Late Friday* afternoon – Tuc el nuit Drive Oliver ( Cherry Grove Estates )
No injuries – no flames visible
Damage in the unit kitchen
Firefighters on the roof checking blaze travel
OVFD crews took about 30 minutes to assess ‘All Clear’
Today Is America’s Birthday and what a celebration it is.
2020 is a carnival of disaster at first glance but there are patches of sunshine almost unnoticed.
First there is a pandemic poorly handled and presided over by a role playing mad king who doesn’t even recognize the huge tsunami of death heading straight for him. All those in the whale tower on the good ship chaos see no waves either. His re-election campaign is in disarray, his former friends and family he shafted are lining up with authored books exposing what and who he really is.
People are in the street demanding change while their leader is playing golf. America has turned on itself while Trump the ring master waves his wand. Is this what the masses are celebrating?
Actually no. America in the absence of leadership, or honesty is taking the reigns of power in the hands of the people and are restoring their dream with significant change at their back. Even in the midst of a President and those at the levers of power, out of control and flaunting the law, the people of the nation are coming together. They are not only demanding accountability they are demanding change. They want social and economic inequities corrected.
The young the old, black, brown and white saying enough is enough. They are cleaning up the nations back yard, taking down the decorations of hate in the form of monuments and other symbols,
yes in the midst of chaos, positive change is happening a new America is transforming from a caterpillar to a butterfly. Oh the voices of ignorance and hate and fear and doubt will continue to spew division, but they know their days are numbered and the world will move on without them.
For those on the road to progress, God’s speed. For those who doubt remember some change is like going to the Dentist, once the aching teeth are extracted, the healing can begin.
To all my American Friends. Happy 4th of July.
Lost Love Letter
Arnold Fine noticed a wallet lying on the street. It contained three dollars and a letter that had obviously been in the wallet many years. The last line in the letter stated “I will always love you, Michael.” It ended the romance between Hannah and Michael due to parental demands.
Arnold used the address to trace and phone Hannah but it was no surprise that she was no longer there. The new owner directed him to Hannah’s mother in a nursing home. That Care Facility informed him that Hannah’s mother had died but Hannah was now herself in a nursing home. Due to the nature of his search he was provided with the address of a different Care Facility where Hannah now was. She excitedly confirmed the authenticity of the letter but the only information she could add was Michael’s family name – Goldstein. A security guard asked about Fine’s visit and learned that it was very rewarding but the only new information he had learned was that Goldstein was Michael’s family name. “Goldstein,” exclaimed the guard. “There’s a Michael Goldstein on the eighth floor of this building!” Amazing!!
A visit to Michael confirmed the wallet was his, he had lost it on his walk. He had been Hannah’s serious boyfriend. Needless to say the next destination was an extremely surprising visit to Hannah’s room. WHAT A REUNION!! Arnold Fine received a wedding invitation soon after that. WOW!!
Sept., 1985 Readers Digest, Letter in the Wallet by Arnold Fine and referred to in The Grand Weaver by Ravi Zacharias p. 111
Come to think of it we all have a love letter to read. In the New Testament we are told that Jesus loved us enough to die for us. If it has been a while since you last opened that letter, start with the Gospel of John. Gospel means good news!
Do you have a short and snappy POLL question?
Suggestions before 6pm
Will think myself why checking out the SO today
Let’s see what we can come up with
Patricia Douglas pedals while undergoing dialysis in the Renal Department at Penticton Regional Hospital. The South Okanagan Similkameen Medical Foundation is challenging local residents to bike, swim or run to match kidney patients’ efforts while raising funds for more cycling machines and renal equipment at PRH.
The South Okanagan Similkameen Medical Foundation has launched its first annual BLOOD (Bike Like One On Dialysis) Challenge to raise funds for the Renal Department at Penticton Regional Hospital. Kidney dialysis patients come in for treatment at PRH three times a week – and some pedal on specialized cycling machines throughout each two-hour session.
