• 

A look at global population trends

Too many people is a big problem, but too few is a concern as well.

By Dan Murphy, Staff writer / September 21, 2013

• 

Aline Burasa (holding child) lives in Goma, Congo, with her six children. Her husband is a park ranger. Sub-Saharan Africa has the world's highest birthrate.

Mary Knox Merrill/The Christian Science Monitor/File

The story of the 21st century has been one of falling birthrates, rising standards of living, and a revolution in food production. But the global picture is uneven: As populations decline in wealthier nations, in other countries – particularly in Africa, says a new report – they are rising at rates that may mire their people in poverty.

Q: What countries are growing the fastest?
The 10 countries with the highest fertility rates are all in Africa, led by Niger, where women give birth to an average of 7.6 children. Burkina Faso, with a fertility rate of 6 children per woman, is the slowest growing of the 10, all of which are among the world's poorest countries as well. Recent research by the Population Reference Bureau in Washington projects that Africa's population will more than double by 2050, from 1.1 billion people today to 2.4 billion. Nigeria, already the most populous nation on the continent with 174 million people, is projected to be the third most populous in the world by 2050, with 440 million, after China and India.

Q: What countries are growing the slowest?
The surprising leader is Bosnia-Herzegovina, with just 1.2 children per woman. The others in the top 10 least-fertile countries all average 1.3 children per woman and include three Asian countries: Taiwan, Singapore, and South Korea. The others are in Europe: Moldova, Poland, Portugal, Spain, Slovakia, and Hungary. The fertility rate in the United States is 1.9 children per woman, which implies a declining population. But America is expected to grow in the coming decades because of immigration.
The average global fertility rate is now 2.5 children per woman, down from almost 5 in 1960.

Q: So does that mean Africa is in trouble and everyone else is not?
Not necessarily. While there are major concerns that population growth will outstrip economic growth in many African countries, many other countries are deeply worried about the possibility of declining populations, which undercut economic growth and leave fewer and fewer workers to provide for systems that will burgeon with retirees.

Even China is worried about the effect of a declining population 35 years after instituting its draconian "one child" policy. China was concerned that it wouldn't be able to feed its people when it made it illegal for couples to have more than one child and engaged in forced sterilizations and abortions to cut population growth. China's population, now at 1.35 billion, is expected to drop by 2050.
Q: What are the solutions?

There aren't any easy ones when it comes to the African countries whose population growth rates are so high. Rising income and education levels lead to lower fertility rates, but accomplishing those first two things is challenging – even more so when a poor country's limited educational resources are swamped by a vast number of children.

Consider Niger, which the Population Reference Bureau compares to the Netherlands, since both countries have roughly 17 million people today. At the moment, 50 percent of Niger's population is younger than age 15, compared with 17 percent of the Netherlands'. And given Niger's extremely low standard of living, parents in Niger have an unfortunate incentive to bear more children: The bureau estimates that 43,000 infants died in Niger last year. In the Netherlands, by contrast, the figure was 650.

Q: Which countries are expected to have the largest populations in 2050?
India, which has 1.3 billion people today, is expected to supplant China in the top spot by then with a projected population of 1.65 billion. The US, though still growing, will fall from its current No. 3 position, with 316 million, even though it will rise to a projected 400 million. That will put it at No. 4, behind Nigeria, which is about one-tenth the size of the US in area.

Ethiopia and Congo are expected to join the top 10 by 2050, pushing out Japan and Russia. Congo's population is projected to rise from 71 million today to 182 million, and Ethiopia's from 89 million now to 178 million.

‘Miracle’ boy survives three hours underground after being swallowed by massive sand dune

Associated Press | 13/07/13 6:30 PM ET

AP Photo/The News Dispatch, Julie McClure     Firefighters, police, and first responders dig through a sand dune at Mount Baldy near Michigan City, Ind., while for a missing 6-year-old-boy who fell into a hole Friday, June 12, 2013.

CHICAGO — A 6-year-old boy who spent more than three hours underground after being swallowed by a massive sand dune in Indiana was able to respond to “simple commands” when he arrived at a Chicago hospital, a spokesperson said.

The boy, whose survival was described as a “miracle” by a local coroner, remained in critical condition Saturday at Comer Children’s Hospital and has responded well to being on a ventilator, hospital spokeswoman Lorna Wong said in a statement.

The hospital did not detail what commands the boy responded to after he arrived. Wong later told The Associated Press she could not say if the responses were an indication that he had regained consciousness. The boy’s name and hometown have not been released at the request of the family, she said.

Michigan City, Indiana, Fire Chief Ronnie Martin told WSBT-TV on Saturday that an air pocket saved the boy’s life.

According to Bruce Rowe, a ranger at the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore park along Lake Michigan, the boy’s family said he was playing on the dune Friday when he dropped partially into it. While they were trying to dig him out, the dune collapsed, burying the boy under 11 feet (3.3 metres) of sand, he said.

The family called the police and fire dispatcher, and emergency responders were on the scene within 15 minutes and began digging by hand, Rowe said. Crews with excavating equipment were brought in to aid the rescue effort.

Martin told the South Bend, Indiana-area TV station that firefighters located the boy while prodding the dune, right after they detected the air pocket that enabled him to survive for so long underground.

They pulled him out and the boy was rushed to a Michigan City hospital, then later flown to Comer.
LaPorte County Deputy Coroner Mark Huffman told The News-Dispatch of Michigan City that the boy’s survival was a “miracle.”
“It is totally amazing,” he said.

Authorities were puzzled about the cause of the collapse, which Rowe called “unprecedented.” The section of the dune, which is more than 125 feet (38 metres) high and is known as Mount Baldy, had been cordoned off for restoration work. It will remain closed at least through the weekend and until authorities can determine if it’s still a danger.

Wong, the Comer spokeswoman, said the boy’s family wanted to express is gratitude to the emergency responders and everyone else who helped in his rescue.

“They also ask that people include this little boy in their prayers,” she said.

The Associated Press

A Volcanic Eruption, by Land and by Space

By Phil Plait

 SLATE

Posted Monday, Jan. 14, 2013, at 12:26 PM ET

Earth Observing-1 satellite image of the Plosky Tolbachik volcano eruption in eastern Russia, taken on Dec. 22, 2012. Click to haphaestenate.
Image Credit: NASA Earth Observatory

Regular readers know I am fascinated by volcanoes, and I love pictures of them taken from space.

