We Stand On Guard

From before Confederation and to this day… This family stands on guard.

The Eclectic Poet

Since before Confederation, The American Revolution, The Boer War, The War of 1812, First World War, Second World War, Korea. On land, on sea, in air – my family has been proud to serve, fight and die for this country and yours. I wish I could honour all of them with a photo or a word or two. I’ll settle with the simplest and the most heartfelt.
Thank you.

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With Heartfelt Gratitude

This is one of my earliest posts about Remembrance Day.
I am reposting as my thoughts expressed here stand and sadly, nothing has changed except perhaps that “Lest We Forget” has now become “The World’s Biggest Shopping Day is now 11/11” and “11/11 isn’t just for Singles anymore!”
Service men and women fought for our right to freedom, not for our right to shop. Show some respect. Wear a poppy, stand for the two minutes, pull over, stop your damn car and be grateful that someone had the courage to make the sacrifice for you and your future.

The Eclectic Poet

“He is not missing, He is here”

~ Field Marshal Lord Plumer at the unveiling of the Menin Gate Memorial to the Missing 24th July 1927


I am the first generation in my family that hasn’t served, fought or died for this country…

It’s not a big deal, something that gets talked about alot. Just something I noticed about a decade ago while working on a November 11th project with the kids.

When it comes to mind lately, the thought is even more poignant…

Some of the children who went to school at the same time, who made the construction paper poppies and sang John Lennon’s  “Give Peace A Chance” at the Remembrance Day assembly –  “my kids” – are part of the Canadian Forces currently in Afghanistan.

Boggles the mind. The “War To End All Wars” has come and gone and still, the world fights on.

I doubt that…

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My Dad

Earl Charles Tupper
Husband, Father, Grandfather, Brother, Uncle, Friend
8 April 1937-13 October 2015

For my tolerance, Feminism, fairness, love of family and place
For my humour, bad habits, black hair, making fire with two sticks
For my strength that doesn’t shun tears, for believing in me no matter what
You will always be the measure of a man to which all others must aspire
I love you Papasan

~ ‘karn liz, xo

Heartfelt thanks for all of your kind comments, the support is so appreciated. I have some close friends here on WP and didn’t want to simply disappear without a word or stay away without letting you know what’s happened. Take good care, K


The only thing that could spoil a day was people. People were always the limiters of happiness, except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.

~ Ernest Hemingway

People always have an expected gain when they volunteer information.

Frankly, I am inclined to be suspicious about the motives and integrity of someone who tells me something negative about another person without facts or evidence. Certainly, It begs the question: why is the teller so threatened by the person they are maligning?

As writers, we know the importance of research, checking details and sources and if it matters to me at all, I’ll be check the facts rather than to act – in any way – that gives credence to what is only gossip unless and until all sides are out in the open and not whispered “behind the walls”.

… just thinking this AM

~ kei
30 May 2015


I really wanted to say something today.

This Remembrance ceremony has been in the works since my Nanny’s funeral the 5th January of this year. I would have thought it’d be a “no-brainer” to find words to speak at this beautiful woman’s interment. It would be fitting as I’m “Number One” of the fourteen grandchildren. I keep a journal at my bedside, in my purse and here, on the coffee table where I bang out all these words everyday. Nothing came. Not a damn thing.

I dreamed dreams. I dreamed of an auburn-haired girl of about six, running through a field of yellow daffodils, in pursuit of a slightly older auburn-haired girl under a brilliant blue sky. I ran after them but I was who I am now and even though I called after the younger, she didn’t hear me. She never turned away from the giggling chase of her older sister, even when I called to her in Welsh, which I don’t speak…

Just last week, I told my Mum that no, I wouldn’t be doing a reading and it’s fair to say that the complications of PTSD and the Agoraphobia that can be crippling at times, factored into my decision. Even in the loving arms of my family, I am painfully aware of the ADD that trips my tongue, colours my cheeks and has me antsy and feverish and in other situations, caused an unkind assessment of my drinking habits! … I couldn’t do it. Not even for Nanny. I knew she’d get it and the family too.

Poequote Holland Death Is Nothing

There were words… Of course there were. I’m a writer, a poet. I count my leanings that way and my singing voice as being some of the gifts from this branch of my family tree. I just couldn’t grab hold of them long enough to shape them in ink on the page… or have keystrokes capture them, as it were. I was frustrated by this. This should be a simple task, to say what my Grandmother meant to me and frustration turned to chagrin. I could turn out blog posts and Instagram nonsense but nothing meaningful for today.

This morning as I lay in bed, the air was warm and heavy and redolent with the scent of rain to come. I hoped the sun that lurked behind the pearly sky would hold for the outdoor gathering and finally, I had an epiphany… still too flowery as I try to capture it here but heartfelt nonetheless.

Nanny, Bampy, Karin

This woman was one of the first people to hold me. Her voice and lilting laugh are among the first sounds I heard. Her glorious auburn hair and delicate features among the first sights to imprint themselves on my eyes. Her music, her talent with thread and needle, her love of shoes, knowledge of couture, a signature scent and love for the colour purple all passed to me in my own Mum’s womb.

