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Vol. X, No. 4 January 24, 2004 IN THIS ISSUE:
 NEW EDITORIAL POLICY Alerted by a letter from "Beverley in Belfast", who found a reference to the Tale Spinner in a search of Google, I too looked up this newsletter. I was surprised to find a number of hits, all directed to the websites run by Marion Telling in Ontario and Burke Dykes in Seattle. When the Spinner was only an obscure little letter from an old-fashioned board, I didn't worry about publishing contributors' e-mail addresses. Now, however, with the wider exposure, it is possible that those addresses could be picked up and used by spammers, so I have decided to give the names of contributors but not their addresses. This will be my policy from now on, unless someone specifically asks to have his address included. If readers have comments to make about contributions, I will pass them on to the authors/senders.
Margaret Manning continues her stories about gardening in January in New Zealand: COMPANION PLANTING Last time I wrote about herbs I mentioned that the most useful one in our garden was comfrey. This herb is not at all pretty to look at. Even when it's flowering, it would be difficult to call this herb attractive. That's because its leaves are so large and thick, and when they start to age, the leaves turn yellow and then brown. Who'd want anything so boring-looking in the garden? But it's certainly a wonderful plant on the inside. We used to grow comfrey away from other plants because of its appearance. If it likes the spot it's in, it sends its roots deep down into the soil, and expands its territory by spreading its leaves. So it was planted in a distant spot in the garden out of harm's way. When we did a bit of re-organisation of the vegetable and herb areas, I took a tiny piece of comfrey root from the main plant and dug it into a more central deep bed. I thought it would be in a handier place to grab a piece to ease a bee or wasp sting, or to pull leaves as the basis of an organic spray. The leaves are steeped in water for a day or so. When the mixture looks totally revolting, the slimy green stuff is removed (using gloves of course) and put into the compost or buried alongside pumpkins. The liquid is poured over or around the base of vegetables. This is supposed to assist in keeping the crops healthy. The tiny piece of root I put near the main garden is now two feet high and about the same size across. I dread to think how far the roots have spread. But growing very vigorously alongside the comfrey are feverfew, rhubarb and French sorrel, all of which were struggling to survive before the comfrey was put there. I grow feverfew just because I like the delicate daisy-like flowers and the light green leaves. I don't use it medicinally. We've always had a struggle to grow rhubarb. We usually get enough for one meal and then the single plant dies back. As if by magic, that one pathetic rhubarb plant has reproduced itself and we now have four healthy plants competing with each other to produce the best rhubarb. Not to be outdone, what was left of the old French sorrel (we'd shifted it several times) burst back into life and has seeded. And there's yet another instance where I think comfrey may have helped a troubled plant. We had a tiny Feijoa bush struggling to survive near the sorrel. It looked really sad with blackened, curled leaves and we were thinking it would have to go. Then one day recently we noticed it had put on new growth, there was no sign of disease, and the leaf colour was restored. We could only put this down to the powers of the nearby comfrey plant. So I really do believe that comfrey has some remarkable healing powers and deserves a better spot in the garden than the distant corner.
Dalton Deedrick writes about a volunteer stint he did during A MONTH IN AFRICA Africa ... that great "Dark Continent" that has intrigued most of us who heard about Stanley and Livingston in our school days, or those who read "King Solomons Mine", or those who went to the movies to see "Trader Horn", or "Out of Africa". It was always a dream of mine to get a closer look at that distant corner of the world, and by great good fortune, this dream did come to pass somewhat late in my life. To set the stage for this account, I practiced dentistry for some 40 years in Alberta, but back in 1969 a medical friend and I did a three- month volunteer stint in Tanzania. A few years later a heart attack put a severe crimp in my life, resulting in a somewhat earlier retirement than planned. After a few months I was enjoying quite a good recovery, enough so that I felt I could return to some degree to the work I had so thoroughly enjoyed. As a long-standing Rotarian, I was aware that they had medical and dental clinics all over the globe, so a few phone calls later I was advised that there would be a clinic spot open in Kenya in a little bush hospital an hour's drive north of Nairobi. The term would be for a month. With nothing pressing on my "To Do' list here in a wintery Alberta, I replied to the offer with "Yes". As I was to find out later, this may not have been the wisest thing to have done for someone with a slightly wonky heart, but more of that later. I have been a diary keeper for many years, and the other day I chanced upon the journal that was written day by day over the course of that memorable month. Perhaps someone who reads this will accompany me vicariously through what was, for me, an exciting adventure. March 4, 1995. The past two weeks have been spent assembling whatever disposables I could muster, and as a result two enormous bags totaling 115 lbs. are packed with gloves, needles, anaesthetic carpules, some surgical gear, and a few clothes and books for the ensuing month. March