On. Nov. 27, 2012, the remote Russian volcano Plosky Tolbachik erupted. Located in the far east of Russia on the Kamchatka peninsula, Tolbachik is actually a complex of volcanoes with two main peaks and several smaller cones. In late November, a fissure, or crack, in the Earth several kilometers long started pouring out lava and has been doing so continuously for weeks (as of Jan. 2 at least it was still erupting). The lava extruding from the vent is fast-moving, and has flowed at least 20 kilometers (12 miles) since the eruption started.

The image above was taken by the Earth Observing-1 satellite on Dec. 22, 2012. You can see the main peak to the north (upper right); the crater at the top is obvious due to the shadow of the crater rim falling across it. The plume from the new eruption—a mixture of ash and steam—is blowing west toward the Pacific Ocean, and you can see the shadow of the plume on the flank of the main peak. In this picture fresh lava is black and older lava is gray, the latter having had enough time to cool and get a coating of snow. This type of eruption is called strombolian (after the Italian volcano); characterized by medium activity and small explosions, unlike other volcanoes that can explode catastrophically and cause widespread destruction like Mt. Vesuvius did.

In the satellite picture you can also see a line of cinder cones to the south, which were created in the last eruption in 1975. That eruption happened after the largest earthquake ever recorded in the region, and lasted for well over a year. This new eruption is expected to continue for several months.

Footage from the ground is, of course, no less dramatic! Here's some amazing footage of the rivers of lava flowing from the fissure:

There is also some video of scientists at the scene, as well as tourists flocking to the area to see it for themselves. I wish I could see this in person as well! From a safe distance, of course.

Monitoring active volcanoes both from space and from the ground gives scientists vital data from different angles, both of which are needed to help us understand these massive geologic events. And given their impact on both the planet and on us, the more info and knowledge we have, the better.

[Note: If you like volcanoes as much as I do, then allow me to plug my company Science Getaways: we’ll be touring Oregon volcanoes in June!]

The Ultimate Male Arrogance

"I believe this is a mistake.  There are people of goodwill on both sides of the abortion issue and we need to send a message to voters that there is room in the Republican Party for differing perspectives....  The Republican Party would be well served to recognize in its platform that you can be pro-choice and still be a good Republican."  Scott Brown, Massachusetts Republican

What has been revealed about the Republican Party in the United States lately may not be a "war on women" exactly; it may more accurately simply be a gender-based assault on cerebral and social functioning, a kind of antediluvian reaction to one of society's more intractable and polarizing convictions revolving around women's right to control the issue of their own bodies.

But as far as positively influencing American women as potential voters for the Republican Party may be concerned, it's a step backwards.  The revelation that the platform of the Republican Party is a denial of the right of women to access abortion, terminating an unwanted pregnancy, to the extent that all abortions would be forbidden by law, inclusive of those caused by rape, has done the Republicans no good at all during this election season.

It's not all that far to November that women will conveniently overlook the asinine statement by Republican Todd Akin that a "forcible" rape would not result in a pregnancy because women are capable of biologically controlling whether or not they will become pregnant; the body kicking in to reject a pregnancy in the instance of a "forcible" rape.  No one has explained the provenance of an "unforcible"' rape.

And while there have been rumours that she-wolves (bitches) in the wild are capable of re-absorbing a foetus during times of food shortages, never has medical science come up with the whopper that human females are capable of restraining normal biological function to rejection of the formation of those differentiated cells in comprising a foetus in the wake of a rape.

Most helpfully for their own political cause, the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee pointed out that Akin was "far from alone" in his redefining of rape and his crusade to deny access to health care through the restriction of federally funded abortion procedures to women made victims of "forcible" rape.

It hasn't helped Mitt Romney's presidential prospects to have been ambushed by this revelation that his newly-chosen vice-presidential running mate, a financial whizz at a time when the U.S. really needs some economic intelligence to grapple with its looming deficit and growing debt, alongside the very possible slide from feeble recovery back into serious recession, to the realization that Paul Ryan co-sponsored Akin's rape bill.

"I'm proud of my pro-life record.  But Mitt Romney is the top of the ticket and Mitt Romney will be president and he will set the policy of the Romney administration", asserted Paul Ryan, referring to Mitt Romney's more relaxed acceptance of a woman's right to choose abortion rather than carry an unwanted pregnancy.

What this controversy has revealed in stark blazing colours is that the Republican Party's "no exceptions" position on abortion has represented their position since 2000.  It has rarely been openly discussed as it is now being spoken about, previously.  Republicans are just now awakening to the possibility that they may be acutely damaged by this publicly-perceived "war on women".

It is a well-earned fear.

Racial Profiling at the Olympics

"South Korean women have more sensitive hands than any other women in the world.  They do things so well with their hands.  When Korean women cook, it's as if their hands are giving the food more flavour or taste.  Doctors talk about chopstick technology.  Our women archers have excellent feeling with their fingers.  They know whether they shot well or not immediately after the arrow leaves their fingers."  Baek Woong-gi, South Korean national team archery coach

Give credit where it's due. And South Korean women have proven themselves to be gold-medal champions.  Since women's archery was introduced at the 1988 Games in Seoul, South Korean female archers have traipsed lightly all over the competition.   They have now won their seventh consecutive women's team gold medal.

In fact, they have the rare distinction of representing the only country in the world that has competed in the Olympics to come away with the gold.  They have taken possession of 13 of the 14 team and individual archery gold medals contested since 1984.  There is obviously something unique and quite wonderful about this.

Might the ancient world's famed Amazons really have emanated from South Korea, and not from Turkey?  Perhaps not; no one ever wrote of South Korean women living exclusive from men, retaining some men as slaves to aid in reproduction, retaining only female babies on birth, and removing a breast to enable them to draw a bow with more ease.

There must be a reason for such uniquely developed skills, hands and fingers that unerringly match the eye's trajectory for accurate bowmanship.  And it might be held in the fact that unlike other Asian countries, Korean chopsticks are constructed of slender, slippery steel, requiring care and skill to manipulate them successfully.

South Koreans are proud of this distinction their women bring them at the world's elite athletic competition meet.  "I think it is in our blood to be good at shooting arrows.  I don't know, it just feels that to be a Korean is to be a good archer", explained Lee Sung-jin, one of the women's champion team members.


One of her teammates is not quite as sanguine: "It's easier to win an Olympic gold medal than to get on the Korean national archery team, I really feel that", protested Ki Bo-bae, ahead of the Games.

Priceless Relics

Well, there is one born every minute. 

