Ode to Central Heating; A Wordsworth Ode to Immortality; Remembrance Day Remembered Through the Medium of Instagram; Our Prophet Tells Us How to Spread Peace; In Flanders Fields; Photograph of an Alexis Omelet; a Poppy; and a Glider Plane Package

It is probably a misuse of the term but what is an ode? Turning to Wikipedia tells us more than we would ever want to know but this from the first paragraph. An ode (from Ancient Greek: ᾠδή, romanized: ōdḗ) is a type of lyrical stanza. It is an elaborately structured poem praising or glorifying an event or individual, describing nature intellectually as well as emotionally. A classic ode is structured in three major parts: the strophe, the antistrophe, and the epode. Different forms such as the homostrophic ode and the irregular ode also enter.”
Many words in between, but Wikipedia does arrive at the use of the English ode, an example by Wordsworth is provided.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream.
The earth, an every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream \It is not now as it hath been of yore;-
Turn wheresoever I may
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more….
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star
Hath else where its setting
And cometh from afar.
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory we do come
From God, who is our home…

It did seem rather strange to be copying Wordsworth’s words until I realized that they speak so eloquently to this day – Remembrance Day, November 11.

It is now eerily 11/11 at 11 as I write. Eerily means in a in a strange and frightening manner. No idea of time, nor all the time consuming troubles that would be encountered trying to copy and paste. But there I was typing Wordsworth’s words about Immortality at this hour, of this day of this month.

I think I heard in the background, cannons being fired. It is rather likely as my abode is on the outskirts of the Alberta Legislative Building. I did not join the ceremony for two reasons: 1) It was cold (minus eleven degrees) and moreover, I am remembering very well on my own in the heat of my apartment, with the help of Instagram.

I responded to two posts by two people of my acquaintance. One woman from Wales who calls herself illysmells accompanied a photo saying: Lest We Forget with the following caption: Lest we Forget. On the 11th day, of the 11th month at the 11th hour, we remember. I responded:
Me: I shall!! My uncle Allan Pirie serving in the RAF was shot down on the day of my birth, May 29, 1943. I will always remember him, but of course, did not meet him. Perhaps in Jannah.

Another post from a man who calls himself degenerate_planet. He began his Post thusly:
He: Always good to take a moment, or even da day, to select on the horror, tragedy, and inevitableness of war.  And since I aim to never take part in one (fingers crossed), the only way to feel some way about it is to read books or watch fills. Here’s ten of the best.
He listed ten and then concluded:
He: None of these films glorify war, and for the older directors I think probably cathartic and a clean condemnation of mans inhumanity to man…
I responded:
Me: Thank you for this ‘gift’. I have seen or read some of these and must watch the others. I too did not go to war but my life, although now privileged, was drastically effected by WWII. My mother’s only brother, serving in the RAF was shot down over Germany the day I was born. My mother always felt grief, never really recovered. My father was sent to kill Germans in Holland when he was only 21. It maimed him, he unfortunately took it out on me horrible abuse inflicted  from ages 6-17 (when I left home). I have recovered from these cars – but not them, none of them including my brothers. One does not have to tell me to remember. I wish I could forget – not Allan Pirie but the rest.

So that what my morning, which began at 5:40, my iPhone chimed telling me it was time for Fajr prayer. Snuggled back in my warm bed but then made my homemade flat white and an incredible omelet which shall be pictured. Looked at Instagram posts and comments to my comments on other’s posts. Then began the blog: Ode to Central Heating and this is where it went, so far.  A year ago, when learning of my move to Abu Dhabi, people would say:
They: It is hot there!!
Me: I know! But they have air conditioning.
Then, upon learning of my return to Canada, people would say:
They: It is cold there.
Me: I know! But have you ever heard of central heating? They have it there.

Back to peace on earth contained on Instagram, the comments made to the scholar who released the reel. Shall end with a poem, with some personal history of my days in Guelph, Ontario, Canada.

This is a reel which it is reported that Our Prophet said to Spread Peace, saying that we should love one another first.

Here is the link: https://www.instagram.com/reel/Ckyhc29DQXL/?igshid=MDJmNzVkMjY=

This was my response:
Me: Again so beautifully eloquently and simply said. If only this would happen throughout the world. Some people are totally unlovable but most are worthy and deserving of love.
He: ❤️

During my school days of long ago, our teachers instructed us to memorize poems. One I shall never forget is this inspiring poem: In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
    That mark our place; and in the sky
    The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
    Loved and were loved, and now we lie
        In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
Of ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

A former friend lived in Guelph and I would often visit he and his wife. I discovered, and went to the museum which honored the poet John McCrae. He, a Canadian doctor and teacher,  served in WWI. A fascinating life, a fascinating story there in Guelph. I also learned, incidentally, that Guelph is known for many things – the jock strap was invented there.

On that note I shall end this blog. A photograph of the Alexis omelet, sour cream, cheese sauce and salsa. A photo of my commemorative poppy and, in honour of my Uncle Allan Pirie, a photograph of the package of a flying glider. There are missing parts so it could not be assembled. It came from my new dentist, Groat Rd. Dentistry. It is usually only given to kids, but I insisted that I be given one too as I had been a good girl. It just goes to prove that being a good girl does not always turn out the way you planned.  Hahaha.

If you have nothing better to do Google When Life Does Not Go the Way You Planned – there are hundreds of articles to help you.  As for me, a man just emailed me and wants to see me.
I must therefore send this blog off.

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