The Dog Days of Winter - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

Dog Days

The dog days of winter nip at my heels
hoping they might catch a bite.
Brain's in full gear though I'm sluggish at best;
no part of me feels quite right.

Mind's full of thoughts that I'd rather not think -
how can a body this tired
carry a brain that might burn itself out
like battery that's expired?

I will outrun them, though effort is hard -
they nip at my Achilles' heel.
Dogs in my head snarl while running amok.
I will outrun what's not real.

Barking gets loud and I might turn to look ,
though there is nothing to see.
Things we fear most can be own CGI,
built in our brains and set free.

Dog days of winter will always give chase
filling our minds with self-doubt.
We choose to leash them, or give them free reign;
it's kinder to not let them out.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, February 23rd, 2022

Winter is hard for a lot of us, and some winters are worse than others. These past few winters have been particularly difficult because of Covid lock downs and mandates. It's easy to feel under-stimulated and overwrought. In times like these, a little frostbite of the soul is understandable, even for the most mentally healthy among us.

Try to imagine how difficult these past few winters have been on the many who struggled with mental health issues before life became more complicated. Or those who routinely battle depression in the winter. Now add on a layer of financial stress, some loneliness, perhaps a few difficult relationships. We really don't know who among us is most affected by the complex times we've endured. It would be nice to think that being largely separated from each other would make us all more compassionate, more willing to consider another person's point of view, but everywhere we look we can see evidence to the contrary. Humanity seems to be becoming less humane as we see more polarization among differing factions. Some wave a red flag in front of the dogs at their heels that clearly says, "Bite me!" Others just feel hounded.

I often feel hounded.

It's probably safe to say that most of us have become increasingly "Covid crotchety" - we are tired of masking, stock shortages at the supermarket, financial problems, lack of social contact, and trying to keep up with ever-changing mandates. Many of us have had enough of the non-compliance we see around us, and the entitled screaming for their "rights" and "freedom" from the very restrictions that their gatherings prolong. These people refuse to understand that their behaviors are viewed as a threat to the rest of us, and that in some cases they try to push their presence on others who just don't want to get sick. (I'm sixty, and diabetic, and I don't want contact with those who refuse to get vaccines. It's not that I'm being "mean" - I just want to self-protect. Your choice to not be vaccinated comes with consequences.) I've called off my own dogs where this subject is concerned - I refuse to engage with anyone who wants to make me fear vaccines. Choose what you will, but I don't want to hear about it. Call off your own damn dogs, okay?

We live in a world that has much bigger problems than most in North America have experienced even during the pandemic. I feel hounded by societal problems, by poverty, by climate change, by lack of affordable housing. Don't any of these "freedom fighters" ever look beyond the ends of their own maskless noses to see people who experience real hardship?

I constantly remind myself to shut off my brain. It's not helpful to obsess about what's wrong with the world, or to feel guilty because I have more than many - especially when I know I'm making efforts to be kinder to the planet, to share the safe haven that is my home, and to consume less. I'm trying to be kind and inclusive and empathetic. The dogs in my own brain bark loudest and are the hardest to silence. Sometimes I just need to talk..

In the winter of our discontent, we can feel torn between the need for meaningful connection, and the need to void the negativity, unkindness and divisiveness that is so pervasive on social media. For those of us who too easily absorb negative energy around us, it can become necessary to take steps to disengage. Talking to close friends and family can be enervating, but nothing depletes precious emotional reserves faster than interacting with arrogant, argumentative people who are too quick to jump in with uninvited criticism of our feelings, intellect or opinions. While I understand the importance of the "Let's Talk" campaign, it's important to carefully choose with whom we share deep thoughts and feelings - some are far too quick to judge and too slow to empathize. It's okay to disengage and disconnect sometimes; to cocoon ourselves in protective layers of peace and quiet while we read, craft or watch Netfix. Having a network of people you can share your feelings with is important, but not everyone is well equipped for the deeper conversations we may yearn for. It's important to share with caution - sometimes even those with good intentions respond in ways that can make us feel worse. If you feel the need to talk, be sure to choose someone who understands how to listen.

That said, there are times when we need to honour our decisions to be selectively mute. You don't need to apologize for wanting to be alone sometimes, for not feeling motivated to make a lot of phone calls, or for avoiding the company of people who make you feel drained. One thing the pandemic has taught me is that many people enjoy stirring up negativity - especially on social media where they can be as rude as they want without ever having to look others in the eye and acknowledge that their words have become weaponized. I doubt that I'm the only person who has drastically altered my Facebook feed over the past two years.

Everybody has their own dogma - but none of us need to sic those "dogs" on everyone we come into contact with. It's winter, we're tired, and it's hard to outrun the hounds of hell when there's ice everywhere.

Chain up your "dogs"!

It Hurts to Think - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

It's been five months since I last posted, which is a record for this muse. Don't assume it was because I had nothing to write about, because nothing could be farther from the truth. The pandemic provided altogether too much fodder for my brain, and I was doing my best to not be driven crazy by too many big, serious thoughts.

Covid 19 came along just as I was emerging from a prolonged funk. I felt a little aimless again, without exchange students to "mother." Still adapting to my husband's role as mayor of our community, I often felt more than a little thin skinned. It's difficult to "share" a spouse with an entire municipality!