Likely a host of those who would venture to pay handsomely for something truly unique; a discard by a celebrity or by some member of royalty.  Something so mundane, so irrelevant, so impossibly slight it is hardly worth a second thought, yet because there is presumed to be some connection, however transitory, with a celebrated figure, it assumes great potential.

And so it was that British auctioneers Hansons, undertook to put on the bidding heap a scrap of toast purportedly left over from Prince Charles' wedding day breakfast.  Over thirty years old, that bit of toasted bread would be dry and brittle and rather unattractive.  But because of its presumed source, it assumes the proportion of desirability. 

Prop it up in a silver salver, under a glass dome, and a printed explanation.  Yours for the less than princely sum of $365.  Which is what it fetched at auction.  "At the time my daughter was a maid at the palace, and one of her duties was to collect Prince Charles' breakfast tray from outside his room", explained Rosemarie Smith whose daughter had worked for the royal family for 30 years.

"I was with her in the corridor and saw that Prince Charles had left some toast on the tray.  I had been thinking about a keepsake from the wedding and saw the toast and thought to myself: 'Why not?'"  And the bit of toasted bread was maintained by this connoisseur on a shelf in a cup for almost thirty years.  Until she decided to test the auction waters.

"I just wandered into the auctioneers out of curiosity and asked them if it was worth anything.  I was pleasantly surprised to hear them agree with me that it could be of quite some value to royal collectors."  Gambling, doubtless, on the gullibility factor. 

No matter, the woman claimed its provenance to be that of Prince Charles' wedding breakfast and her claim was taken on trust. After all, there is such national pride in the royal family and their service to the country. 

Who wouldn't love to have a bit of dry toast in a premier place in their home proudly displaying their loyalty and love of country? 

For a mere $365 and suspension of intelligence?

In Our Best Interests

A recent Canadian survey came to the conclusion that a majority of Canadians would like the federal government to enact legislation that would compel manufacturers of pre-prepared foods and snack foods to use less fat, salt and sugar in their products, to make them healthier. Which is rather interesting, in that it appears that enough people are aware of the health-adverse effects of consuming foods high in fats, salt and sugar, but they would prefer that government take steps to protect them, rather than themselves take responsibility by refusing these products.

Similarly, data has been produced that concludes that francophones, due to their lifestyle choices, primarily in smoking and drinking, diminish the length of their lives. Anglophone Canadians have been demonstrated to live longer than Francophone Canadians. The French are culturally attuned to 'enjoying life', and this is construed as partying along; smoking and drinking to excess. Quality of life is therefore seen as consuming these harmful products, while in essence doing so shortens life itself.

Can there conceivably be anyone in society who is unaware of the long-term deleterious effects of smoking and drinking? To choose to do so nonetheless bespeaks a fairly cavalier attitude toward life and personal responsibilities. Can and should a government take legal steps to protect people from the harmful effects of excess when people should be considered intelligent and responsible enough to make those choices on their own?

And then there's the issue of young people who also have a tendency to harm themselves by doing things that are clearly inimical to physical well-being. The international community is in agreement that constant exposure to the harmful rays of the sun can result in skin cancers. And it is not only natural exposure during the summer months, but includes as well sun tanning salons. Advertising is geared to the vanity effects of appearing to have a tan unlike anyone else's.

Say, for example, in the winter. To make it seem that one is robustly healthy, glowing with colour. Perhaps they've been on a holiday to the Caribbean, or to Florida or Mexico, lucky them. International health agencies have named tanning beds as carcinogenic to humans. Yet their allure still brings people out to use them; going away with indoor tans, feeling good about themselves.

In Ottawa, there has been a virtual epidemic among young people of melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer. It has presented as the second-most prevalent cancer in Ottawa among young people, accounting for over 10% of all cancers in those aged between 15 to 29. People are not stupid, just stubbornly devoted to appearing attractive, and tans are felt to be becoming in appearance.

There is a growing mood among those who care that it should be illegal for anyone under the age of 18 to be admitted to a tanning salon. The Canadian Cancer Society and the Ontario Medical Association have called for restrictions on tanning booths to those under 18 years of age. Health Canada currently offers voluntary guidelines that tanning salon operators may use should they wish to.

One large tanning salon chain informs its clients that parental consent is required for those under the age of 18 who wish to use their premises. And there are some municipalities in Ontario and British Columbia which restrict tanning bed use to over-18s. Nova Scotia, California, Australia and some European countries, along with Brazil, ban tanning beds altogether.

It's too bad, in a sense, that we haven't the good sense to freely decide for ourselves what is in our best interests.

End-of-Year Curiosities

As ridiculous goes, this story is a fairly good example. Perhaps a little more than ridiculous; pointing out perhaps our ability to discern good nutrition from bad, value from potential harm. Of course it was long ago pointed out that something as essentially innocuous as the popular soft drink Coca-Cola (and its like counterparts) is inimical to health, particularly when used to excess. The high sugar content and the chemicals in the drink prove, over time, to be injurious to human health.

Those who become addicted to the liquid sugar-cola should experiment as many have done, to see that it can be a very effective, quite volatile and harsh cleaning tool. More than that, it's also effective in destroying textiles, for example, through its harsh chemical interaction. It might make a better toilet-bowl cleaner than a harmless, good-tasting alternative to fruit juice or milk, on the other hand, so it does have its conceivable uses.

And then there's the so-popular fast-food choices available at someplace like McDonald's, the franchise first-choice of millions of people that took the consuming public by storm, appealing to the human taste for extreme amounts of internal-human-organ-damaging fats, sugars and salt. A woman living in Windsor Ontario, has kept a McDonald's hamburger, untouched, for a full year on her kitchen counter.

What could be more perishable than a soft bun and a grilled hamburger? Yet this combination of bun and beef has managed to withstand the ravages of time. It appears, visually, unchanged from the time it was placed on Melanie Hesketh's kitchen counter. Whenever her teen-age children agitate for fast food, their mother points to the presence of the hamburger.

Untouched by mould, maggots or fungi, it squats there, awaiting consultation with a chemist, a nutritionist, an economist and a teen. "It makes me wonder why we choose to eat food like this when even bacteria won't eat it", commented Ms. Hesketh, herself a nutritionist at Windsor's Lifetime Wellness Centre.

The casual observer would see that the hamburger looks eminently edible, though the meat patty itself appears to have shrunk as the original moisture content contained within it has evaporated over time, though it "still smells slightly like a burger". McDonald's Restaurants of Canada Ltd. has yet to comment.

