off to Ottawa

Yesterday evening, cried twice listening to CBC radio - one, a report from Montreal on the 25th anniversary of the murder of 14 young women, whose names were slowly read out, one by one - unbearably sad, especially given the hatred against women being played out daily in accusations in the media.

And then an Ideas program on Martin Luther King - a beautiful portrayal of an extraordinary man, who knew he was going to be killed for his beliefs. All that, on my beloved CBC radio. Also reports on the one year anniversary of the death of Mandela and the usual dreadful news from around the world. Otherwise, HUNKY DORY.

Also, a documentary on Doc Pomus, a huge talent who wrote a thousand pop songs, many of them the Brill Building's greatest hits, including Up on the Roof, Teenager in Love, Sweets for my sweet, This magic moment, Little sister, Suspicion, Vive Las Vegas, and Save the last dance for me. Especially moving when you learn that he was, as he described himself, a "fat Jewish cripple," afflicted with polio in childhood, who wrote "the last dance" for his wife because at their wedding, he could not dance with her. And then he wrote "Can't get used to losing you," Andy Williams's greatest hit, after she left. An autobiography in song.

I'm off in a few minutes to Union Station. Today Anna, Eli and I are getting the train to Ottawa, to visit Auntie Do, who - as I report periodically - at 94 is still not only living in her condo and driving, but winning against her much younger friends at Scrabble. I have packed enough toys and food for a small army, because it's five hours in a train with a wriggler. Easier for Eli than driving, I hope - at least he can move. And move and move.

I hope we make it. I have a cold, not too bad but there. Anna has been feeling terrible this last while, and Eli puked yesterday morning. Today she says he sounds terrible but seems fine. So we're going to go, if necessary to greet Auntie Do and give her her Christmas goodies - all kinds of English treats, mince pies, Jaffa cakes, Eccles cakes and fruit jellies - through surgical masks. But we're going.

Carol will hold down the fort, if you happen to be passing by and urgently need to buy a book or four.