Winters always hit me hard, and this one was a doozy. There was a lot of drama playing out under my roof - a blog post for another time. Covid hasn't been easy for any of us, and it's been especially hard for those of us who tried to be diligent in obeying the guidelines. I'm probably not the only person who felt that they had too much time to think, and not nearly enough to do to distract me from uncomfortable thoughts. Too often I went to bed at night with a brain that felt like it was about to burn a hole through my skull. My thoughts exhausted me.

It hurt to think.

I used to love using long walks by myself as uninterrupted thinking time. I worked through difficult conversations that I knew I had to have, I planned blog posts, wrote poems in my head, and memorized speeches as I walked at a brisk pace. For several months I couldn't walk by myself. I had no speeches to learn, and didn't want to think about the craziness of a world where so many rejected scientific evidence in favour of YouTube conspiracy quackery. I didn't want to think about missing the people I couldn't see, missing things I couldn't do, or feeling incredible anger with those whose continual flouting of restrictions prolonged lockdowns. I didn't want to think about police brutality, about bigotry, or about Trump worshipers who hailed him as some kind of new Messiah as he preached his unending sermons in praise of misogyny, capitalism, greed and ignorance.

I became very disenchanted with large sectors of my fellow beings. That's ironic, because through every difficult period of my life, prior to this pandemic, I have always been buoyed by a belief that humans are mostly good, kind, and pragmatic. Now I'm not as certain of that.

My dabblings kept my thoughts from imploding and melting me down to a puddle of goo. It was calming to string beads, link chains, put stitches in Aida cloth, try new recipes...it all made me feel useful and productive. The world around me made no sense, but I could hold on to my marbles by making things, and thus make my locked down life bearable.

It Hurt to Think - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

I couldn't write
because it hurt to think.
I lost the fight
to put my thoughts in ink.
I can't explain
how much just thinking hurt;
how fierce the pain
my own thoughts could exert.
To find relief
I beaded, stitched and baked,
linked chains in grief
until my fingers ached;
rolled cookies out,
x'd patterned onto cloth,
and gorged on doubt
while feeling like a sloth.
Fanatical -
my fear to look within -
sabbatical
from my internal din.
I could be calm
when quieting the mind,
creation's balm
helped me contentment find.
I can at last
put writing on a page -
now time has passed,
and with thoughts I'll engage.

Time doesn't heal as quickly as it grants perspective. I'm not as okay as I used to be, but I'm coping. As some aspects of life return to normal, other details emerge that make me ponder whether our old "normal" was mostly an illusion. Capitalism, running rampant and unchecked, is the cause of most of the ills of the world. I mind paying taxes, for services that I require, a lot less than I'm bothered by skyrocketing housing costs, an underpaid work force, a lack of manufacturing in our country (that has allowed our neighbours to the south to vaccinate at a much more rapid pace than us!), and a lack of mental health services that we are REALLY going to notice a few months from now!

A lot of people are unhappy. They've realized that they hate their jobs without the water cooler chats that made them tolerable. Some are finally having to acknowledge that they have troubled relationships, difficult children, messed up priorities, and a serious lack of contentment in their lives.

A lot of people are confused about how they should treat others, and about what constitutes "truth", "freedom", and the North American "way". The arrogance of those who think they know better has always been with us. The emerging news stories about bodies being located on the grounds of former residential schools are an uncomfortable confirmation of past wrongs that many of us have long suspected. We wish we were more surprised....

Haunting - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, June 2021

Their voices call out from the ground,
and we are haunted by the sound -
a sad and longing, keening song
from children who did nothing wrong.

Don't block those cries with hands on ears,
like others did for countless years;
this haunting we cannot forget -
unless we have learned nothing yet.

Some say we should cancel Canada Day celebrations this year to demonstrate our sorrow. It's nice to think that denying your community a few fireworks will somehow atone, but grand gestures mean nothing when they don't initiate change.

I'm celebrating a Canada that has come a long way - a country that no longer kicks over the traces of its ugly past, a country that I believe will use these gruesome discoveries to fuel positive change. We have textbooks that need to be rewritten to portray the past more accurately. We have a nation to re-educate. I'm going to spend part of my Canada Day reading documents about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. I want to learn how I can change my behaviors and take action to make my country a more equitable place.

I'm going to end this post with an attempt I made to write an additional verse to our National anthem. Some might disagree with me but I think, as my husband once said, "Diversity is our strength, not our weakness." I'm still learning, after years of negative conditioning, and stubborn, wrong headed thinking, that nobody has to look like me, believe what I believe, love the same way I do, or be of the same political stripe as me to deserve kindness and compassion.

Another Verse - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

O Canada! We must atone for past,
look to the future, making changes vast.
We must begin to reconcile
all that has gone before -
the value of diversity
no longer we'll ignore.
May we begin, thus to create,
true equity in land devoid of hate.

Take your own hurting brain, and apply it to righting a few of the ills of the world. Let your localized actions fuel global change.

Happy Canada Day from the Muse!

Dabble On - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

 Dabble On...

I'm dabbling in a lot of things;
no longer do I care
if I'm seen as rank amateur
or show a talent rare.
I used to worry all the time
that I might not excel.
I'd tell myself - don't even try -
and interest I'd quell.
Now I don't really care at all
if I do well, or not.
If I am curious, I will try;
I'll give it what I've got.
I'll stitch, I'll bake, and cook a bit,
I'll play with jewelry -
and show nary a care at all
if it's Tom foolery!
I'm occupying mind and hands
in time of endless stress -
I'll dabble whether I excel
or only make a mess.
I'm free to dabble on and play,
and post pics on Facebook -
it's not to brag or show my skill,
but just to say - Hey - look!
I didn't criticize myself,
I didn't second guess.
I sat and figured this thing out -
and did it - more or less!

- Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 29, 2021


Say what you will about 2020 - it was a difficult year for most of us, and while it fell short of being my "year of perfect vision", it certainly made a few things about myself come into focus.

In previous posts I've mentioned my narrow comfort zone, my ability to become frustrated easily, and my introversion. I've never been the kind of person to share "a work in progress" - when I write a poem or blog post, it appears online as a finished project. While that's still the case where my writing is concerned, I've learned over the past six or seven months that it's okay to give the Facebook world a glimpse of some things I'm working on.

I thank the pandemic for making me desperate enough to start dabbling in more creative endeavours. When every day starts to look the same, you look for ways to shake things up a bit, and for me that meant trying some new things. Thus I've learned the value of dabbling.

It started with food. When you are staying in all the time, food becomes important - probably much more important than it should be. In May, I dug out our air fryer and started using it for more than cooking frozen fries. In June we bought an Instant Pot, and because of my wariness around technology and new kitchen gadgets, my husband decided he'd help me prepare our first meal in the thing. He discovered he liked helping me cook Instant Pot meals, or "science experiments you can eat", and I discovered that I was more inspired to create in the kitchen when I wasn't stuck in there alone! Proud of our efforts, we both started sharing the occasional "this was supper" post, and hungry friends started requesting recipes. Apparently our meals looked good enough to eat!

As my garden began to bloom I got outside and snapped pictures. I'm not a fantastic gardener, but I'm interested in photography, and flowers are more cooperative photo subjects than people or animals. (In the spring of 2019, my husband gave me an iPad, and after years of very seldom taking pictures I discovered how easy it is to take - and share - pictures with it.) My gardening pictures have always been more about trying to develop photography skills than bragging about my garden. I dabble in gardening and in photography.

Throughout the summer I often felt bored and restless, but I discovered that my world looked a bit more inviting through a camera lens. My husband had purchased some photo sessions with a local photographer as a gift for me, and my son had purchased a decent camera from a friend. I utilized both and had some carefully distanced photography lessons. By then "Covid Brain" had kicked in and my powers of concentration were a bit compromised, but those lessons broke up my week and gave me something new to think about. I'm not convinced I was much of a student, but by trying something different I was reinforcing the idea in my head that I could dabble - just trying new things was an accomplishment in and of itself - but having learned a bit more about taking photos I could continue to learn more at my own pace.

As the pandemic continued I found that I needed tangible evidence that my days weren't wasted. If I posted some nice pictures, I had proof that I'd seen something that day, but that wasn't quite enough. As days wore on I needed proof that I was actually doing things. While cleaning out a few drawers in a little used room, I found some Aida cloth and embroidery floss. I hadn't cross stitched in more than a decade, but decided that I should do a small project to see if I still enjoyed it. The fabric I had on hand had a tight weave - my stitches had to be small, and it quickly became obvious that my eyes had deteriorated a bit. I made a lot of mistakes in that first project, but posted pictures anyway. I was proud that I'd simply followed through and finished, even when my eyes felt strained and I goofed up. The completed piece is now framed and hangs on the wall in my office, proof that I accomplished something - and that I can persevere and be proud of consistent effort, even when it yields imperfect results. Finishing that one small project motivated me to complete a small project for each of the people on my Christmas list - more proof that my days weren't wasted! I was getting things done, by golly - and I was happy to broadcast the fact!

Furthermore, when I posted pictures of my first stitching project online a new friend sent me a private message asking if I'd be interested in some outdoor, socially distanced "stitch and bitch" visits with her. We had some great chats and got to know each other a lot better. All because I posted a picture! It was more proof that good things can happen when we risk sharing our efforts online.

I think the proof of my personal growth lies in a lot of imperfect photographs of less than perfect meals and slightly flawed projects that I've posted this past year. I'm no longer worried about people looking at my efforts and saying, "I can do that better." Without a doubt many can, and some might think that to themselves. I'm no longer bothered because I don't care what they think, and I have enough faith in the people I friend on Facebook to be fairly confident none of them will be overtly critical or unkind. My projects are about me - not them - and how I'm learning the importance of playing with new ideas and dabbling in new projects.

I know I'm just a dabbler. I know a lot of other people can stitch rings around me and cook better meals, take better pictures, make nicer jewelry... I'll even concede that a few people on my Facebook feed can bake as well as I do. (Sorry if that sounds boastful; I'm not going to bother with any pretense of false modesty on this one point - I know I'm a good baker.) 

I don't need to be particularly good at everything I try, and I don't need to be afraid to share imperfect attempts with my friends. You don't need to be afraid to share either.

These are frustrating, difficult times. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I'm feeling a lot of stress. I've been denied a lot of the simple pleasures I took for granted - a weekend away, a visit with friends, a meal at my favourite restaurant. For the last nine months, I've been living a very quiet, isolated life. For the last two months, I've been the primary caregiver for a mother who grows older, frailer, and more high maintenance. All of these circumstances and sacrifices take their toll, and I'm not afraid to admit that.

My little projects keep my mind occupied, at least temporarily, and they keep my hands busy. They provide proof of my own productivity, and will serve as  reminder to me that I didn't spend the entire pandemic wringing my hands.

When I share my efforts I'm reaching out to others. I'm trying to start a conversation, to encourage my friends to share their own efforts, no matter how big or small, and no matter how imperfect.