And, more or less in the same type of genre - food, that is - there is the Restaurant Les Princesses d'Hochelaga whose special allure to foodists has been catering to people who enjoy having their bacon-and-eggs brought to table by waitresses wearing shoes, a see-through skirt and a smile. In operation for 11 years, the restaurant and the city have been wrangling over the lack of a permit.

Making the restaurant's nearly-nude waitressing service illegal. The restaurant's owner finally succumbed, and the waitresses are now suited out in mini-dresses with small vests, serving clients their bacon and eggs, more modestly dressed. The result was interesting; the waitresses report receiving about 50% less of the tips they were formerly accustomed to receiving.

The Culture of Stupidity

"This is something that is once in a lifetime. When do you ever get to do this? You get to meet a whole bunch of new people and hang out. Drink a lot of coffee, eat a lot of pizza and just have a lot of fun." New IKEA warehouse customer, bubbling over with joy and thanksgiving.

Poor soul. This, arriving a day early, before the grand opening, to camp out overnight trying to keep warm on a cold winter night, among a handful of other delusional hopefuls to be among the first to swarm into the store at its official opening. Her life must be a large vacuum with little in the way of intelligent relief from vacuous sameness if this event represents a social epiphany to her.

Hardcore IKEA fans camp out overnight in anticipation of its grand opening Wednesday, Dec. 7, 2011 in Ottawa. Photograph by: Pat McGrath, The Ottawa Citizen

In the end, she - and those who shared her delirious exultation at this 'once in a lifetime' opportunity to witness the opening of yet another big box store with its dreary merchandise and their infuriatingly witless nomenclature, along with the hugely successful marketing scheme to convince people they need all this drek, and moreover will pay to haul it home and assemble it - needn't have bothered.

As a contrast to the furiously rampaging consumer mobs in Indonesia morbidly anxious to be among the first one thousand to be blessed by the god of consumerism to be allowed to buy a half-price BlackBerry, a mere several hundred Ottawans turned out for the grand opening of a dreary but amazingly popular IKEA warehouse posing as an exciting, quality-goods shopping emporium.

Those who did turn out shared sugar-plum holiday dreams of IKEA management, in recognition of their faithful fealty to the brand, handing out free goods in appreciation. It is amazing how people will doff their good sense for the muted prospect of 'getting something for nothing'. As though their time and their absurd enthusiasm was not worth plenty to the IKEA empire.

"I'm here to have fun and to support IKEA for coming into the community and boosting the economy", said another woman who brought along her five-year-old son whose indoctrination will begin at an early age. But that child is not alone. For here's the excited declaration of another shopper: "I'm definitely a crazy IKEA shopper. I've been coming here since I was eight."

How utterly abysmal. These are the values that people cherish; their devotion to a brand whose enterprising founder was clever enough to realize how readily people take to being manipulated if they think they're getting something inexpensive but lending themselves to the belief that what they purchase is of greater value than the hard cash they're parting with to own it.

And too stupid to realize that they're being indoctrinated into a quasi-consumer religion. And that, in the process, they're allowing themselves willingly, eagerly, to be herded like sheep into a vast strand of corridors that will take them on a 1.3-kilometre hiking expedition from the front door to the checkout area. There is no straight-and-narrow short-cut from a selected product to the cash.

All those who enter must submit to the ritual of being firmly guided throughout the entire warehouse, the size of 7 football fields, on three levels, before they are permitted to escape its confines. Difficult to believe that people are so dazzlingly biddable.

Suspected of Guilt

Indonesia is the most populous Muslim country in the world. One of the values of Islam is that piety trumps everything, certainly of absolute value, not to be compared with the mindless consuming of goods. There is no reason to suppose - since we like to believe that all of humankind is born equal and presumably equally endowed with brains, although free will is somewhat stunted in Islamic societies - that Indonesians are any less capable of making informed choices than any other society.

Yes, we understand that because there is a certain amount of behaviour-herding-and-channelling in Islam, that crowds tend to become rather hysterical when they are encouraged to believe that some source - generally un-Islamic, like the infidel West - has blundered horribly by being critical of Islam, its Prophet, or that rumours circulate that some idiot threatens to burn the Holy Koran, it invariably results in a rampage of frightening proportions and intent, all screaming "death to the infidels!".

But come now ... the prospect of obtaining an advanced technological gadget for half-price convincing Indonesians that they must gather in huge numbers to be among the first one-thousand customers to acquire a $540-valued cellphone for $270, being so compelling that they rampage in an inchoate rage when they suspect that something may have gone awry to their expectations?

When Research in Motion's public relations arm in Indonesia had the brilliant idea of concentrating the minds of their valued customers in Jakarta by advertising half-price BlackBerry 9790 models at a shopping centre in that city, they must have felt that this was a truly intelligent marketing gambit geared to increasing their loyal customer base. Which, evidently already has cult status there.

It appears that over 5000 people gathered restively outside the Pacific Place mall in the early hours of November 25. And since the prospect was for only one thousand fortunate souls to be able to take advantage of the half-price sale, obviously there would be four times that number sick to their hearts with disappointment. As the day began to dawn and heat built up, some nerves must have snapped.

Rumours began to spread that all those coveted thousand cellphones had already been distributed. The enraged crowd flung themselves against the barricades, swarmed mindlessly, resentfully, furiously through the shopping centre, in the process crushing over twenty people. Pointing an official finger of blame at the country director for RIM in Indonesia, authorities have named him a suspect in a crime scene.

That crime scene, of course, was the promotion that made thousands of Indonesian hopefuls go utterly berserk, leading to the deaths of twenty people. Not only he, but a number of others, including the mall's own head of security named as 'suspects' in what will ultimately be characterized as a crime earning criminal charges of "negligence causing other people to suffer injuries."

In Indonesia this crime is punishable by a maximum of five years in prison. "At this stage they are banned from leaving the country, as per the legal process in Indonesia", explained the South Jakarta police chief of detectives. "They have not been detained, but have to report to police regularly."

Sigh, is it worth the trouble to attempt to expand a market in a country where RIM was forced to introduce blocks in a futile effort to prevent their cellphones being used to download pornography?

Enough, Please!

It is never pleasant when anyone loses their life. All the more so when that loss of life occurs unexpectedly and as the result of a seemingly insignificant event. But such things do happen. We read small items in the newspaper from time to time of young people, around the age of 20 with previously undiagnosed heart problems suddenly collapsing with a fatal heart attack. We can be vigilant to a certain degree, but we cannot interrupt all of our activities to weigh the balance of safety before proceeding to live our lives.