Nanny & Bampy 1992

How could any words that I think or pen, convey the depth and breadth of the impact of Evelyn May Collins on my life? How do you describe someone who has gifted you with her own legacy, has been one of those who helped you to learn to speak?

Nanny C's 95th At Mum's

“I love you Nanny. Eleventy Hundred”

~ ‘Karn Liz
9 May 2015

9 May 2015 EMC

Forgive, Forget. Let’s Talk Respect

I’ve been thinking about forgiveness quite a bit the last week.

So much so that I started a post that soon became an essay with a side of rant.
I’m not ranting though. Not even mad; not really.

There’s been a meme going round about a teacher who brilliantly provides her students with a lesson on forgiveness. Unless you live under a rock, you’ve likely read it.

The Crumpled Paper lesson on bullying and sorry.

We teach our children these things. We “like” and “share” those memes but so many adults do not walk the walk. It’s like there’s been a collective regression in society. I know my opinion is nothing new, it just has touched my life significantly in the last two years.

The last couple days, I’ve come to think that forgiveness and respect have a lot in common. They aren’t just automatically given. Like that crumpled sheet of paper, a terse “sorry” doesn’t fix things and certainly doesn’t entitle you to forgiveness. I think the belief that it should be is part of the culture of instant gratification that we’ve created.

Ten Things Forgiveness is Not Reconciliation by Gail Meyers The Scapegoats of a Narcissistic Mother 9

There’s a lot of memes state forgiving makes you the bigger person and it lifts a burden from your shoulders. I’m sure that’s true. I’ve embraced that. There are some situations and circumstances though, where I’ve seen a person who is legitimately wronged being shamed for not instantly forgiving on that grudging, lame-ass “Sorry”. That isn’t reasonable.

In this Internet age we have the ability to hurt far and beyond what we may intend; may in fact, come to regret. As adults, we have a responsibility to curb our tempers, particularly in the public realm. It’s easy to make use of that publish button, that tweet or email. It’s hard to accept that if you deliberately use these weapons to harm someone, they will hit the mark and your acquired target will not be able to defend themselves. It’s highly unlikely that a “sorry” – even if you do mean it – will put things back to rights.That momentary feeling of power – shaming the person you’re angry with, the ego-boosting pets and coos of people who only hear your side, their inevitable jumping to conclusions and their subsequent shaming or punishment of your target – will pass. You’ll want things back the way they were. The worst part of this is how people vent like overgrown two-year olds because they didn’t get their way, or deliberately ignored what the other person was saying and then expect their vengeful behavior to be simply forgiven and forgotten. No one should be made to feel bad because they don’t wish to forgive someone who offers no more than that insincere schoolyard “sorry” or the “well you made me do it”. Or worse, behind the scenes make up attempts, while taking no responsibility for the fallout of making a private “owie” a public stoning.

What may fix things is atonement. Atonement and making restitution. These things prove your sincerity and like respect, may earn you forgiveness. They may not put things back as they were but that isn’t really what they are intended for. They are to right a wrong that you’ve done.

Regardless if you felt justified – as adults, we should understand that personal relationships do not warrant a public airing – because as my other favourite parable about the woman, the rabbi and the feather pillow – we can’t possibly take back every word we spoke on a blog, a private email or anywhere else. That damage is done. It’s all too easy to try to win our point in public only to regret deeply in private. As a compassionate person, I can appreciate someone regretting their actions toward me – I certainly have done when I’ve lost my temper – but if that person had the balls to call me out in public and do my reputation, integrity and professional life significant harm, they should have the balls to atone with a public statement to own their bad temper.

What I carry isn’t a burden but the lesson that no one can be trusted to act with honour or integrity and that our society has become nothing more than a schoolyard full of bullies just waiting to feel entitled.

Unless and until atonement happens, I don’t forgive and I don’t forget.
It’s not my job to make nice so that you feel better.

Don’t treat your relationship like a sideshow because sometimes…
We have to live with the consequences of our actions.

Drake lyrics

Drake lyrics

~ kei
1 November 2014


There is a rage in the cage
My jail is of your perception
I am not just a hobby
Was that your intention

Because when I’m alone
Silence cuts to the bone

Did you think I should be happy
With only scraps from your table
To be worked in to you life
Only when you can schedule

Because when I’m alone
Silence cuts to the bone

You claim that you love me but I’m here alone
Tell me she’s cold yet you refuse to leave her
Your emails come from exotic, couples trips
Since when is that love? Not now. Not ever

Because when I’m alone
Silence cuts to the bone

If you can’t be seen with me in public
Don’t expect my sex, heart or soul
Why should I accept just part
I seek the other half of my whole

I may be alone but I’m doing just fine
Silence may be golden but I won’t be your concubine

~ kei
21 October 2014


Don’t allow another person to throw their black and white over the rainbow of your soul

And when someone shows you their true colours
Don’t try to repaint them

~ kei

18 August 2014

(The first line is my own, the second line is a well known quote, credited to “Anonymous”. If you know the original source, please let me know)

True Colors by TheLCoakster on Deviant Art