Scenes from a Canadian cottage garden

 Photographs taken the evening of September 7, 2023.

Evening, and the light is coming in diagonally and preparing 
for ever diminishing brightness

Phlox are back for a second bloom

 

On the right, that's a sumac tree that self-seeded
and in three years is at least 15 feet high

The brown-eyed Susans are reaching
the end of summer, the cone flowers
are mostly finished

See those little things towards the right?
They are a cloud of little flies one sees 
in the summer

Sometimes the dying and dead flowers
can be attractive

There is that sumac again

A hollyhock, they are a lot more difficult to grow
than they should be; they were weeds in my youth,
now they are biennials and celebrated when flowering

A huge hosta, as though I have some special
ability to grow hostas... well, they grow themselves
and the best advice is to leave them alone and they'll get it right

The house is covered in vines as though old people
who don't maintain their home live here. . . someone tells
me they are bad for the brick work and I plan to cut them back

Some planning can go a long way

Black currants I planted three years ago

This did so well

My wife planted this gingko tree about fifteen
years ago beside our front lawn, it has done well

"September 1913" by W.B. Yeats

 

William Butler Yeats in 1923

What need you, being come to sense,

But fumble in a greasy till

And add the halfpence to the pence

And prayer to shivering prayer, until

You have dried the marrow from the bone;

For men were born to pray and save:

Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,

It’s with O’Leary in the grave.

Yet they were of a different kind,

The names that stilled your childish play,

They have gone about the world like wind,

But little time had they to pray

For whom the hangman’s rope was spun,

And what, God help us, could they save?

Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,

It’s with O’Leary in the grave.

Was it for this the wild geese spread

The grey wing upon every tide;

For this that all that blood was shed,

For this Edward Fitzgerald died,

And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone,

All that delirium of the brave?

Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,

It’s with O’Leary in the grave.

Yet could we turn the years again,

And call those exiles as they were

In all their loneliness and pain,

You’d cry, ‘Some woman’s yellow hair

Has maddened every mother’s son’:

They weighed so lightly what they gave.

But let them be, they’re dead and gone,

They’re with O’Leary in the grave.

"Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell

 

Traffic on Snowdon in 1947

They paved paradise, put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swingin' hot spot

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot
(Ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop, ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop)

They took all the trees put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people a dollar an' a half just to see 'em

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot
(Ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop, ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop)

Hey farmer, farmer put away that DDT now
Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees
Please

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot
(Ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop, ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop)

Late last night I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi took away my old man

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot (ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop)

I said don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot (ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop)
They paved paradise, put up a parking lot (ooh, bop-bop-bop-bop)
They paved paradise
Put up a parking lot

Memo from Montreal to Toronto:

 

A green belt is for perpetuity,

not for the convenience

of politicians and their friends;

this housing Ford wants,

it's 1950s suburban development,

letting developers and politicians get rich.

Note: Premier Doug Ford of Ontario is relentless in his support for building houses on the green belt outside of Toronto. I doubt he understands that a population that, in general, supports climate change is not sympathetic to building houses and highways on the green belt. Why not build on land zoned residential? The project is already sullied with corruption.

City adding flower gardens to street corners

A few years ago the City of Montreal began building wider sidewalks in this area of the city, they have also added flower beds at the end of streets. There are other flower beds, like the ones pictured below, in other areas of the neighbourhood, but this is on the next street over from us. Planted here are perennials, cone flowers, brown-eyed susans, day lilies, hydrangeas, and so. They are all perennials and should be left to winter over, no problem with that, but it occurred to be that this fall they will probably get remove all of these flowers instead of leaving them for next spring and summer. Bureaucracy likes to tidy things up, efficiency and economy is what counts. In the meantime, let me congratulate the city on this excellent addition to urban living.