weather has turned sour in central Alberta, -10 F, a strong wind, and five inches of new snow. Decided to let my son take us to Calgary in his 4X4 if the drifting became serious. Made the flight deadline with an hour to spare. Had to go westward first to Vancouver, then catch an eastbound British Airways 747 to go to London. An omen of good luck to start with: I got booted up to "Business Class" from "Tourist", so the following ten-hour trip was enhanced by ample leg room, a congenial German seat mate, and a rather better than expected dinner and breakfast. My big bags had been cleared from Calgary to Nairobi, so I only had my carry-on to lug through perfunctory passport, customs and immigration officials. I had been pre-booked into one of the many hotels which are on the airport periphery, and in due course a bus which circles the airport endlessly to accommodate travelers such as I deposited me at my hotel. It is wonderful to be able to speak the language and read the signs where one is deposited. March 5. Rather a Spartan room, but clean sheets and a most welcome sleep. The window looks out on the approach to Heathrow airport, and after 5 p.m. I can see the incoming traffic. There are four or five jumbo jets in the circuit, with landings averaging every 70 seconds. I wonder how the terminal handles that many arrivals. Only managed a few hours of sleep before catching the circling bus, and back to depart for Nairobi. Mar 6. An overnight flight in a very cramped aircraft, and down and dry in Nairobi at 10:30 a.m. local time. Now the fun starts! Customs, passport, immigration all O.K. but no carts available for the two mountainous bags, and a long way to the reception area. A nice American couple who were incoming to meet their missionary daughter managed to scrounge a cart with one wheel which determinedly stayed at 90 degrees to the other three, and we cooperated in dragging their and my belongings over to the exit. One of the happiest moments when landing far from home is to see someone along the disembarking line holding up a sign with your name on it. There she was! A rotund little nun with a broad smile, and the welcoming sign above her head. Her name, she told me, was Sister Mary Christopher, and she was the senior administrator of the hospital to which I was to go. She had her Dental Units' vehicle, a most unpromising looking old Peugeot which I mentally tagged as "unsafe at any speed". The interior did nothing to dispel that impression, none of the gauges operated, and the seats were squashed down to floor level. However, it started and ran well, and cheery little Sister Mary Christopher buzzed through Nairobi like a pro. The hour's drive up to Thika was on paved road, and before taking the road to the hospital, ten miles beyond, we saw a roadside pineapple vendor. She said "I will 'bar-gain' for them," and I could never ascertain how much the asking price varied from the final purchase price. I am sure she paid less than I would have. When we finally got to our destination I was met by Dr. Bob Liners and his wife, Lois, whom I was to relieve. They were just finishing his month. They had brought along a granddaughter of about twelve, just to let her share the African experience. Bob has done over forty similar volunteer stints around the world after retiring, and is still as energetic as anyone twenty years younger. The house is quite adequate, with electricity, propane stove and hot water, as long as the big outside tank is full. Lois had a great supper ready and the rest of the day was spent getting acquainted with what was in prospect for the next four weeks. To be continued.
Kate Brookfield recently attended a Rotary Club meeting at which Stephen Lewis was the guest speaker. Here is her account of his speech: STEPHEN LEWIS Stephen Lewis, UN Special Envoy for HIV AIDS, received a standing ovation when he came to the podium. His time was limited as this was a regular Rotary lunchtime meeting. He confined his talk to three anecdotes, but each anecdote opened our minds to the extent of the HIV AIDS problem in Africa and other places. The first story was about a conversation he heard when somebody commented that in North America the AIDS situation was improving as "there had been no funerals lately". This made Lewis think of the double standard of life in North America compared with Africa. In North America there may be days when there are no death from AIDS, but in Africa there are funerals every day. We were told that 20 million have died from this illness and 30 million have HIV AIDS, many of them women and children. The second anecdote was about Botswana, where, in the age group of 15 to 49 years, all are infected. Lewis was visiting a clinic and talking to the patients. He asked them, "What do you need?" They started to list things like computers, televisions, and he stopped them. He said, "I mean, what do you need for your treatment?" The answer amazed him. "Nothing ... we have all the treatment that is available and hospital care is available when we need it ... all free, provided by the government." Lewis went on to say that, apart from South Africa, Botswana is the only African country that is actively doing something about the HIV AIDS problem. He offered this story as a demonstration of what can be done. The sad fact is that no other country is trying to do anything. His last anecdote was about a group of grandmothers in South Africa. They had formed a Grannies group to help each other. With the majority of deaths being in the age group of 15 to 49, many orphaned children are being raised by their grandmothers. One woman in the group told him that she had lost all of her five children to AIDS. She was raising four grandchildren and all have been found positive to