Most importantly, I'm giving myself permission to be a dabbler. I can try out new recipes, new hobbies, and new projects. I can dabble until I gain proficiency, or I can dabble until I'm tired of one hobby and move on to another. I can dabble for the sake of dabbling - I can dip a toe into a new pond, or dive in. Nobody gets to dictate how I dabble, or tell me when to stop.

It's gratifying to play with ideas and give creativity new outlets, and it's freeing to no longer be afraid to share my creative attempts. Having discovered the joy of dabbling, I'm not going to quit, and I urge you to get creative too.

Dabble on, friends...dabble on.

So It's a New Year - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

A new year has begun, and we want to believe that 2021 will usher in a happier era. Hope is a good thing, and I want that as bad as the rest of you - but we have to be realistic. Covid-19 isn't gone yet, and won't be until vaccines have broad use. People are still getting sick and dying. Just ten minutes ago, one of my Brazilian boys told me about a family connection who died of Covid-19 this morning.

"He was such a nice man, and I'm heartbroken", he told me. "We can't even have a funeral."

Covid is a very cruel virus. It doesn't care how nice you are, how rich you are, or even how careful you try to be, and that's why all of us need to continue being responsible. How we conduct ourselves can so easily determine the fate of those around us.

As a society, we haven't done very well so far. Most couldn't, or wouldn't, make the required sacrifices over the holiday season, and cases will continue to surge in the weeks to come.

Someone close to me told me that we could all "interpret the (Provincial) guidelines by our own light" - and then caught Covid. Luckily, she did not make the visit to her aging mother that she considered making! The guidelines have been clear from the beginning:

1) Stay within your household.

I grow increasingly frustrated with the number of people who don't understand what a household is. Sadly, your household includes only the people who live under your roof full time - not your grown children and grandchildren who live in separate houses! 

I'm astonished by the number of people who defied that rule over Christmas. Don't try to tell me that your four adult kids, their spouses and your grandkids are all part of your "household"! If you felt that you absolutely had to spend Christmas with all of your kids, I hope you took every single possible precaution to stay safe. I'll be honest - my mom joined our household for Christmas. She's 89, and doesn't have many Christmases left. She lives in assisted living, which means she technically doesn't live alone. That's the frustrating part - had my mom lived alone, across the street from me, where we could visit daily that would've been no issue. (A single person living alone can join with another household to have their social needs met.) However, because my mom lives in assisted living, where she gets communal meals, but spends 95% of her time alone, she is supposedly not lonely! Which is ridiculous, because she's never been so lonely in her life. So, I "sprung her" for the duration of the lockdown. I brought her from a red zone to an orange zone, where she will be happier and safer. For more than two weeks before she came here she had no visitors except me. She wore masks and distanced from the other residents. Did your family visitors take the precautions?

One of my friends told me how she visited one of her kids on Christmas Eve and the other on Christmas Day "because they weren't in the same bubble". What???? First off, the concept of "social bubbles" was so entirely (and perhaps deliberately?) misunderstood that they have been forbidden for months. The idea was simple - up to ten people total could form an exclusive pact that they would visit closely (no masks, no distancing) with each other - and ONLY each other. Instead, people chose to interpret that as "it's okay to hang out with no precautions as long as there are ten people or fewer gathering." The next day, you could get together with a different group of ten - and so on, and so on...and naturally the numbers soared!

Why more people couldn't understand the problem with this is a mystery to me. My household never joined any bubble, simply because we didn't feel we could trust anybody else to make the same sacrifices we were trying to make. One person looked at me incredulously when I told her that no, if my younger son lived nearby, we would not visit with him without distancing. He has the mind of a scientist and is every bit as careful about Covid as my husband and I are. He would've joined our household permanently or visited from a distance - period.

Until more learn to sacrifice the hugs they want now for an unlimited supply later, the social isolation will have to continue.

2) Stay home!

That should be an easy one too, but when the Finance Minister thinks he should be able to travel to St. Bart's for the holidays, everyone thinks travel is fine and dandy. 

In my opinion, international travel for pleasure should've been immediately forbidden as of March 2020. The countries that have been insistent on no tourists, like New Zealand, have low numbers because they seized control quickly. Stay home! It works!

Yes, you can walk in the neighbourhood. Yes, you can shop for essentials. Yes, you can go for a drive. Stay home means don't visit friends, don't spend time doing recreational shopping, don't congregate in groups outside unless you distance and mask.

It has been disheartening to learn that the average dog understands "stay" better than most humans.

3) Maintain two metres of distance from those not in your household, and wear a mask when that is difficult.

For those unfamiliar with the metric system, that's about six and a half feet. If your husband is six feet tall, try to imagine if him lying on the ground between you and the person you are talking to, with six inches to spare. In my experience, most people seem to think four or five feet looks like two metres. Always err on the side of caution. Don't assume you can stand two feet away from someone and chat for hours because you are both masked. Maintaining distance is the single most important precaution you can take to halt the spread. The mask is meant to be an added precaution when you can't. So mask up before you head out to shop, and if you want to walk in a crowded neighbourhood where a whole lot of other people might have the same idea, put it on there too.

4) Wash/sanitize your hands.

We can sing the Happy Birthday song twice through at home, and squirt on lots of sanitizer in stores, but neither gives us license to touch everything in our path, or to touch those around us. In the grocery store, I try my best not to touch things I don't buy. In my home, I try not to touch surfaces too often, and to clean them with disinfectant more often than usual. We all need to try to touch our masks less often - I can only hope that we don't end up wearing them so long that proper masking hygiene becomes second nature to us. Whether that happens depends on how well we obey the first three rules I listed above.

