still shivering

April, said ol' T. S., is the cruellest month, but May is starting out pretty cruel too. There are hints of warmth, then back to bitter chill and grey. As I've said before, I don't ever remember a spring this cold and dark. Obviously, it's Stephen Harper's fault.

But there's a big fat robin on my fence nearby as I write, his feathers ruffling in the wind. Today at the Y, a woman was singing beautifully in the shower, and on the way home, when I rode through Allan Gardens, the trees were covered with feathery green, delicate, just beginning to burst. There is much to be thankful for, despite the election. Today one of the Sri Lankan women who works at Doubletake, with whom I've been discussing politics, told me that many of her friends were going to vote NDP or Liberal but switched at the last minute. So Harper's scare tactics worked. He's a fine tactician. And that's about the only nice thing I can think of, right now.

But I am thinking, still, of Buck Brannaman and his beautiful and inspiring tale. I hope this documentary is released commercially or plays on TV, so you all have a chance to see the story of how, with luck and fortitude, the human soul survives horror and goes on to make the world a better, kinder place. We could all use more stories like that.

P.S. David Letterman: "The good news is, at least Osama bin Laden got to watch the royal wedding."