Corners of Coronation Avenue and Chester Avenue

That's Gilbert Layton Park in the background, 
the grandfather of former NDP leader Jack Layton

Monsters of power and bureaucracy

 

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau

I think it was back in the fall of 1983 when I arrived at Newfoundland's St. John's International Airport to give a reading from my new book, Divisions (Coach House Press, 1983) at Memorial University. I remember that when I arrived there was a group of people greeting what appeared to be a man of some importance from Ottawa; the following year, 1984, was the terminal year for Pierre Elliot Trudeau's government. I wondered about how solicitous they were and my intuition told me this was no ordinary bureaucrat, this was a man with power, someone who had to be dealt with with kid leather gloves.  And that's what happens to a government when it's at the end of its life, privilege and entitlement have settled in and become obvious, the self-importance of people is obvious, and monsters of power and bureaucracy are obvious. There are some of us with hypocrisy radar, we see it, we hate it, we condemn it. 

    The times they are a changing, or so they say, and you can't stop time, change, or  whatever the future holds; as Heraclitus wrote, "You can't step into the same river twice", if the river is the water in the river then it is always changing, even the river banks are subject to erosion and change. Justin Trudeau was never Pierre Elliot Trudeau, he doesn't have his father's intelligence or his education; Trudeaumania doesn't apply to Justin however much Justin craves popularity. I keep hearing people saying, usually about climate change, that we are in an "existential" crisis; but we are also in another existential crisis, that the existence of our values, our traditions, our way of life, is threatened by progressives and the woke. These people, including Justin and his gang of politicians and the people who run the CBC, don't think we even have any Canadian values, traditions, or a way of life, and that is a big part of the problem in this country. As always, you have two types of people: those who want change even though they either have no idea where it will take us, or it will take us somewhere the population doesn't want to go, and you have other people who want to conserve the best of the past and they see the Liberal government destroying what made Canada a great country in which to live. 

    In the first half of the 20th Century Argentina was one of the most prosperous countries in the world with one of the highest GDPs. What happened? A military coup  d'état happened, political instability happened, and Argentina has never recovered her former affluence. Is it possible that  Canada is the next Argentina? We are already not as well off as we were before Justin was elected: our standard of living is declining; home ownership is impossible for the average person; Montreal used to be a renters market, rents here and across Canada are now prohibitively high; food is very expensive; homelessness has increased; drug addiction has never been worse than now; the medical system and health care is collapsing; medical assistance in dying, doctor assisted euthanasia, is now a part of our health and social care, and death is sometimes offered to people who, with a little help, could return to living useful lives; the population has swelled to over 40 million in the name of increasing the number of workers in the country; Justin has denigrated the military and Hockey Canada, it is obvious that traditional male dominated activities are suspect and foreign to him; he has normalized and imposed political correctness on the country; he has worked to destroy freedom of speech in Canada, he promotes cancel culture; he has promoted woke and progressive causes that are essentially opposed to traditional Canadian values; he has betrayed English speaking Quebecers and our constitutional right to use our language; he does not adhere to the truth, so he's a liar; he is a narcissist; in sum, he is not a serious person and he has made us look like we, as a country, are not serious. 

    Why would anyone think that the Justin Trudeau years have been anything but a disaster? So, if Pierre Poilievre is abrasive it is not only that his personality is abrasive or that he is politically ambitious, it is because he can clearly see the damage Justin has inflicted on the country. How did Justin do it? He spent us into debt that we, as a nation, will never see paid off; he is a poor manager of both the economy and the government; his causes are gender fluidity, diversity, and climate change, he is truly woke and progressive; and he comes from a class of people who are rich and careless and spend their way out of every mess they create, but he's spending his way out the mess he's created with our money. And the country is a broken mess because of the disaster of Justin Trudeau.