It is a tragedy for any family to lose someone whom they love. All the more so when there are young children left without a parent as a result of that loss. But it is irksome beyond belief to have to read countless stories relating over and over again how very special a particular loss is because it is a celebrity who has lost life. As, for example, the death of British actress Natasha Richardson. This was a truly untoward event, one that resulted in a personal calamity.

She was taking skiing lessons, and was on an moderate beginner hill, along with an instructor. She experienced what appeared to be a negligible fall. One from which she was immediately able, on her own steam, to recover from, raising herself, and laughing off the incident. When she was approached by a first-aid response team on the spot she waved them off, despite their warning that something amiss might have occurred without her knowledge.

Within an hour she was in marked physical distress and was taken to a medical centre; from there to a full hospital setting where she fell into an irreversible coma from which she would never be resuscitated. Her family flocked to her bedside, as families are wont to do, where everyone in shock, disbelief and grief, comforted one another. This is what families do, in extremis. And such disastrously untoward events do occur randomly from time to time.

So the appearance of one solemn testimony after another, lamenting the passing of a talented actor from a distinguished acting family afflicts the reading public each and every day; multiple items with their excruciatingly irritating little details about the woman's beauty and talent and skills. Why must we be assaulted in this manner? She was in the business of entertainment, and as such represented a middling talent.

There was nothing to distinguish her as a particularly outstanding public figure, an individual of great public merit, someone who made her mark other than through her family's proclivity for thespian display. She did that which pleased herself. She earned her living entertaining others. Her death was a tragedy for her family.

A simple obituary would suffice, thank you very much. Once, and once only.

Indiscrimate Death Dealing

War represents the incapability of nations to compromise, to make the effort to understand underlying causes and suspicions between themselves. A human failing that is not about to be solved anytime soon. Nations that value the strengths of their military apparatus spend inordinately massive amounts of public funds on armaments, on training their military. They convince those whom they represent from their seats of government that arms are a requirement for defense.

One understands that countries going to war construct armies of young men and women to battle one another for honour and country and principle and protection of the integrity of a country's boundaries, and even on occasion, marching them out for the purpose of protecting the people of countries with whom they go to war. It is not, however, only the members of the military who find early death in the prosecution of war. Civilian casualties are always high, and often little discussed.

Modern warfare is as cruel as hand-to-hand combat when soldiers face an enemy and realize that each is trained to see the other as lesser, undeserving of life, and if the other is not dispatched, then they will themselves be bereft of life. It is a humanely alienating process to perceive the 'other' as deserving of death. We understand that. While deploring it. With the understanding that there are times when that most brutally inhumane of human practises really does become unavoidable.

What should be avoidable, however, is the death visited on civilian populations, by default. There are few countries that would boast the death numbers of innocent civilians. Yet the most cultured, advanced, civil societies on earth develop and construct lethal devices which they strew over an invaded countryside and which, when detonated, take innumerable innocent lives, leaving countless other victims horribly injured, thousands of children among them.

Cluster bombs represent a type of weaponry whereby tiny bomblets are detonated. A cluster bomb can contain up to 600 bomblets, incapable of distinguishing the fighting enemy from an innocent child. Children, in fact, see them lying about innocently, unexploded, on the ground, pick them up, construing them as intriguing objects like toys, and become instant victims. Or they take them along and share them as playthings with other children, until their lethality is released and all die. Or they bring them home to proudly demonstrate their new free toy to their parents, bringing tragedy home.

A country's farm fields and general countryside can be littered with thousands of these lethal weapons, most of which do not detonate on impact, but lie there awaiting detection and activation; for someone to step on one, or pick one up from a spirit of curiosity, all too soon assuaged. Britain is working overtime to destroy its stock of 30 million bombs. France, Germany and Norway have begun destroying their stocks. The United States, Russia and China, all manufacturers of such bombs refuse to, though they're by no means the only countries to maintain their use.

In Oslo, over one hundred countries have signed on to a global ban on cluster munitions. The Oslo Treaty has been modelled on the Canada-led Ottawa Treaty to ban landmines, signed eleven years ago. The new treaty will become international law once 30 countries have ratified, a legal process requiring countries to pass their own legislation. That milestone is expected to occur early in 2009. And none too soon.

The destructive capacity of humankind's inventiveness is beyond reason.

Distinctly Mad

For want of a better descriptive. We are, as a society, so utterly concerned for the well-being of individuals whom we incarcerate in penal institutions as punishment for the universal societal unwillingness to harbour in our midst and permit to roam the civil landscape, those who take the lives of others that we enact legislation to ensure that their human rights are never abrogated, though they've taken human lives.

Justice done is one thing, bending over backwards to prove how sensitive we are to the tender needs of murderers is quite another. The latest bit of utter, contemptible nonsense comes out of a prison in Ontario where a killer was awarded six thousand dollars in damages from Correctional Services of Canada.

This man, during the course of a six-day rampage, managed to kill a police officer in Minnesota, and three other people in Manitoba, Ontario and Quebec. The man managed to get around. He's been in prison for the past thirty years, having served a life sentence in the United States, then being extradited to Canada to pay for his crimes here.

He's an American citizen, now 50, serving life sentences after pleading guilt to one count of second-degree murder and two of manslaughter in Canada. He's been incarcerated in several different Canadian prisons, the latest being medium-security Fenbrook Institution near Gravenhurst, Ontario.

He's a hefty brute at 260 pounds and likes to take care of himself, working out at least an hour a day, with a physical fitness protocol. He has very large feet, wearing size 13EEEE, and insists on Corrections Canada providing New Balance shoes for him, annually, which was done routinely while he was held at Collins Bay Institution.

At Fenbrook he was informed b a senior procurement official that "My budget does not allow me to purchase New Balance, and if you want New Balance you can purchase [them] yourself", offering instead Brooks shoes, which appeared to be inadequate for the width of his feet, so he refused to accept them.

In his claim against Corrections Canada he insisted that the worn New Balance shoes caused him to suffer a knee injury while working out. An injury from which he continues to suffer pain. How's that for perspective; he murdered four people, they can no longer feel anything. Their families feel the pain of loss. He sought $50,000 in damages, but was granted instead $6,000, along with legal costs.

"The evidence shows that the Defendant [Corrections Canada] dragged its feet in ordering the correct shoes for [Gregory] McMaster and improperly tried to convince him to accept the ill-fitting shoes. The Directive requires that the Plaintiff be issued new shoes on an annual basis", ordered the Prothonotary of the Federal Court.

