I’m pretty sure that there’s no-one left who hasn’t heard that Cpl Nathan Cirillo was killed standing honour guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, steps away from our federal government buildings.
The gunman then ran to House of Commons, where he was gunned down by security and RCMP, just steps away from rooms where our MPs were in caucus.
All my loved ones, friends and family were inconvenienced, and worried. but none of them were hurt. While my heart goes out to the family of the slain soldier, especially his young son, I am deeply grateful that the situation never got worse.
This incident happened only 24 hours ago, but already speeches and tweets and posts and everybody has an opinion on why he did it, who he was affiliated with, and whether we should expect more of the same.
I am already heartily sick of the finger-pointing, the armchair quarterbacking, and the sabre rattling.
So, I am declaring the rhetoric over, in my world at least. Until there are some definitive answers, or as close as we can come anyway, I’m not listening.
So, back to our regularly scheduled program…. cleaning my fridge. Every fall I try to tear my fridge apart and clean it. I pull everything out, look at expiry dates (seriously? This tofu expired in 2009?! Where was it hiding?)
For most people, this would be an afternoon, or even an hour’s work. But because I can’t stand up for more than 10 minutes, or bend over for more than a few seconds, without severe pain, it takes me all week. One shelf a day.
So far, three of the five shelves are clean and much emptier. If you include the 2 chiller drawers and the cheese drawer (and the shelves in the door itself) I should still be finished by Nanowrimo.
And I’m taking the mindlessness of washing shelves to think about Nano. About plot twists, and characters, and Stephen King. He said “Kill your darlings. Kill your darlings, even if it breaks your egotistical little scribbler’s heart.”
So…. who should I kill? Washing mold out of the fridge from a long forgotten bottle of now fermented and unidentifiable food, makes we want to kill someone…
And bonus? I now have enough canning jars for my annual Yule jelly making. Hm… mango for Michel, hot pepper for dear hubby’s sisters….