The CBC, Pyongyang, North Korea

May as well be a CBC news reader 

In 1936, the Canadian Radio Broadcasting Commission (CRBC) became the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC), which was a crown corporation. The CBC had a better organizational structure, more secure funding through the use of a licence fee on receiving sets (initially set at $2.50), and less vulnerability to political pressure.^[84] When Bennett's Conservatives were governing and the Liberals were in Opposition, the Liberals accused the network of being biased towards the Conservatives. During the 1935 election campaign, the CRBC broadcast a series of 15 minutes soap operas called Mr. Sage which were critical of King and the Liberal Party. Decried as political propaganda, the incident was one factor in King's decision to replace the CRBC.^[85]

                                                --from the Wiki page for Prime Minister MacKenzie-King 

So, right from the start the CBC has been accused of being biased, but it has never been as bloated and obese as it is now, $1.5B a year government subsidy--radio, television, cable, podcasts, and internet--and a history of being accused of bias. But it has also never been as biased as it is now with its woke, progressive agenda. 

    At times, it seems the CBC is the alter-ego of Justin Trudeau and it is then that I feel the CBC is broadcasting from some hermit kingdom, Ottawa, Ontario, always oblivious to their audience and persistent in promoting their woke causes. Maybe it is Pyongyang, North Korea, Justin likes dictators like Fidel Castro or the president of China and, like Justin, the CBC have no consideration for the audience, no consideration of service to their public, no consideration to tell us anything about Canada that actually exists, in fact no respect for  Canadians, no history, no religion and no religious broadcasts, not even any  programmes on Indigenous spirituality and culture, no programmes on the history of Quebec or Quebec culture, very little about any part of Canada outside of Toronto, no cultural regional broadcasts of concerts (as you will hear on BBC Radio Three, concerts recorded in regional Quebec), nothing on the culture of Canada unless it's Toronto-centric and biased and woke and progressive, no idea of the daily life of average Canadians, no programmes about the values of Canadians, nothing about the history and people they now demean as "European settlers" just as they demean pregnant women as "pregnant people"; but if a statue of Sir John A. Macdonald or Queen Victoria is being pulled down or splattered with paint, they'll be there rooting for the protesters, promoting the cause, condemning historical figures who helped build the country so that entities like the CBC can exist, doing all they can to attack the country under their three categories of interest: diversity, gender fluidity, and climate change. Do I exaggerate? Of course I exaggerate to make my point, but I am not exaggerating too much. 

    Considering how much money they get the CBC ratings are not good. If you want "news" and not opinion, watch CTV News, Global, or one of the other networks; maybe watch PBS Newshour or listen to the BBC World Service. A lot of money is being spent on the CBC's National News on cable, every night these people are seen jet setting to remote parts of the world to report on climate change or gender fluidity; I've seen them deep sea diving to report on the coral reefs, visiting London to interview Princess Anne, at the South Pole to report on climate change, and elsewhere; it isn't cheap, it's expensive.

    And I remember Wendy Mesley, a former Montrealer and one of the CBC's finest journalists, who was forced out of the CBC; as it was reported, she mentioned the French title of a 1968 book by Pierre Vallières that alludes to the "N" word, she was trying to educate these Toronto people at the CBC, but this made them feel uncomfortable and not safe.  I remember, as well, one of the CBC's woke dramas -- all of their dramas are woke -- in which high school girls were having fits and convulsions because of some illness, as far as I could make out, it was called "conversion" (maybe this drama sailed over my head); it took a while but it seems, without actually saying it, that the "conversion" these girls were reacting to was related to their sexuality, their gender fluidity, and then they trotted out soil pollution as the cause. Go figure. Meanwhile, on the other networks, not a word about woke or progressive causes, just Hudson and Rex and Private Eyes, entertainment that entertains, not propaganda disguised as drama. The CBC has even turned Murdoch Mysteries into a woke drama; is Heartland next to go? 

    When a broadcaster, like the CBC, whether it is Pravda in Moscow or Granma in Havana, or the harridan yelling the news on North Korean television, begins with a conclusion and a premise, it is not news, it is opinion, it is biased. I know there are good reporters at the CBC, Wendy Mesley was one of them as is Andrew Nichols, David Common, and Natasha Fatah. The CBC is Toronto, GTA-centric, they seem to think that Toronto represents Canada and their progressive and woke opinions are Canadian values, but they aren't. And if you watch the evening news on cable CBC, with its woman announcer, good luck seeing even one man reporting, it is a no man zone, it has become a mostly woman news broadcast. It all speaks to an exhausted corporation that is on the downward slide.