It's utterly asinine that society is invested in holding such unrepentant malefactors in places of criminal asylum to ensure that they pay their just due to society for having so unforgivably taken the lives of other human beings. And then adding insult to injury by being forced to take the criminal's health and comfort into account.

Nineteenth-century penal colonies such as Australia no longer exist in our shrinking world, and more's the pity. Should we ever colonize the moon, it mightn't be a bad idea to send pathological destroyers of other humans there to fend for themselves.

Leaving No Opportunity Unturned

There they go, Michael Ignatieff and Maurizio Bevilacqua, high-ranking members of the Liberal Party of Canada, one of whom is still a leadership aspirant, the other highly representative of the country's immigrant community - as who isn't, in fact? - touting the responsible initiatives on behalf of immigrants their party is prepared to take, when they once again assume power.

And listen, it could happen fairly quickly, if all those close to their date of migration to the country and needful of support in migrating family members take their message seriously enough to vote Liberal. Which is, needless to say, the reason for their prompting, for their sincere promises.

Promises are always sincere at the time they're proffered; they have a way of dissipating in importance and imminence of transaction once the need for their offering has been mitigated. Election promises have a peculiar way of vanishing into the ether of unfulfilled dreams, once the election goal has been achieved.

This brace of MPs, electioneering for their party and their leader, extend to the voting public the knowledge they have that the current government has taken an anti-immigration course of action in giving new discretionary decision-making powers to the minister of immigration. Whereby he may reject "whole categories" of applications.

Which is to say, as in the highly successful Australian model, opt for majority immigrants suitable for integration into the mainstream, those endowed with a working knowledge of the language, and a good level of education ready to hit the employment circuit running.

Which would not, needless to say, close the door on other types of immigrant potential, but would close in on the type of immigrant candidates that would be most likely to fulfill the needs of the Canadian economy, and fit in most comfortably with Canadian society, sharing like cultural values. Leaving space for refugee claimants and family re-unification cases.

There is much to be said for screening applicants, since Canada has experienced in some part, the pain involved in accepting migrants whose histories are clouded, those involved in criminal or terrorist activities. Migrants from justice in their countries of origin.

Individuals whose ideologies run against the grain of Canadian norms. We have, often enough, unfortunately and unknowingly, admitted former military or political principals of administrations that have violated their populations.

We have brought into Canada individuals later identified as having taken part in the atrocities; from Germany, from Rwanda, from India, who have denied on their applications that they have a criminal past and who have later been brought to justice. Or who have taken great pains to produce terrorist activities from Canada, resulting in dreadful consequences to those whom they have targeted.

Yes, the country could use a workable strategy to make use of the skills and talents of all of its new citizens who have been trained in various professions in their home countries and who wish to continue in their trades or practises or professions here, once they qualify to Canadian standards.

But the fact is the Liberal Party has held the governing seat for a very long time and they have done nothing to ameliorate an admitted problem in that kind of integration.

They bemoan the fact that they claim has led to the current government admitting fewer immigrants to the country than formerly. While the fact is that there exists an enormous backlog of applications which does not appear to be moving expeditiously. A situation that the current government seeks to address in its alterations to the Immigration and Refugee Act.

The Conservative prime minister has taken steps to remove the hefty fees for immigration that the previous Liberal government imposed. But the writers of the Liberal party promises have put forward their plan to substantially increase funding for enhanced language training, and job-assistance programs matching applicants' qualifications.

Easier said than done, since industry and the professions have their standards that must be met and this is not a government issue. They promise that a Dion Liberal government will assist new Canadians in obtaining certification from various professional groups, and that's really good, but what's taken so long?

The Liberals have been in power an awfully long time, and nothing had been done to ameliorate the obvious shortage in Canada of some professions like medicine. They state that a Liberal government will commit to fairness, accountability and opportunity.

Most Canadians can distinctly recall a time in recent history when fairness, accountability and opportunity meant little, other than that the governing party pork barrelled their corporate sponsors and business friends, along with their political supporters and insiders.

With accountability absent, and opportunity given to the corruption of legitimate government ventures. It's tedious and dispiriting reading all those fulsome promises in the knowledge that once ensconced in the seat of power, nothing of true relevance ever comes to fruition.

Particularly through the auspices of a party so long accustomed to governing that it felt no need to exert itself to do due justice to the privileges and opportunities given them by a trusting public.

Invasion, Occupation

Admittedly, in the remotest sense possible. We did, after all, invite them to disturb the serenity of our late-summer days. The roof of our house needed replacing. They arrived at the unseemly hour of 7:30 a.m., arousing us from a restful sleep, after a late night. My husband was delighted to see them, I somewhat less so.

It's a male thing, after all, these kinds of physical endeavours. In this instance, a rather necessary enterprise.

The roof was not in dreadful shape, but it was time, after 17 years, to have it replaced. The shingles were not the best, being "original equipment"; builders tend to use the basic necessities in installing roofs atop newly-constructed houses, after all. And those we selected are a different breed altogether, with a 25-year warranty, and made not of traditional shingling material.

Aren't we the optimists, at 71-approaching-72 years of age? Still, it's something that had to be done, and we wanted something more than 15-years-serviceable, something that had a presence; the appearance of wood shingling. So there they were, the crew. Five men in total; young, athletic, fit, tanned. And ready to go. And go they most certainly did.

We're fortunate in that the day and succeeding days were forecast for clear skies; no rain in the forecast. Good for the roofers too. Except for the heat and humidity, with highs in the 30-degree celsius range, scant breeze. But they are a cheerful lot and hauled those shingling bundles as though they weighed nothing; sending them up the motorized ladder effortlessly.

From the house interior it sounded and felt like an alien invasion. The men treading around the roof, loosening the old shingles, pounding down the wrapped bunches of replacement shingles. Cutting out the old mushroom-shaped air intakes to be replaced by four-stage revolving ones to ensure sound ventilation. We could see the fleeting images of their shadows cast by the morning sun on the side of the house next door.

After having rid the roof of its former covering they proceeded. And in the process creating a far-distant thunder sound that we were certain would disturb our little dogs, but unaccountably, did not. Concerned about the effects of the heat my husband put out a patio umbrella over the wrought iron table and armchairs in the front patio. But the men, when they took their breaks, preferred to sit on the stone bench opposite the low stone garden wall; there too they sat.

And drank water from the hose, disdaining the fruit coolers and fruit juice that he had put out for them, in a plastic cooler chest with freezer inserts. When we were ready for our ravine walk, he informed them we'd be gone for an hour, and if anyone had to use the powder room, now was the time. As we exited the garage, one of the men hastened to remove a box to give us more egress room.