Since Penticton hosts two major triathlons, an internationally renowned cycling event, and is a community that encourages people to stay active and fit, the BLOOD Challenge has been issued.
Carey Bornn, Executive Director of the SOS Medical Foundation said participants are challenged to commit anywhere from two to eight hours a week of biking, swimming or walking/running while raising funds to acquire medical equipment and more cycling machines for the PRH Renal Department.
The BLOOD Challenge runs through to August 30.
Today is a special day, a day to celebrate our good fortune that circumstance allowed us to be defined as Canadian. Twenty years ago our neighbors from Taiwan became Canadian Citizens. Being there to witness their induction into the family of Canadians, made me realize just how much I took for granted. I was born into the identity stamped Canadian. The Chen family next door, like so many other families became Canadian Citizens by choice. When you think about it, it is a great honor for a nation to be so well thought of others want to be Canadian.
Canada has its faults for sure but it has more virtues making it a land so many want to be part of. We use the term multicultural and say, as such we believe in tolerance. I have wondered about the term, and questioned whether it describes how we should approach each other. Instead of tolerant I think we should strive to be more understanding of each others culture.
The reason I point this out is we as Canadians are really part of each others culture, as part of our society. As a country we are more than a series of historical events, or momentary heroic deeds, although we are defined by those single moments in history. Some things were done in our name, that were shameful, true.
We did not condone them, nor were we alive when certain injustices were carried out also true. All too often we say it had nothing to do with me. True as well. The difference we can make is this. Instead of excusing ourselves with recited platitudes, we can simply acknowledge the truth and together move on. If most citizens knew the full extent of some of the things that were done to indigenous peoples they would say nothing as they hung their heads in shame at what our forefathers did, and did to others too.
The other day someone said to me. “Those wanting to come here should have to prove they’re good Canadians. They should have to know more about Canada.” Instead of being offended I proceeded with questions. How does one define who is a good Canadian? Who writes the questions? What about those born Canadian, should they be questioned or privileged with a predetermined label? The truth is there is a test and questions about Canada. New Canadians in many cases could score higher because they had to study what we take for granted. If someone born here couldn’t answer the questions, what then? Are they good Canadians?
Yes, I was playing a game of twenty questions, to point out there is no set of intellectual questions that would prove with absolute certainty who is or is not a good Canadian. An attachment to one’s country is an emotional one not simply statistical facts on a page. For those left to question, there are requirements to being granted citizenship. No criminal record, and other official safeguards in a screening process. Yes sometimes the system fails.
Ours is a nation of immigrants, we celebrate each others successes because we all contribute to our collective advancement as a society.
To this end let me say Happy Canada Day to you all.
The survey paints a bleak picture of the pandemic’s impacts on an already struggling fruit industry, and the real threat to food security in B.C. as producers are forced to cut crops to stay afloat.
“We knew things would be bad coming into the growing season this year, but these numbers are extremely troubling even to those of us in the industry,” said Pinder Dhaliwal, president of the BCFGA. “These numbers should worry anyone concerned about where their food will be coming from this fall, and how much it’s going to cost.”
The fruit industry says they were already facing stiff headwinds entering the 2020 growing season with apple prices depressed for three straight years, “the cost to produce has actually been higher than the price farmers receive for their crops,” says Dhaliwal.
•Four in five, 81 per cent say they are concerned about being able to cover the additional costs associated with following all COVID-related public health guidelines
•Seven in eight, 87 per cent are concerned they will not have enough hired labour to bring in their crops
According to industry data, BC’s interior tree fruit industry represents 800 growers operating orchards that generate $118 million in wholesale revenue and contribute $776 million in economic activity.
Oliver Parks and Recreation in partnership with the Oliver Fire Department are offering a free “drive-through breakfast” at the Community Centre parking lot July 1st 8:30-10:30am
Egg sandwiches, hashbrowns, juice and coffee will served while supplies last.
Attendees must stay in their vehicles at all times and staff and volunteers will be following COVID-19 safety protocols.
