a rare thing to find) and you tied a knot in the top right and left hand corners. You placed the kerchief on your child's head with these little "rabbit ears" knotted corners at the child's temple then knotted the remaining two corners under his or her chin. It did save most of the scalp but many of us came home with bites running with blood (as blackflies don't seal their bites with anticoagulents the way skitters do) all along the backs of our necks. Ahhhh, the good old days!

Our new "family"

As many of you may know, we are fostering a pregnant cat we'll call Momsie for the Humane Society. Not knowing how pregnant she was, we didn't know when to expect her litter. Four days later, we knew.

I'd been out socializing with the girls but got home at noon in time for hubby to nervously exclaim "You're just in time! The contractions have started!" I check her nether regions and sure enough there's a little black tail protruding. Oh no! Breech. We check a website for advice; they tell us not to worry so we massage her long spine which seems to comfort her although her contractions are quite intermittent.

At 12:55, no. 1 arrived safe and sound. Momsie did her job cleaning up her kit and chewing the umbilical cord to enable baby to separate. We're not sure of the kit's sex but it's black and white with a pretty white swoosh on the crown of his head. Already, s/he's a good rooter, looking for milk.

Half an hour later, no. 2 arrived but in the usual way: head first. And what a large head. Even Momsie squealed a little when he arrived. He's larger than no. 1 and an orangey/blonde colour. Again, Momsie dedicates herself to his cleanup & detachment.

At 2:10pm, the contractions produce a back foot! Oh, no, not another breech! All goes well and Momsie produces a tiny replica of herself, a black, white and orange calico. Once all Momsie's administrations are done, all 3 bobbleheads inch their way around, toward their just rewards and all settle down.

Ah, what a relief. Momsie's done a great job, all three kittens look healthy. No. 1 has turned in feet but they straighten out after a couple of days. No. 2 is definitely the largest and most likely male. No. 3 seems very assertive and is the most active. All is well, and we now have a beautiful little cat family.

Anniversary

We celebrated 40 years of marriage yesterday: it was a lovely warm sunny day, full of activity and friendship. We updated some of the gardens around the pool with Barb, Doris and Jack, Don and Bill. Then, while hubby headed back to the condo for a nap, I caught some rays and hot tubbed. Then, all dolled up, we were off to a lovely meal at the Bon Appetit in Dunedin with Fran & Bob, Judith and Paul, while the sun slowly set in the Gulf. A pianist played and we danced to the Tennessee Waltz. We lingered over coffee, conversing with our friends and soaking up the lovely ambiance. Not wanting the evening to end, we indulged in dessert & coffee at Hellas Bakery on our way home - damn the calories, full speed ahead!

And today, reflecting on yesterday, I realize what "happy" is...it's the above. Time, effort, food, conversation shared with others. When I'd asked my friend to join us for our anniversary, she asked, "Wouldn't you rather be alone, the two of you?" And while I love [relish !] being alone with my man, I have to say the inclusion of others while we enjoyed this milestone intensified our enjoyment.

David Brooks of the New York Times wrote about happiness in a recent column : "the daily activities most associated with happiness are sex, socializing [after work] and having dinner with others." What more can I say? We's happy!!

Repetitive Emails

This is a simple request for all my friends and relatives to review their group contact lists to help avoid sending duplicate emails. Here's what I really mean:

A receives an email from B. B has also included addressees C thru Z. A also has a distribution list for C thru Z and forwards B's email on to these same people. The result is an email, most usually a joke, getting sent umpty-ump times to the same people....and so on.

So just a word to the wise: please check (if it's not a blind cc) to ensure you're not contributing to email spam. Thank U!

Dance ~

I've been dancing for years yet I've never fully understood until recently that dance is really language. As I dance with my partner, I realize he is "speaking" a language, conveying messages with his hands, his eyes, a turn of his head or body. In partner dance, the hands are the most important. For a man to lead, his hands must braille moves onto his partner's back or to the palm of her hand. His hand pressing on a lady's "angel wings"...he pulls her in here, pushes her there, a touch to the side,...a lifted hand, a hand pulled down, or out or away...it's all an indication of go here, go there, twirl now, keep twirling, swivel, stop, go past me, come back, do this move, do that move. Oh so easy.

But: when the touch is too light, it's hard for a lady to know where to go or what to do. If she guesses, she could make a wrong move. Also, the lady needs her partner's support, particularly when doing certain spins like "ochos". Being a pushy broad, I'm often told I'm "leading" but gentlemen: really, I only do it in the absence of your lead. I've recently tried leading (in our dance class there's a shortage of men) and now I understand why men sometimes have a soft lead. It takes a certain confidence to insist via pressure points on where you want someone else to go. So even though I am pushy (yes, I'm admitting it), I too find it hard to convey with a touch what I want my partner to do.

As with any language, it takes time. My partner and I, though we've been dancing for over 40 years, are still perfecting our "vocabulary" in dance. We have good days and bad days. When I insist on a stronger lead, he tells me he can't concentrate on the steps and me too! Dance is dance. As they say, it takes two to tango and we are learning the Argentine Tango so we must bear with each other while we learn this new "language". We love it though as it has drama, and unexpected action, and a sensuality we don't find in most North American dances. We ardently hope to become "fluent". Wish us luck!

Here's a little taste of the Argentine Tango music we dance to. It's on Youtube and is called Gotan Project's Epocha. Enjoy!