Rose's Cantina

Embed from Getty Images Scott and I were sitting around a couple of nights ago planning our funerals -- as one does on a beautiful summer night. Actually, we were in a money management meeting in the backyard, eating tapas and drinking. We have those now and again to make sure that we have enough money to live out the rest of our days, and leave enough to dispatch our asses so the kids don't have to pass the hat. Me, I could care less. Might as well sweep me to the curb but not everybody thinks that way. We don't have a lot of expenses but we do have to budget for home and car repairs, vet bills, and so on. I'm hoping to have a little dental work done, and maybe replace the carpets after the unfortunate pet incidents involving seizures, mouth foam, urine and feces. But I also want to make sure that death is covered. I don't worry about taxes because, in the last few years, I haven't made enough money to pay taxes. I applied for the Canada Pension Plan w...

We held a memorial for Jennette yesterday, and by all accounts, it was a complete success. Well, not quite. Scott was in charge of the music, and he couldn't get it going. His tech skills appear to be rusty now that he's a retired CBC cameraman. Leonard Cohen was with us, sitting on the iPad, but the voices of his lovely singers couldn't seem to reach the speaker my husband held in his hand. Like the good emcee I was, I tapped danced for a few minutes. "Well, I guess we know why the CBC is in trouble," I quipped, giving my husband the stinkeye. Fortunately, we didn't have to endure a Don Mclean nightmare, another day the music died. Scott finally got it going, and we were saved. Today, I'm suffering from a funeral hangover. The feeling is familiar. I remember it from the myriad funerals I attended as a child who was blessed with lots of genetically compromised elderly relations whose arteries were altered by booze and cigarettes. The Blood...

One of the great things about municipal governments is that, generally, they get things done smoothly and in consultation with the residents who elect them. It's not always the case, but if a decision has to be made it gets made or residents can walk up to the mayor and give him an earful at whatever meeting, ribbon cutting or celebration he is attending. Not so in Ottawa where many of the decisions about the aesthetics of the place are made by people who don't even live here, have never lived here and will never lived here. That's because the National Crapital Commission TM has its ball in nearly every play. Its board of directors is made up of people you and I have never heard of, with the exception of former Mayor Jackie Holzman and Chairman Russ Mills who was dumped as publisher of the Ottawa Citizen a few years back. There are 13 cogs in the NCC wheel who live elsewhere. That's nearly twice as many people on the Board who live in Vancouver or Montreal and co...

Dear Justin Trudeau: We know that you are a little light in the loafers when it comes to policy, and given I am one of the editors of the original Red Book (true story!), I have a policy idea for you. It will save Canadians money once a year, and it will make everyone's life a lot simpler. This weekend, many Canadians will be gathering up their tax files and installing Turbo Tax, then e-filing their taxes. Wait. Let's rewind. This time of year, everyone will be scrambling to get themselves to a big box store and get the cheapest version there is of Turbo Tax (80-140 bucks). Alternatively, they will be getting themselves to a tax preparer (accountant, Money Mart, H&R Block) and handing over boxes of receipts. Then somebody will e-file it for them, and give them a juicy refund right on the spot. Or in Nick's case, they will cheerfully announce that the government is taking their refund for pay off back debt. That will be fifty bucks! Sigh. I believe that t...

When I used to make money, I approached tax season with dread. Did I keep that receipt for that $135 lunch at Hy's? Will I have enough gas receipts so the revenuers will believe I actually drive my car? Usually, the tax bill was about $7,000. That's because I got support payments and in the old days, the supportee had to pay tax on support payments leaving the bastard supporter able to write them off. This meant that if he was paying $20,000 in support every year on paper, he was actually paying $12.50. It also meant that if I worked and made a success of myself, I would have to put away $600 a month for taxes. The government changed the law the year after I got divorced and I was told I would have to go to court and spend thousands on lawyers to get my situation re-assessed. Which I couldn't afford. Given the $7,000 tax bills I already had. Screw and tattooed. That's what I got with single motherhood. So by the time tax season came, I was a nervous wreck. ...