Prizes will be given for “best dressed” car!
ODN is about to take a bit of a summer holiday – July and August
This has been an interesting year so far – six months to go until 2021
How will this affect you?
Not much… but your expectations may be higher than I can meet at the moment
So ODN will be here today and every day – but all of the work may be done at a slower pace.
Those of you who have followed stories of my childhood, growing up with my grandma, have heard some of the horror stories of my gran’s cures for all ailments. In today’s world, grandma’s cures would be thought of as odd and a bit eccentric, two hundred years ago she would probably have been accused of witchcraft.
|My gran had a cure for whatever ailed you and I often felt that her philosophy was that the worst it tasted, smelled or stung, the better for the patient.
I had childhood asthma, probably because the upstairs bedrooms never got warm and always had a damp feeling. I had a permanent wheeze and when it got bad, I often had to sit up all night as I couldn’t breath lying down.
Gran treated my “weak chest” as it was called then by wrapping me in various layers of warm clothing. All English kids of my generation wore a Liberty bodice. A sort of short sleeved shirt, cotton fabric reinforced with satin vertical stripes. This would be buttoned up the front with around twenty tiny rubber buttons, they were rubber so they wouldn’t break in the big, old fashioned wringer that was an integral part of laundry day. This was only changed once a week, on bath night, which was just as well as the buttons took forever to push through the holes.
Underneath my Liberty bodice was a thick layer of goose grease, the cure-all for most chest ailments in Lancashire. Pinned to the neck of my garment was a camphor bag. Camphor is what moth balls were made of and the accompanying stink was supposed to keep me breathing freely. I know it made my eyes water with the smell that I couldn’t get away from.
A cough or cold also brought the added comfort of one of gran’s old lisle stockings, wrapped around my neck and holding in place a thick slab of fatty, raw bacon. I honestly thought nothing of all this as a child as many of my classmates wore similar home cures. Our poor teacher must have loved bending over her charges to see how their work was progressing and inhaling the various salves and potions.
Burns were treated with a liberal coating of butter and boils were treated in the cruellest way possible. Some milk would be boiled on the stove, a crust of bread soaked in it then slapped on the boil. The resulting cry and yell of the person getting treated seemed to convince gran that it was working. Luckily, I never once had a boil but my older brother, who was a bully and very nasty, was a frequent sufferer and would be brought to gran for treatment. I thought it was God’s way of punishing him for his cruelty to animals.
Gran made excellent cough syrup. She boiled together linseed, liquorish and lemons and it made a thick brown goo that tasted good. But any pleasure was soon forgotten when the cod liver oil was dispensed. It made me want to vomit but I swallowed it or the dose would be repeated. The resultant fishy taste would echo back through my digestive system for hours, it was really foul.
Friday night meant bath night. The big zinc bathtub was brought in from the yard, set in front of the fire and filled with hot water, I would have my hair washed and then could play in the bath for a while, which I loved. Gran would then dry me off and get my nightie on, it was then time for the weekly nit search.
Lice seemed to be the bane of kids of my generation but, for some reason, probably the stinky camphor bag, I never got them, however, I still had the weekly check. Kneeling in front of my grandma, who had a newspaper spread on her lap, she would comb through my hair with a nit comb. This was fine toothed, metal comb that caught any lice eggs between the teeth and fished them out of the hair. Every week I silently prayed she wouldn’t find any hitch-hikers, and she never did. However, when I was about ten, another cousin came to live with us as her mom had passed away. I don’t know why but she managed to get nits, none stop.
As gran found one offender after another, my cousin would receive a smack on the side of the head and a renewed scraping with the dreaded comb, until, I’m sure her head was raw. After this torture came the shampooing with the special medicated soap, which had to be left on for a while, then rinsed off. I felt really sorry for her but was so glad not to be on the receiving end of this treatment, that I kept quiet. Some of the poor neighbour children had mums that didn’t bother with the treatments and the kids got their heads shaved. What a cruel way to be singled out as a child, in those days nobody thought kids had feelings and were greatly ignored.