At the Medical Arts Building

The Medical Arts Building

23 August 2023

Old photo of Medical Arts Building, corner of Sherbrooke Street West
and where Guy becomes Cote des Neiges Road; photo from the 1920s.

Located on the corner of Guy Street and Sherbrooke Street West, the Medical Arts Building is still a location for doctors and other professionals. Many years ago I went to a meeting of the Theosophical Society of Montreal in this building; it was a small office with many shelved books wrapped in brown paper dust jackets. I was there to hear a lecture on the teachings of J. Krishnamurti; you might know that when Krishnamurti was a child he was discovered by Leadbetter, a friend of Annie Besant and a prominent member of the Theosophical Society in the early 1900s. The discovery was prescient and Krishnamurti went on the become one of the most important spiritual teachers of the 20th Century. 

    Recently, I was on the tenth floor of the Medical Arts building and looking out of the window, looking west along Sherbrooke Street, I noticed buildings that are important to my family. There was the Grand Seminaire (the College de Montreal), formerly run by the Sulpician Order that still owns this and other properties, for instance, Cote des Neiges Cemetery, on the Island of Montreal. My two great great uncles, Fr. Martin Callaghan and Fr. James Callaghan were educated at le College de Montreal and they both went on to prominent roles in the city; for instance, Fr. Martin was the first Montreal-born pastor at St. Patrick's Church; Fr. James was pastor at St. Ann’s Church in Griffintown. Fr. Martin and Fr. James are buried at the crypt below the church at the Grand Seminaire de Montreal. A third brother, Fr. Luke Callaghan, was the man who saved  St. Mary's Hospital when its survival was in doubt. Fr. James and Fr. Martin are buried in the crypt under the large chapel at the Grand Seminaire de Montreal; Fr. Luke is buried at Cote des Neiges Cemetery.

Above photos 23 August 2023

    Across the street from the Grand Seminaire is the Masonic Temple, where my grandfather and uncle were both Masons.  It is a magnificent building and I haven't caught that magnificence and size in these photos.

Above photos 23 August 2023

    Near here, almost next door to the Masonic Temple, is the Heffel Art Gallery with its Joe Fafard statue of "Emily Carr and her friends" outside. Very nice! We are all Emily Carr fans.

 

    Then, a few blocks west, still on Sherbrooke Street West, I could see the Mother House where my mother attended secretarial school. She completed her diploma at the High School of Montreal, it is still located on University Street but is now dedicated to art education, and then attended the Mother House. This was a popular secretarial school in the past and the girls got good jobs upon completion of their studies. My mother worked for a jeweler located in the Hermes Building; the family that owned the business invited her to their summer cottage, which my mother's protective father did not allow, and they asked her to stay working for them when she announced she was leaving to get married in 1940; she always spoke with fondness about this family and her years of working for them.

    And finally, across the street from the Mother House is where my son lived while he attended Dawson College (which now occupies the buildings of the Mother House). During the 1997 Ice Storm, my mother stayed with my son at his apartment in this building; I was in Vancouver during this time. When I returned home at the end of the Ice Storm the grounds of Dawson College were strewn with broken branches and broken trees. 

 

  

    This is what I mean by living in a community and the community giving back to you a sense of belonging, of history and remembering the ancestors and listening as they speak to you, of having a place in society that began with your ancestors and history and respecting the ancestors by remembering them and honouring what they did for society and for you in particular. I say "God bless them all!"

 

Night view of the twin towers, College de Montreal; around 2011

Just to conclude, this stretch of Sherbrooke Street West, from Atwater to Guy Street, is one of the places where I've always parked when downtown; usually I can find a parking space here; but it is also a street that I like to walk along, a street of apartment buildings and offices and historical buildings and people out walking to work or walking their dogs. Here is something of what it looks like.

