the proof of the pudding

She drove a white hummer.

She was in her late 30s to early 40s; she wore expensive looking clothes, although her taste was uninspired, had applied her make up with a heavy hand that morning. She leaned in confidentially and said, "I want to ask a question. Do you have parking security?"

Um hm, I admitted, noncommittally.

"Well, you might want to let them know -- there's a guy over there -- a native guy, and he's looking in the windows of cars."

I thanked her for her concern, assured her I would take care of it, and sent her on her way.

What I wanted to say was: "I don't mean to sound racist, Ma'am, but I can't help but notice that you're white and well off. Why would I take your word about anything, much less about what a person of aboriginal descent was doing? You people are such liars."

'Race' is such a strange concept when you think about it.

Later, waiting for a bus home, I made change for a young man who wanted to take the bus, but only had a fiver and didn't want to walk to the nearest store (two blocks away on a blustery day) for change. It will get you good karma, he murmured as I dug in my purse. Well, I needed some of that, so I found him two toonies and a loonie. It got me pondering exactly what good karma would look like in this day and age? What kind of good karma would $5 of change buy me? I think we can assume that anyone born in North America in the 20th or 21st centuries starts off with a shit load of good karma.

Saskatoon isn't a convenient place to be racist these days. The boom has made us an extremely multi-racial city, people from all over the world. I personally love it, but I imagine that it doesn't sit so well with some people.

What really annoyed me about the Lady in the Hummer was that she was such a fockin' stereotype. Middle class and well meaning and probably if you asked her she would deny that she was racist. No, no, I'm not racist, it's just that--

I try not to be a bigot, but I will admit to a strong antipathy toward people driving Hummers.

I made chocolate cookies last night. When I was little, my mother used to make something called chocolate drop cookies which were my ideal cookie. When I was leaving home I asked her for the recipe, but she said it was in her head and she didn't think she could reproduce it. Or some such nonsense.

Years later, I happened upon a recipe by that name in one of her old cook books, so I made it. I don't think it's the exact recipe that she made; my cookies are dryer than I remember hers being, and not as rich. Maybe she added some oil, or something. Even so, I quite like them (although at least one of my granddaughters turned up her nose at them. Pretty sure the middle grandkid thinks I'm a terrible cook). This time I made them with stevia, which is a sugar substitute. It's supposed to have no effect on the blood sugar, it's grown naturally, (one can even grow it oneself, apparently). I don't dislike it, although it sure isn't sugar. It starts with a bitter taste, and has a long aftertaste which is sort of flat and unexciting, like one of the fake sugars.

As it turns out, a good dose of chocolate (fair trade, these cookies are good for body and soul) more or less disguises the bitter preliminary taste, so the cookies are ok, if a little undynamic. I cheated a bit on the icing, it's a chocolate cream cheese icing sweetened with honey. I'll have to try making it with the stevia, see how that goes.

Feel the naked dust beneath my toes
while the future sun calls winds to blow
and the past and present black-eyed crow
flies hunting high and circling low
between dream mountains of our Eden.

--Jethro Tull, Mountain Men