Growing up was a challenge and as nobody had any money, it was always a case of neighbour helping neighbour. Grandma helped deliver babies, she also laid out the dead. These were the days of the whole village knowing our business and everyone seemed to care about everyone else. Old ladies always had neighbours to carry coal in the house, children were taught to fetch groceries for them and nobody spent Christmas Day alone. A child found crying was brought indoors and looked after, until the problem had been solved. A neighbour was just as likely to give you a smack for bad behaviour as your caregiver, but you also knew that same neighbour would loo out for you, if you were in trouble.
A different world? Yes indeed, many of us now would be thought of as interfering if we took charge of someone else’s child, without being asked but I think many of us would still like to be good neighbours and lend a hand, we are maybe just frightened of being rebuffed. Still, it wouldn’t hurt any of us to try.
A rare occurrence
It is not often that I find myself in agreement with Prime Minister Trudeau but in his decision to not get on board with a prisoner exchange involving Meng Wanzhou – he is right. To yield to what the Chinese government has now admitted to being hostage diplomacy would put every Canadian that travels anywhere outside of Canada in grave peril in the future.
Should we as a country ever have gotten involved in this: Some legal experts believe that our legal system left us no choice but that is irrelevant now. We are in this, and it will have to take its course or we undermine our legal system both at home and in the eyes of the world. To change this for political reasons now would come with a cost.
What can we do inside our legal system?
What comes to mind though is that Meng Wanzhou has been granted every courtesy that could be granted her in spite of the treatment of the two Michaels in China. Although technically incarcerated Meng Wanzhou is a bird in a highly gilded cage, granted freedoms and luxuries well in excess of what many quarantined Canadians are experiencing.
Should Canada wish, her bail could be revoked and she could be remanded in custody as the 10 million bail hardly prevents her from being a flight risk. To put it in perspective the family wealth is estimated to be 1.3 billion or more, so if you had $130,000 in the bank that would be about $1,000 of that amount, not much of a deterrent when facing serious prison time in the USA.
The result of this without a doubt would put the two Michaels at risk but considering that Meng Wanzhou’s father Ren Zhengfei is one of the most powerful and influential people in China having strong connections to China’s Communist Government. Seeing his daughter in prison orange may bring pressure to bear on the Chinese government.
Meng Wanzhou would likely have to be held in protective custody as I think general population would be a very hazardous place for her.
This would be extremely risky and could drag us into a volatile confrontation. As former ambassador Michael Kergin put it “Meng Wanzhou is almost like Royalty in China” and that would make this a difficult and precarious course of action.
It is probably a very good thing that this decision is not mine to make.
“I hope that if one of my loved ones is suicidal, it doesn’t result in a police officer — when they are in handcuffs and unresponsive — doesn’t result in the police officer pushing their head to the ground by the way of their boot.”
“Doesn’t make any sense.”
Dr. Kelly Sundberg, Calgary
Jack – “no comment”
Basis of story – Walnut Beach Resort is a strata Hotel and according to the story – Manager discharged.
Confirmed by 3 reliable sources
Don Brogan is a director of the Destination Osoyoos board of directors.
In the past, Don has served on the BC Hotel Association Board of Directors (2008-2016), the South Okanagan Chamber of Commerce, The Osoyoos Chamber of Commerce, Oliver Chamber of Commerce, and the Desert Wine Country Tourism Association.
What is your personal interest in Osoyoos and Tourism?
“I have lived most of my life in the Osoyoos region and feel blessed to be able to continue living and working in the region. Tourism is the largest economical driver besides Agriculture and the three forms of government in our area. To not want to plan for and manage that economic driver that is so important to our livelihood would be a mistake. My business is all about tourism, but growing up here and having a family business operating for more than 40 tears, I know that tourism boosts many different businesses in our economy so that we all benefit from it.”
Since 2014, he has also been on the Board of Directors of TOTA – Thompson Okanagan Tourism Association.