I don't do everything perfectly where the pandemic is concerned, but I'm trying. Can we all try a little bit harder, please?

For the poetry portion of this post I'm re-vamping an existing song....

So It's A New Year

So it's a new year
what will we do now?
Protect those around us?
We ought to know how!
and so Happy New Year
to weak and to strong -
mask up and stay safe now,
vaccines won't be long!

A very happy new year
to all of my friends.
Let's hope it's a good one,
and pandemic ends!

If we are united
in staying at home
the virus will slow down
with no place to roam.
We're none of us special -
exempt from the rules -
and those who pay no heed,
are nothing but fools.

The vaccines are coming.
Til then wear a mask,
and stay with your household
it's not much to ask!

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 1, 2021

Last year was supposed to be the year of  "2020 Vision" - perfect clarity! In hindsight, I can clearly see how a lot of us made mistakes early on in the pandemic. As time goes on, and Covid continues to gain ground, we absolutely must unite in making the sacrifices necessary to slow the spread of Covid before vaccinations are amped up! Our hospitals are struggling, our elderly are lonely, and far too many of us are at risk!

Do you want to have a better 2021? Stay safe, stay home, and comply with the lockdown!

Vaccines are coming, but not in time to save all of us. We have to do our part.

All You Need Is... By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

 Enough Already!

If you believe the story
that all of us were told,
or see an allegory,
then might I be so bold
as to suggest you give heed
to what I have to say?
Love is really all we need
to get on Christmas Day.

While Covid makes you lonely
and may have cramped your style,
stay with your household only
and try to find your smile.
It's an exaggeration
to say there can't be cheer
without big celebration
in this pandemic year.

If you are hale and able
to buy a bird to roast;
though few sit at your table
you're better off than most.
So try to find your merry,
admire the stars above -
life is extraordinary
if all you get is love.

By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, December 21, 2020


Like the rest of you, this isn't the Christmas I wanted. Our family has always had quiet, insular Christmas celebrations with our immediate family, but I started this year with high hopes of hosting friends from Brazil. I spent the first few months thinking of fun things we could do together, and the next several months hoping that somehow this pandemic would end quickly enough that it might still happen. By August I had given up on that dream.

2020 has been a year of major adjustments for our family. The year started with my mom having serious health issues. As a result she decided (reluctantly) to move to assisted living. Half of her possessions were moved into her new place when all of those plans were put on hold in mid-March. Her life, and the lives of myself and two siblings were rather chaotic for several months as a result. 

If that wasn't enough drama in the midst of a pandemic, my son's marriage broke up too. It was a quick clean cut - a shock to the system, and the fact I had been blissfully ignorant of his unhappiness made me feel inadequate as a parent. The one bright spot in the midst of this change was that he planned to come home for Christmas, and for several months I hoped that I'd have guests from Brazil, my younger son, and then possibly his new girlfriend as well, all here for Christmas!

This was going to be a once in a lifetime kind of Christmas, and naturally I'm a bit blue that it isn't going as planned.

I grew up in a family with five siblings, two parents who loved to entertain, and a grandmother - all under one roof. Christmas in our household was fun, busy, chaotic and filled with good food and entertainment. When I married an only child (with a mother who never even bothered to put up a Christmas tree!) - my big family Christmases ended. It was a mutual decision between my husband and myself. When we first married, I worked retail and he was a graduate student. We didn't own a car, and each got four days off over Christmas, so it just didn't make sense to spend money we didn't have on bus tickets to the Soo, and spend two of those precious days traveling. In honesty, I think my husband was every bit as reluctant to be bombarded with a noisy household full of Floods as I was to spend four days in Windsor with a mother-in-law I had dubbed "the Grinch". We made the difficult decision to stay put and have our Christmases alone, telling our parents that we would be happy to host them in future years. It's a decision neither of us has regretted.

That first Christmas was difficult - partly because we both had the flu and ate nothing but chicken soup! The following year we were busy with a three month old baby, and the year after we had a toddler and a newborn! Christmas with my own little family became the new normal. Making the season fun for my boys became my first priority. We developed our own rituals and borrowed liberally from Flood family traditions. I'll even confess that when my sons were young I was secretly relieved that I didn't have to monitor their sugared up high spirits on Christmas Day in front of their somewhat crotchety grandfather. 

After my father died, when my sons were eight and nine, we took our place in my mother's Christmas visiting rotation. It was gratifying to host my mom, and to have her help, and her company, in the kitchen over the holidays. (Too much time alone in the kitchen has always been my only complaint about doing "our own" Christmas.)

I love our quiet family celebrations - the very same kind of celebration that most of you are balking at this year! I understand the appeal of lots of friends and family, of parties and noise and lots of laughter - those were the Christmases of my childhood - however, I can attest to the fact that quieter celebrations with only the people who ordinarily dwell under your roof can be just as wonderful. Granted, most of those Christmases we had a few parties and concerts to attend, and those are things we will all miss this year. Still, the internet has more offerings than ever right now, and we can watch performances by some of the best musicians in the world without purchasing expensive tickets, traveling to far flung venues or putting on pants!

My husband and I get along well, and we both enjoy an easy, relaxed rapport with our sons. I am beyond grateful for that, especially knowing that these last nine months have been very difficult for people who live with difficult situations and relationships at home. I know that familiarity can breed contempt, but if you are so sick of our husband or kids that Christmas alone with them seems like dire punishment, then you have much bigger problems in your life than too few guests at your beautifully set table.