Note: everything is years ago now, but years ago I visited an acupuncturist with a friend and when the Asian doctor heard that we were poets he said that one of his patients was Artie Gold; that must have been mid to late 1990s. Located in the Grosvenor Building, 1610 Sherbrooke West, north-west corner of the street.

Living in the fallen state of Canada

Diogenes searching for an honest person in Athens

 

One day in the early 1980s I was watching soccer on television with my old friend Reg Skinner, this was at his home in Blackwater, Camberley, UK; when the occasional goal was scored the crowd roared its approval and the players jumped into each others' arms, they were jubilant. Reg, who was in his early 70s, was critical of the effusive emotion. "They never did any of this emotional celebrating over a goal in the past," he said, "they scored and that was it." But this is the way of today's world; we have moved from an introverted world to one that is extroverted and emotionally demonstrative. Now, it's the optics that counts, how it looks, and how it looks is meant for the media, the media wants bigger than life people because exaggerated acts, or acting, comes across better in the media; so we have people jumping up and down when called to be on The Price is Right, high fives and fist bumps, even rolling on the ground as though about to break dance; is this for real? Are they really this happy?  We also have the political class, they will do anything for a vote, including glad handing, huge smiles, laughing and back slapping, lying, prevaricating, making outlandish promises, doublespeak, and kissing babies; now we see Justin running along the side of the street during a Pride parade taking selfies with whoever is sitting there, what a surprise that must have been for these people, he was even wishing a toddler "Happy Pride Day!" Substance doesn't matter, appearance means everything. 

    Image over reality is what is important in politics; Pierre Poilievre removes his glasses and puts on a black T-shirt and we have a new younger contemporary Pierre Poilievre and the stodgy, cranky, critical, and abrasive Pierre is forgotten. I wonder, when did the extroverted prime minister first appear on the scene? Does the public really love a fat man with blonde hair who will build 1950s suburbia on the greenbelt outside of Toronto in 2023? These politicians are men and women for whom caricature is easy; once we had comics, like Rich Little, who could do impressions of these people and their unctuous personas; but impersonation is a dying art, the public have short memories and no longer know who the comic is satirizing.

    Perhaps the oversize politician as celebrity began in Canada with Pierre Elliot Trudeau; we used to be a fairly introverted country, we used to have respect for each other and most of the time this is still true. Pierre Elliot Trudeau was hated in the west, celebrated in the east, and then after years of a rose in his lapel, jet setting with the the stars, a wayward wife, sex with the stars, we were all happy to see him go. We said about him what divorced men say about their ex-wives, "Thank God they're gone!" We also had Brian Mulroney, easily caricatured because of the Jay Leno jutting chin, baritone voice, and singing Danny Boy onstage with Ronald Reagan, the press lapped it up; and we had Stephen Harper, he had negative charisma which might be a kind of charisma, shaking hands with his children as they left for school, a wooden Charlie McCarthy man with no sense of humour. And now we have the son of the Trudeau dynasty, Justin Trudeau, fallen in the polls but not gone.  It's the age of the prime minister as president, or as dictator, the age of polls determining policy, the age of ego, the age of emotion before substance, the age of inevitable failure, the age of integrity fallen to the age of greed and ambition. I think of Joyce Weiland`s quilt in the National Gallery of Canada, quoting Pierre Elliot Trudeau, "Reason over passion", but that was then and this is now. 

    The media and social media emphasize image over substance, and image always includes promoting one's self. An honest person will be like Diogenes who walked the streets of Athens looking for an honest man. But other people are not our problem, most people are still normal people, they may not be as honest as Diogenes would have liked but they're still our people; it is politicians who have power over us who are the problem, and to find an honest politician is bordering on impossible. Diogenes would weep.