Noticing a brilliant yellow caterpillar inching its way on the garage floor, my husband gently picked it up, cradled it in his hand. Stopping to pass a few words with the roofers, carrying Riley until we got to the ravine entrance, he opened his hand to display the caterpillar curled comfortably in his palm. The muscular, tanned men shrank back in disgust.

"Is it safe?" one asked, and my husband laughed. For the creature's safety, it was being taken to the ravine, to be released there. Then we ventured out for our morning walk, leaving the banging, thudding, sharp reports behind for an hour.

Timeless Embrace

Haven't we evolved from brutish human-like creatures descended from the flotsam that rose out of the roiling seas to become what we now are. Presumably we are still evolving. Certainly Nature cannot see satisfaction in our current state of awareness. Our emotions are not yet sufficiently matured, for one thing. Our life-span is likely enough of a patience-ebbing irritation to her; witnessing our inability to live together in harmony.

Not with the other creatures with which she has inhabited this Earth of ours, nor with one another. Surely her patience with us owes largely to her ownership of time and space and history. Our time and space and history to be certain. We have no idea how far her realm reaches, whether Nature is herself responsible on a far larger scale for the forms that revolve as they evolve in the very heavens above.

It was, to be sure, kind of her - although to attribute anthropoid-like actions and human emotions to a force beyond our understanding, responsible for our having gradually appeared on the world stage, let alone our inability to comprehend the unflinching balance of nature, and her exquisite indifference to any of the life-forms she has created - to allow humankind the ability to think, to envision, to create and to forge our own environment within hers.

She's doubtless complacent witnessing in her own way our advances and our dreadful errors along the way to becoming what we now are. Highly faulted creatures of unbearable aggravation toward one another, incapable of living in peace, as she initially mandated. But then, perhaps from boredom, perhaps impelled by her own mischievous fascination with possibilities, all her creatures have reacted on their environment, the strong devouring the weak.

All of us, from the minuscule, uncomplicated amoeba, to the complex Great Apes of which humankind is one, were instilled with our most critical visceral instinct; survival. One of whose instruments is to secure a mate, ensure ownership of territory sufficient unto quotidian-survival needs. The second is the genetic instilling of parental protective emotions toward one's offspring.

This is a primary emotion which remains as intact as when it was first imprinted on living organisms, those that were meant to support the needs of frail young. What greater confirmation do we need than the Stone-age remains discovered in the Sahara Desert by American paleontologists. A highly meaningful, acutely telling trio of human skeleton remains, buried for discovery, five thousand years later.

One skeleton, that of a small woman. She faces the skeletal remains of two young children. Her bony arms stretched toward those of her young, as though to encircle, comfort and protect them through time immemorial.

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

We are truly graced. We are truly advantaged. We know it and we're immensely grateful for that. That our loved ones are able to live well and with some satisfaction in their lives. That they have evolved into reasonable, intelligent and compassionate people. With sound values and priorities.

What more could a couple, married for 53 years, wish for life? We've good health, a comfortable life, and enjoyment in all of that.

Moreover, it's spring! Our gardens are hastening their blooming process; everything is colourful, alive, resurgently beautiful. The weather is delightful, and we appreciate everything that we have achieved together. Our two little companion dogs were barbered in our backyard yesterday and subsequently shampooed.

When there is a need outside our own within our broad community - and beyond - we do out utmost to offer what we can to help. Which leads me once again to the ugly need to agree to venture outside our front door, canvass kit in hand, going house to house for one charitable enterprise after another.

It's truly a downer, knocking on someone's door, or ringing their doorbell, presenting a bright and shining face, introducing the charity you happen to be representing at that particular time and cheerily asking if your neighbour would be interested in donating...? Some do, generously and with a kind heart. They will also, some minority of them, thank you for coming by.

Others will retain you, for conversations that seem to last forever, while you're anxious to get out there and get on with it - there's a lot of doors to knock at. Of course, you know most of those doors, and the people behind them. Little wonder, since you've been canvassing for so many charities for so many years, on this very same street. Other streets where you've been domiciled elsewhere, before this one.

But despite having done this for decades, it's still a cringe-inducing pursuit. Many people simply don't take kindly to anyone appearing at their door to encourage them to give up money. As a result there's a broad 40% - 50% refusal rate. Those among any population who simply will not support charitable enterprise that supports and benefits their community. Even when they themselves have had obvious needs of some of those services.

Some refuse with insouciance, some with truly ill grace, some regretfully, some with nasty artifice, playing little games of come back another day please, and you do, and they don't. It's disappointing when there are people you genuinely like, interact with on occasion, have good relations with, yet they cannot see their way clear to releasing a few disposable dollars in support of charity.

All the more so when you're very well aware of their superior economic condition. Their response is confounding. Very much unlike the gracious generosity of others for whom spontaneous giving becomes a valued way of life; those people you wouldn't mind hugging for their humanity.

I Am Interesting and Musical - I Am A Vulnerable Child

They're a fairly new family on the street. Three years' new. What is called in the new family parlance a "blended family". The second marriages for both adults. He, although very young in appearance and certainly physically fit, is the father of three semi-adult children, a teen-age girl and two young men of university age. She, one of those people whose age could confuse even the guess-gifted, a mother of four; a 14-year-old boy, and three girls, ages 10, 8 and 6. Lovely children all, reflective of their parents.

They moved from Nova Scotia. Their extended family is left behind, in the Halifax area. The children, no doubt, miss their grandparents, their aunts and uncles. They also miss their father. He's a Colombian by birth. Their mother, a native Nova Scotian, is involved in the work of international benevolence; she is employed by an NGO, doing work in Latin America, where she likely met her husband and sponsored him for emigration to Canada. Four years ago they parted. He still lives in Halifax.

While they were still living in that city, before and after she met her new husband, the children's father was completely estranged, by choice. The children are obvious physical specimens of mixed heritage, tawny-dark complected, black curly hair, not-quite Caucasian features. Exquisitely beautiful children. But more than that, good mannered, cheerful, friendly and sweet-tempered. They move together, the little girls, as a tight little flock. And there is loving competition among them.

The children, including the brother, attempted, while living in the same city as their father who left the family home, to contact him repeatedly. There was never a response to their pleading appeals to him. They love their father, and they miss him. They appear very well adjusted on the surface, and there is no reason not to question the surface. Their step-father is obviously and sincerely engaged in raising them, along with their mother.