This is the year to connect more creatively. Since May, we have been having a weekly video chat and game playing night with our son in Boston. A few times, one of the students we hosted from Brazil joined in too! I am so grateful for the technology that enables these fun evenings; for messages that can be exchanged almost instantaneously, and the baking tutorials and recipe exchanges that allow my son to have a taste of home while living in the United States.

Christmas isn't cancelled because the entire clan can't gather under one roof! Like so many other things in our lives, our attitude toward the holidays this year determines the outcome.

That brings me to the second half of this post...

Last year (after a few really difficult winters), I came to the sad reality that SAD is a reality in my life. I have experienced mental illness first hand, and observed long term depression in a loved one for years. When you are in the grip of depression, you aren't able to just "buck up" and "change your attitude" on a dime. In 2019, I basically became a hermit as soon as the days started becoming short and dark, so nine months of relative isolation (as in being isolated except for the closest relatives, lol) has seemed a lot more like about fourteen months for me. Being fairly introverted has made this bearable, but I still really miss seeing friends from less than two metres away, and getting the occasional hug from someone other than my husband, son or mother.

I don't enjoy having to keep my distance all the time, but because my conscience is healthy, and my mental health sometimes fragile, I know that if I infected someone around me with Covid-19 because I felt I "needed" a hug, that would be more danger to my mental health than wearing a mask and maintaining physical distance ever could.

While I'm in confession mode, I'll also admit to being more than a touch claustrophobic. I don't enjoy wearing a mask, but again, I see it as a necessity. I have a strong constitution, and I know it's a distinct possibility that I could be Covid-19 positive and carry this virus to someone else by getting too close to them. My husband tells me that if fear of harming others was graded on a scale from one to ten I would be at least a nine point five. It is worth an hour of discomfort to mask up before I buy groceries, run errands or go anywhere in public.

By necessity, this Christmas will be unlike any other we will celebrate. That doesn't mean it has to be horrible. We can still visit friends and family - outside, and from a safe distance. We can still have fun - with the people we live with. We can be stoic about not giving others the hugs we crave too, because we want all of us to be around to give and receive hugs for many years to come.

Most of you will have my usual Christmas this year. It's not so bad. I will have my usual Christmas this year too, and while I'll be sad about not seeing my son and his girlfriend, or hosting guests from Brazil, I will be satisfied to know that by living in accordance with current restrictions, and more importantly following my conscience, I am keeping myself and others as safe as I can.

I will find some "merry" because I am fortunate; I love the people I live with, and I know I am protecting those I don't live with by forgoing hugs and holiday meals.

Let's stop complaining. Enough is enough. Believe me when I say it one more time - our sacrifices are our surest and best way of showing love.

Love is all we really need to find some joy in this holiday season.

First Place: Why Affordable Housing Matters -By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

First House

In memories of yesteryear
I see that house - large and austere
that we so yearned for, long we sought
house of our own before we bought.
Our first meal there I'll not forget -
we didn't have a table yet -
but pizza picnic on the floor
was heaven; who could ask for more?
The wallpaper just didn't suit,
I tackled it, quite resolute
to older owners' taste erase
and put my own stamp on my place.
Six years we lived within those walls,
our lively voices filled the halls,
and when at last that home we left
tears freely fell - we were bereft.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, Nov 2, 2020

When my husband decided to run for mayor of our municipality he decided that affordable housing would be one of his key issues. It was a subject that hit very close to home. When we decided to move to a more rural setting, our grown son decided he would come with us, his hope being that he would find employment here and be able to buy his own home nearby "a few years down the road".

He quickly found a full time position at one of the local factories nearby, and immediately began saving. None of us anticipated the quick, steep rise in real estate prices in the area. Within a year prices had risen by 50%, and within two years homes were selling for about 90% more than they were when we had purchased. This was great news for sellers and real estate agents, but a horrible situation for young people such as our son, who were hoping to buy their first home.

Sam has been banking most of his pay cheque for more than four years now, and has a pretty impressive down payment accumulated. In fact, he has 80% of the total cost of the first house Todd and I bought sitting in his bank account! Sadly, given his current wage he couldn't qualify for a mortgage on a shack - not even if he put a third of the total cost on the table as a down payment!

He isn't alone in his inability to gain a foothold on the local housing ladder. North Perth is a community with an abundance of low paying jobs available. At any given time, two or three of the factories will be actively recruiting workers, and in order to remain fully staffed, local industry buses people in from nearby communities. Stores and restaurants always have signs in windows. This is a community with a job surplus - sounds like paradise, right?

Wrong. The workers that are bused into our town take the pay they earn here and spend it elsewhere. If they could afford to live here, they would be contributing to the community and the local economy, but like my son, they can't find affordable housing.

Houses are being built here all the time, but they tend to be large, expensive family homes that are appealing to wealthy retirees and big city folk who view the town as a "bedroom community" for Kitchener/Waterloo. They are used to the amenities in larger centers, and are willing to drive an hour for shopping and entertainment. They don't tend to shop locally, or get involved in local affairs. Other than tax dollars, they contribute little to the town they live in. However, in the not-distant future, a lot of these people will be older and less inclined to trek back and forth to the city; they will suddenly want to shop and dine here, but without adequate housing for waitresses, retail workers and others who would gladly live, work, and actively contribute to the economy, it seems likely that a decade from now, when our recent McMansion purchasers want to utilize amenities and services, we will have fewer to offer them. 