HIV AIDS. This woman is going to bury her complete family before she dies. Lewis concluded his talk by asking us if this loss of human life is necessary. The problem is so huge that "moral resolve evaporates" when faced with the challenges of what can be done. But he said there are glimmers of hope. He has founded the Stephen Lewis Foundation and is overwhelmed by the generosity and messages they are receiving every day. There are also others raising funds: The Clinton Fund and the Bill Gates Foundation. The cost of drugs must be reduced. At the moment it costs $150 US per person per year to alleviate the suffering. Lewis ended by saying that he hopes PM Paul Martin passes an Act to send drugs to Africa. But what is needed is a vaccine. The E-AVI trials have not yet reached the stage to test on humans. He said "something must be wrong" if we can't get a vaccine. He congratulated Rotary International on its action towards eliminating polio in the world and challenged them to set a new goal to support development of the much-needed AIDS vaccine. After Stephen Lewis was thanked, Ms Cole asked if she could introduce an author who came to her asking if she could help find a publisher for a book she has written. A six-year-old girl was brought to the podium. Page Peddlar has written a book called, "Who Will Hug Them at Bedtime?" She read her little story about orphans in Africa. It ended with, "And do you know it only costs $4.00 a day to save a child?" It was a very simple and moving presentation that got more applause than Stephen Lewis. Sadly, in my opinion, the moment was lost as nobody followed by up by suggesting that everybody in the room donate that $4.00 as they left. But I am sure Page will get her book published. Stephen Lewis thanked Page for her story and told us that children of Page's age are often the main caregivers in families that have been stricken with HIV AIDS.
CORRESPONDENCE Marion Telling writes: "...How I enjoyed Dick Monaghan's 'Mirror Mirror' - so reflective, not to mention hilarious!" (Are you being punny, Marion? - Ed.)
Carol Shoemaker reminds us to KEEP ON CLICKING The Breast Cancer site is having trouble getting enough people to click on it daily to meet their quota of donating at least one free mammogram a day to underprivileged women. It takes less than a minute to go to their site and click on "donating a mammogram" for free (pink window in the middle). This doesn't cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate mammogram in exchange for advertising. Here's the web site: http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=2 ED. NOTE: While you're there, click on the other worthwhile sites - the hunger site, children's health site, rain forest site, and animal site. All these are worthy causes, don't take much time, cost you nothing, and every click counts.
Gerrit de Leeuw sends these stories about the TOP EIGHT MORONS OF 2003 1. WILL THE REAL DUMMY PLEASE STAND UP? - AT&T fired President John Walter after nine months, saying he lacked intellectual leadership. He received a $26 million severance package. Perhaps it's not Walter who's lacking intelligence. 2. WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS: Police in Oakland, California spent two hours attempting to subdue a gunman who had barricaded himself inside his home. After firing ten tear gas canisters, officers discovered that the man was standing beside them in the police line, shouting, "Please come out and give yourself up." 3. WHAT WAS PLAN B??? An Illinois man, pretending to have a gun, kidnapped a motorist and forced him to drive to two different automated teller machines, wherein the kidnapper proceeded to withdraw money from his own bank accounts. 4. THE GETAWAY: A man walked into a Topeka, Kansas Kwik Stop, and asked for all the money in the cash drawer. Apparently, the take was too small, so he tied up the store clerk and worked the counter himself for three hours until police showed up and grabbed him. 5. DID I SAY THAT? Police in Los Angeles had good luck with a robbery suspect who just couldn't control himself during a line-up. When detectives asked each man in the line-up to repeat the words: "Give me all your money or I'll shoot," the man shouted, "That's not what I said!" 6. ARE WE COMMUNICATING? A man spoke frantically into the phone, "My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart!" "Is this her first child?" the doctor asked. "No!" the man shouted, "This is her husband!" 7. NOT THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE SHED: In Modesto, California, Steven Richard King was arrested for trying to hold up a Bank of America branch without a weapon. King used a thumb and a finger to simulate a gun, but unfortunately, he failed to keep his hand in his pocket. (hellllllooooooo!) 8. THE GRAND FINALE (I love this one!): Last summer, down on Lake Isabella, located in the high desert, an hour east of Bakersfield, Cal. some folks, new to boating, were having a problem. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get their brand new 22-foot boat going. It was very sluggish in almost every maneuver, no matter how much power was applied. After about an hour of trying to make it go, they putted to a nearby marina, thinking someone there could tell them what was wrong. A thorough top side check revealed everything in perfect working condition. The engine ran fine, the out drive went up and down, and the propeller was the correct size and pitch. So, one of the marina guys jumped in the water to check underneath. He came up choking on water, he was laughing so hard. NOW REMEMBER ... THIS IS TRUE. Under the boat, still strapped securely in place, was the trailer.
In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their language. - Mark Twain |