When the mother is away, as she often is for her job - for three-week periods some four times a year in Bolivia, Columbia, or Chile - the children pine for her, but are well looked after in every conceivable parental way by their stepfather. The mother has her children attend regular language classes in Spanish; she insists they know something of their complete heritage. They take piano lessons, and engage in extracurricular group sports.

Here is a poem that the mother of these extraordinary children gave me, written by one of her daughters, the eldest of the trio:

I am interesting and musical
I wonder if my dad still thinks about me
I hear a tree crying when it is being cut down
I see a baby bird trying to fly
I want to hug my dog Brooke one more time
I am interesting and musical

I pretend that everything is OK when it is not
I felt my sister's pain when she got a concussion
I touch my mom's head when I am scared
I worry that it's my fault when my mom cries
I cry when I get home and no one is there
I am interesting and musical

I understand why my mom and dad got divorced
I say you should always believe in yourself
I hope people stop abusing pets
I try to come home in time so my mom doesn't worry
I hope I will reach my goal
I am interesting and musical

Made In Mainland China

Say what you will about goods and merchandise manufactured in China. When the manufacturer has high enough standards the resulting product is sturdy, robust, well made in accordance with its design specifications. I have, sitting before me, a bright little object that is responsible for many hours of entertainment. It's a little fount of pleasure, used on occasion to brighten a few moments when one has an urge to while away a few idle bits of time.

Its name is Q20. Translated as '20 questions'. That's the number of questions this intelligent little device will sling at you before drawing an informed conclusion, and guessing exactly what you had in mind when tasking it with guessing what you had chosen for it to draw on its artificial intelligence resources to respond to. Each of your responses, urged by the succeeding questions lobbed by the Q20, helps it to draw its correct conclusion.

And invariably, the answer concluding the little ritual of challenge-and-response, does turn out to be amazingly correct. If, on the rare occasion, this little gem offers a wrong answer, it will attempt again to ponder, asking another five questions to re-orient its thinking cap and proffer another response - invariably correct. It's a wondrous little toy, Canadian-invented, honed further by allowing Internet-practise-use at its web site, before the toy was ready for market.

The initial production run was a success, and yet a failure. The reason being that the little Q20 was so accurate, there were no wrong answers, causing its users some disgruntlement. The inventors had to resort to dumbing it down a bit, so users might occasionally have the triumph of receiving a wrong response. Even so, the cocky little thing would dare you to have another go.

When, after you've responded to the correct answer that yes, it was right, it virtually leaps with joy, poking fun at you, trilling, "was that the best you could do?" in challenging its intelligence. Throughout the 20-question course before arriving at the solution, it will fling little taunts across its slender screen: "think you're so smart, don't you?".

Even occasionally, admitting "You win!", only to immediately retort "Just Kidding!" and cheekily dance the letters up and down in a working parody of a child in glee. When you initiate the process, you're first asked the category: animal, vegetable, mineral or other. After that first selection, the game is set to go and a series of rapid-fire but thoughtful questions ensue. With a slight pause between each response, as though your little pet-mind is carefully weighing the import of the answer.

Your answers to these keen series of questions fall into the categories of "no", "yes", "unknown" or "sometimes". Even when, on occasion, you might let an inaccurate response slip by in your haste to answer, clever little Q20 will come up with the correct answer. It is deliberately confounding, mischievous, clever, challenging, a treat for anyone's restless mind; an almost-companion.

I've had this little piece of entertainment for a few years. We originally bought one for our granddaughter, to help entertain her, just incidentally improve her reading speed, and increase her knowledge base. She's been through several of them by now, after about four years of use. And I have my own, that she can use when she visits. I hadn't used mine for over a year, but this afternoon picked it up and gave it a bit of a run.

I'd been reading the newspapers, and selected a few random words out of various news items. Most of the topics I'd selected in the past fell under the categories of "animal" or "vegetable". I had a series of four objects this time that all fell under "mineral". And, one after the other, my witty little Q20 guessed them all with stunning accuracy: "hand grenade", "tank", helicopter", and "shovel".

It's encased in a thick, slick plastic exterior, in bright colours of either red or purple. It's the size of a flattened baseball, round but not deep. Fitting comfortably into your palm, resting on the hell of your hand. The sound can be controlled - it beeps and hums along in short little bursts of tonal activity - and its response rate can be accelerated or decelerated. Little buttons of response-to-queries are set in a row just below the text screen.

It demands respect for its resourceful management of intelligence, its ability to sort data and synthesize toward an awesomely accurate conclusion. This is a thinking toy, an impudent little source of fun.

Developed in Canada. Manufactured in China. Priced relatively modestly at roughly $25(Cdn)

The Saving Grace of Snow

This has been a winter, in this region, to embark us steadily upon a snowy path to breaking all previous years' record volumes of snowfalls. From November on through to March - and likely into April as well, snow events have been constant, unrelenting. Three out of every four days have covered us with some vestiges of snow, from light flurries to redundantly-fulsome snow dumps. Streets have been narrowed as never quite before, with piled-up snowbanks.

Where lawns and gardens once were, reside huge billowy snow comforters under which our spring bulbs and hardy perennials patiently wait their time of awakening. The refulgent beauty of a fresh snowfall is always fresh, as though our minds and memories are incapable of capturing our wonder at witnessing that vast, blank whiteness, and each year's witness amazes us anew. Children leap with joy into freshly piled snowbanks.

Skiers, snowshoers, tobogganers, all chafe for the opportunity to slide down snow's contours, embankments and steep descents. It's rather less celebrated by those whose childhood has been left far behind, and those for whom daily commutes to a workplace become complicated by dire road conditions left in the wake of these many snowstorms, replete with ice pellets and freezing rain conditions.

But thank heavens for the generous helping of snow we have received this year. It has saved lives. In Montreal, a single mother of seven young children awoke during the night - night before last - to the realization that her home was on fire. All but one of the children were on the second floor with her, sleeping. A four-year-old child slept on the first floor, and that child made her own way out of the home, with serious burns.

The mother managed, with the strength of a mother's desperation to save the lives of her children, to drop all of the other six children, aged ten and under, out of a second-story bedroom window, onto the snow below. They wore only underwear, but were unharmed, and noise-alerted neighbours scooped them up and brought them inside, before firefighters arrived.

The mother, suffering from burns, as well as her four-year-old child, are being treated in hospital. But the age ten-to-two siblings, three boys, four girls, will live to see their futures. And their fiercely determined mother, who herself refused to jump until she was assured that all her children were accounted for, will live to watch over them as they grow into their futures.