If, on the other hand, we were to find developers who were willing to build small, affordable houses that factory workers, waitresses and retail employees could afford, our town would be in a position to expand its current amenities and services. These are people who would work here, shop here and play here. If we continue to build, and market, homes that will be purchased by retirees willing to pay more than homes are worth - simply because they are selling their current homes for an even more inflated value - we deprive ourselves of the very citizens that will keep our town vital for years to come.

Allow me to switch gears for a bit and tell you the story of how my husband and I purchased our first home...

When we married, Todd was a graduate student and I worked retail. We were very much "working class poor" - especially after I proved to be a fertile Myrtle who had two surprise pregnancies in the first two years of our marriage! With a toddler and infant to look after, it was no longer feasible for me to work retail, and I wasn't really qualified to do anything else. There was no government-sponsored daycare then, and my parents and mother-in-law lived in other cities. If I had gone back to work, 75% of my pay would've gone to the babysitter, and the other 25% would've been eaten up by transportation costs and a new "work wardrobe" (trust me - you don't have two babies in two years without moving up a size or two.) We didn't have money for me to re-train for a more lucrative career, and furthermore, I wanted to stay home with my sons. We lived like paupers in a housing co-op, dreaming of the day when home ownership would become a possibility. 

I get very frustrated when people brag about "earning their own way" and being "self made". The truth of the matter is that getting ahead financially depends on a whole raft of factors that we often have no control over. There is a lot of "poor shaming" that goes on when people struggle financially. It seems that some who are financially lucky (and yes, lucky IS the word) find comfort in believing that those who are less fortunate are "lazy" or "made bad choices". Let me set you straight if you have been guilty of applying those labels. My husband has worked hard our entire marriage. We budget carefully and don't make extravagant purchases. We live in a big house because it was a bargain, costing us considerably less than the home we sold in Kitchener. We struggled for years, and are still far from rich. But I digress...

We thought, in those early years of marriage and parenthood, that a house of our own was a very distant dream. And then one day I got a call from my husband's grandmother, and that staunch prairie woman told me in her blunt way that she was dying of cancer and intended to give us a one-time cash gift while she was still alive so none of us would have the hassle of paying inheritance taxes. By today's standards this gift was a pittance but because we had lived so frugally, it allowed us to wipe out what debts we had and still have enough for a down payment on a modest home.

So I have to ask this question to all of those "self made" individuals - did you really achieve all of your success by yourself, or did you have some help along the way? I'm not ashamed to be honest; we were able to purchase when we did - six years into our marriage - because Todd's no-nonsense Grandma helped us out.

We shopped for months before we found the house we wanted, and I can tell you that stepping into our first house felt like Christmas Day, the best birthday ever, and the excitement I'd felt about becoming a parent all rolled up in one big bundle! We had furniture for half the rooms in the house, and our kids slept on mattresses on the floor until my parents bought them twin beds as a housewarming gift. We scrimped and saved to buy paint and a bit of wallpaper. We took out carpeting and refinished floors. We both knew full well when we walked through those doors that we had a lot of hard work and sacrifice ahead of us. We didn't care - we finally had a home of our own, and a mortgage payment that was less expensive than the rent we had been paying.

I want you to let that last sentence sink in. My son Sam could get an apartment in the North Perth area that would cost him $1600.00 per month. The landlord wouldn't care if he ate KD every day of the week to make the rental payment, and would simply evict him if he couldn't. On the other hand, no bank would give him approval for a mortgage payment that costs half as much, because "he wouldn't be able to afford it". 

That friends, is why we need to find reasonable housing solutions! Why should landlords get rich while tenants get caught in a cycle of paying rents that are so outrageous that they will never be able to invest in a home? Why should we cater only to the affluent in terms of the housing options we offer as a community? Where are the "angels" who will invest in housing the "working class poor" the way Grandma K. invested in us? Where are the innovators who will consider "out of the box" solutions to housing. (I mean that literally - have you looked at some of the amazing factory-built and modular housing options that are available - out there....somewhere...?)

Why can't they become available here? Our community needs the kind of citizens who would buy them.

My son is actually quite fortunate. Our large home has an undeveloped attic that he is now thinking of having finished for himself. Furthermore, the three of us get along really well, and we have agreed that if the attic is his option, we will enter into an agreement with him that makes him a co-owner of our home. Not every single, working class Joe or Joan has parents with a gigantic attic that they can convert, or parents that they get along well enough with to even consider that sort of arrangement an option.

The wealthy among us buy and buy. Most lose that sense of profound gratitude and wonder for their home by the time they've moved three or four rungs up the property ladder... on which so many of our kids currently struggle to get a toe hold.

I can't speak for the rest of you, but I want my sons to experience that. We can do better. We need to do better. Our hardworking kids deserve better.

Sober Second Thought - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

On Second Thought...

A plea for sober second thought
is what I will attempt
in era rife with issues hot
and posts full of contempt.
Consider that your friends may think
far differently than you -
unless, of course, to raise a stink
is what you want to do!
Consider posting sources for
the "facts" that you display.
Consider people you adore
and don't want to dismay!
Just stop to think, "Is this post nice?
Am I sure I'm correct?"
New adage now - "Post once; think twice,
and try to show respect!"
It seems to me we're all on edge
and ought to show more care.
Is this post a divisive wedge,
or one I ought to share?

-by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, July 29, 2020


This is the longest hiatus I've ever taken from writing since I began this blog more than nine years ago. Never before have I struggled so much to write anything. The chaos in the world right now leaves me feeling bogged down; I'm mentally and emotionally exhausted a lot of the time - my patience is often as short as my days (and nights!) are long.

