I wrote this to my nephew just now. I'm editing out a bit about a family member. Not that he is likely to read this anyway. It just feels like the right thing to do.

We still don't have the car fixed. Took it in and they said it was all good, no sign of problem with the brakes. Then we drove it around Barrie for this and that and that light warning about the brakes came on again. So, whatever they, or (edited out), say the brakes are not ok. You have no idea how angry this kind of thing makes me. I keep quiet about it but... people so often fluff off things when someone (me) says there is a problem. Always excuses, reasons, fluff about how its nothing and I don't know what I'm talking about... etc. Urgghhh!!! So, the car is back in again this Monday. Will see if they figure out the problem, this 3rd time around. At least they aren't fluffing it off now that the car (not even a human being!) is telling them there is a problem. I don't know why I'm writing all this to you. You probably think I sound like a twit too.

I strongly disagree with cancel culture, book burning, etc. History doesn't go away just because people don't like it. Young people won't know Nancy Green because she was removed from the syrup bottles. So they won't see her and think to find out who she was. She becomes lost to history, because she was black, not because she wasn't worth remembering.

Posted by Terry Quinn on Facebook:

The branding of the syrup was a tribute to this woman’s gifts and talents. The world knew her as “Aunt Jemima”, but her given name was Nancy Green and she was a true American success story. She was born a slave in 1834 Montgomery County, Kentucky. and became a wealthy superstar in the advertising world, as its first living trademark. Green was 56-yrs old when she was selected as spokesperson for a new ready-mixed, self-rising pancake flour and made her debut in 1893 at a fair and exposition in Chicago. She demonstrated the pancake mix and served thousands of pancakes, and became an immediate star.

She was a good storyteller, her personality was warm and appealing, and her showmanship was exceptional. Her exhibition booth drew so many people that special security personnel were assigned to keep the crowds moving. Nancy Green was signed to a lifetime contract, traveled on promotional tours all over the country, and was extremely well paid. Her financial freedom and stature as a national spokesperson enabled her to become a leading advocate against poverty and in favor of equal rights for all Americans. She maintained her job until her death in 1923, at age 89. This was a remarkable woman, and sadly she has been ERASED by politics. I wanted you to know and remind you in this cancel culture time period.

I joined the Dull Women's Club, on Facebook.

When asked what I thought dull meant, I wrote: Simple, plain, normal, sane. Able to appreciate the smaller things in life, if not the better things.

This is what I wrote as my self introduction:

I'm excessively dull. Sometimes the highlight of my day is finding my backscratcher to get rid of an itch on my back. I live in Ontario, the small city of Barrie. At the end of this year I will be 60. I live with my Mother, who is now 80. I collect books, more than I can actually read. I make ASCII art. I have been a writer and editor online for years. I used to crochet and sew. I'm divorced with no children. I drink coffee. I couldn't find a photo of myself though I have easily a thousand photos I've taken of old farm houses around Ontario. I'm a volunteer with Ontario Barn Preservation, writing the newsletter, etc.

A later comment about growing foot size as we get older:

I think everything you don't want to grow, grows as you get older. Things you wish would grow, like getting just a bit taller, don't grow. I started wearing men's shoes because I could get the same size (more or less) by number but they were wider and longer than women's shoes. Once upon a time I was a size 6, now I'm a 10. Not a 10 in the way I'd like to be a 10, just the dull way of having bigger feet.

This morning I woke up early, got out of bed, had a shower, made coffee, washed a few dishes and now I'm sitting here comfortable in a nightgown, thick socks and housecoat while my hair dries. Barbie can't do most of that. Why, you may wonder. We all know about her figure problems. But, have you considered her feet?

I wrote this for the Feminist's in Make up community at BackWash. I'm not sure if anyone read it. So I'm sticking it here, cause I kind of liked it. Nothing fancy, just one of those ideas you get as you're doing something else.

My old Barbie clone, the Barbie's I see at the stores and the really old Barbie I used to have, spend their lives on tip toes. The feet are made to fit high heels. How does the woman ever feel comfortable in snuggly socks? How does she ever play sports?

I know they make a horse for her to ride, how does she do that in heels? Driving in heels isn't as easy as driving in flat shoes either. Is it ok for Barbie to be a dangerous driver just for fashion or whatever reason women wear shoes that wreck their feet?

Mostly though, Barbie can't just get out of bed and walk around barefoot until she finds her comfy socks. She can't wander around her home, half awake, in the dark. You try doing that on tip toes! Stub a toe and you won't get too far. She can't enjoy feeling comfortable. It's not fair. The poor girl will never get to first base if she can't wear the right shoes for running around the bases.

A lot of what I think about men and women comes back to the grooming issue. Do I really hate shaving my legs, wearing make-up (the whole girly girl thing) that much? Maybe I just resent them for pushing this lifestyle on us and making us feel less than a woman if we don't adhere to all of it.

Today I was looking at my arms. Not the pit hair, just that lighter hair that has always been there on my arms. I never thought about shaving it. But, a few weeks ago Todd said something about that dark hair on my arms and I happened to read some magazine or hear some yappy TV show about it too. Is that the latest thing we women are all supposed to become insecure about? Oh my gosh! I have hair growing on my arms!!!

When does it get to the point where we are just allowed to be women and exist as ourselves? I don't want to push myself into someone else's image of what a woman should be. I am a woman, I was born a girl and grew into a woman naturally, on my own, without any help from styling gels, hot wax or unnatural diets. I am a woman not because I'm girly girl but because I am a woman.