Morrissy Bridge in better days

    And so I turn to former Prime Minister MacKenzie King and his diary that is available online; diarists are by nature introverted and thoughtful people, politicians are by nature ambitious and extroverted. There are even several entries regarding us Morrisseys in MacKenzies' diary, two entries refer to John Veriker Morrissy and his son Charles Morrissy, both Members of Parliament for Northumberland riding in New Brunswick, and there is an entry for Dr. Herb Morrissy. Dr. Morrissey is a family hero, a medical doctor who studied at both McGill University and Cornell University in the 1920s; my grandmother had a postcard in her sideboard showing the Morrissy Bridge in Newcastle, NB, the now rusting and closed down Morrissy Bidge named after John Veriker Morrissy. In the late 1990s I was contacted by Dr. Morrissy's daughter, Jane Morrissy Allan, and I met her when she visited here a few years later. I learned a lot about our family's history from Jane.

    Here is what Prime Minister MacKenzie King writes about the Morrisseys (spelled Morrissy by family in New Brunswick). A final entry in King’s diary regarding the Morrissys occurs on Tuesday, 29 July 1930, just days before the generalelection of 7 August 1930. King is in his office talking with “Bennett”, probably R.B. Bennett, his opponent in the Federal election and the Conservative prime minister from 1930 to 1935. It is impossible to conceive this kind of informal meeting happening today. King begins by making some comments about Bennett’s appearance, “he looked pretty well but is heavier and flabbier I thought.” King continues, “he then said something our having preserved the amenities & not attacked each other… I told [him] I thought I had been most careful, but that I thought he should not have brought in references to myself & the war in which rearoused & perpetuated prejudices that were most unfair…” Then, they discussed specifics of the campaign, King writes: “That New Bruns. he had counted on giving us 2 seats, that in Northumberland he thought his home appeal to sentiment etc. counted very much. I said Morrissey being drunk during prov’l fight & not getting nomination made him disaffected. He said when he was there Morrissey was working for us, & Burchill was the best possible candidate, he put that constituency [?] down to his own appeal…”

    Then, King quotes Bennett as discussing “the hideousness of drink, the curse it was, how it ruined men’s moral sense & judgment, I told him Cahill’s loss of Pontiac was I thought due to this, & we had lost several seats by personal rows, etc.” This explains something of the negative side of Charles Joseph Morrissy who, like his father, seems to have been a heavy drinker. On the positive side, for King, both John Veriker Morrissy and Charles Joseph Morrissy were influential at the provincial level and in their particular ridings; they not only had numerous political contacts but they were intelligent and hard-working men, dedicated to the Liberal Party.

    Other politicians descended from or who had familial ties with the descendants of Patrick Morrissy and Mary Phelan are Edward Matthew Farrell, a half first cousin of John Veriker Morrissy. Senator Farrell served over twenty-one years in the Canadian Senate, from 12 January 1910 to 6 June 1931 when he died. He was born in Liverpool, Nova Scotia, on 31 March 1854 and died on 6 August 1931; he worked as a publisher and printer before his appointment to the Senate on the advice of Prime Minister Wilfrid Laurier, later Sir Wifrid Laurier. George Roy McWilliam, a great nephew of John Veriker Morrissy, was born in 1905; he won seven federal elections and served almost nineteen years in the House of Commons for Northumberland-Mirimichi riding. He died on 15 May 1977. 

    Well, that was then and this is now, living in the fallen state of Canada. 

A Canadian cottage garden in August

 A Canadian cottage garden; photographs taken on 22 August 2023.

You can feel August in the air, it's cooler, the days are shorter, the sun is not as intense as it was in July.

A garden is like an extra room in your house, but it's outside. With enough plants, flowers, a bird bath, a bench to sit on, it is comfortable and inviting. Sit down over here, have a cup of tea, behind you a sparrow just visited the bird bath, all is well in the world.

Lighthouse on Lac St-Louis (in 2012)

 

“To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others.”

— Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse, 1927

Scenes from a Canadian cottage garden

One of several videos of my Canadian cottage garden. 

Walking to Meadowbrook Golf Course in mid-August