I'd love to be able to feel that looking in on social media is a pleasant break in my day - a chance to connect with friends in an otherwise disconnected world - but that hasn't been my experience. Even Facebook Messenger, which has been my primary source of genuine connection with family and friends afar, has occasionally been hijacked by those who want to spam every person on their friends list with the latest conspiracy theory they have bought into. A few others have felt a strong need to reprimand me for expressing an opinion contrary to their own. In one case, a "friend" blasted me with such unbridled vitriol that I became convinced this was an individual who never really liked me much in the first place. Needless to say, this person has been unfriended. Ironically, she accused me of "toxic negativity" in her rant, which was the very definition thereof.

Since then I have been very cautious in my interactions online. I have strong opinions about many things, and on the rare occasions when I've expressed them I've done so very gingerly, choosing both words and tone carefully. I don't like conflict, and I don't want to be someone who instigates it. I have carefully culled my Facebook friends; unfriended a few, unfollowed many, and hit "hide this post" more times than most could imagine. You are all entitled to your opinions, and I am entitled to avoid those that I find upsetting, unsettling, and generally bad for my mental health.

One friend posted a meme that said, "If you're not hearing much from me right now, take it personally." I understand the sentiment. If you speak up loudly in vocal support of orange and oily politicians, or basically any of the causes such folk espouse, I have long since stopped following your posts. If you are anti-science, anti vaccine, or convinced that Covid-19 is a hoax, I no longer expose myself to your rants.

My husband is much more diplomatic than I am. He says he feels that he needs to see "a cross-section of opposing ideas" in his feed. Here's my take - some of what I see online these days makes me feel as comfortable around you as I would be around someone who would proudly proclaim -

"I ate someone yesterday! And I'm going to eat someone else tomorrow!"

Now I know a person's dietary choices are their own business, and it's not like this person has invited me over to dine (or be dined upon!), but gosh - I just can't quite bring myself to feel comfortable around anyone who makes this particular statement. What I believe is good and "normal" feels threatened when I hear such things, and therefore, by extension, the person who made this utterance within earshot of me is now viewed as a shady character. I'm not even going to apologize for seeing it that way.

When I hear you bragging about your "right" to not wear a mask, I feel frightened for everyone who comes into contact with you. When I hear you say you won't be vaccinated when a vaccine is developed, I shake my head in disbelief. When I see posts that proclaim how ignorant you are, I just want to avoid you. I'm sorry if that makes me seem like an intolerant person in your eyes, but the one thing I have no fear of being intolerant of is the arrogance that makes some feel that they know better than the best scientists and brightest minds on the planet.

Everyone has had to make sacrifices during this pandemic. I have a son in the USA who I will probably not see for a year or more. I miss him a lot. I have former students I've hosted living in Italy and Brazil, and the way things are going I wonder sometimes if I'll ever see those kids again - if the world will ever "normalize" enough that getting on a plane to go that far will be affordable - or an option at all...

I'm sorry if you think that wearing a mask for half an hour in Walmart is the ultimate sacrifice, but to me it seems like a little thing when compared to not seeing a family member for a year or more, or, in a worst case scenario, having a family member die alone from Covid-19. If it makes you feel any better about doing it, I'll tell you that I really appreciate you wearing that mask - I'm pushing sixty and diabetic, and married to someone with severe asthma. Furthermore, I'm more than a tad claustrophobic, and yet somehow I can manage wearing a mask for an hour, as can my asthmatic spouse.

Speaking of my husband, for those of you who clamour for our politicians, on all levels, to give up their paycheques, let me say this:

Municipal politics in this country isn't exactly a big money-maker. (If you think our politicians are spoiled, read up on what politicians in Brazil are paid. It might help you appreciate Canada a bit more.) My husband calculates that for the hours he puts in these days, he makes about eight dollars an hour. Considering that contracts in his "real" job are almost all on indefinite hold, every single bit he brings in is necessary. Please, think twice before you lump all politicians into the greedy bastard category, okay?

I want you all to know this:

• I take Covid-19 seriously. I believe it's real and dangerous. If you don't, that's a problem for me, because if you don't socially distance AND wear a mask when you are near me, you put both of us at risk. My health might mean little to you, but my conscience works overtime. I don't want to be responsible for anyone's illness or death, and I genuinely believe it's possible for me to carry this virus without exhibiting any symptoms. 

• I believe that even if the dangers of Covid-19 are grossly exaggerated (and I'm pretty certain they're not), it can't possibly hurt to be as cautious and considerate of each other as possible. I cringe when I see pictures of large family gatherings online, of crowded beaches and tourist attractions. I know that now we "can" meet in larger groups, but in my opinion, that doesn't mean we should. I'm happy to enjoy a socially distanced visit, but please don't be upset that I don't want to shake hands, hug you, or sit too close. I promise that it isn't personal, and I will hug you again when it is safe. For now, will you just humour me, even if you think I'm being a bit of a fanatic?

• I believe that the economy isn't nearly as important as peoples' lives, that school isn't the only place our kids can learn, that going without a pool or splash pad for a summer isn't going to seriously endanger anyone's mental health, and that we all need to "chill out" in more productive ways.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - we don't need to comment on every post we see. We can just scroll on by most of them, hide the ones that are most odious to us, unfollow or even un-friend those who post almost nothing we agree with.

Life is short, and if times like these haven't hammered that message home then nothing will. Stay safe and be kind.

Think twice.