Nancy's Notes

Today, I Packed My Pride

As I was preparing my suitcase yesterday for an upcoming trip out of the country, I did something I’ve never really done before: I stopped to admire the little red Canadian flag tag clipped to my luggage. It’s plastic. Nothing fancy. But in that moment, it felt like everything. That simple red tag reminded me of who I am and where I’m from, and this morning, I’m feeling it deeply.

Because yesterday, Canada reminded me why I love this country. From the opening of the new session of Parliament, to the respectful election of the Speaker of the House, to the first words spoken by our new Prime Minister, Mark Carney, it just felt good. It felt hopeful. It felt like democracy, not chaos. And yes, I know there will be debates, disagreements, and challenges ahead. But I also know that what we saw wasn’t performative or rage-fuelled. It was respectful, steady, and real.

And that’s something we can’t take for granted right now.

Because let’s be honest, the contrast with what’s happening south of the border is staggering. There, leadership is defined by late-night rants from a man who seems one social media post away from igniting a global crisis. There, Memorial Day is overshadowed by narcissism instead of solemn remembrance. There, tone has been obliterated, and decency has become optional.

Today in Canada, tone still matters. We still show up for each other, for our institutions, and for the values that have shaped this country, even when we don’t always agree.

And while not everyone loves the monarchy, I’ll admit: I’m kind of into the pageantry today. King Charles and Queen Camilla will ride in a carriage through Ottawa, welcomed with full military honour, before delivering the Speech from the Throne in Canada’s Senate. It’s symbolic, yes. But sometimes symbols matter. Because structure, tradition, and dignity help us remember who we are. And right now, I think we need that.

We have so much in common with the United States, European settler roots, immigrant foundations, a shared border, a deep cultural bond. But we’re also different. And we need to hold onto that difference. Especially when we hear things like the President of the United States claiming our border was “drawn with a ruler.” Really? I’d love to know what map he’s looking at. From Ontario and the Great Lakes to the twists and turns of Quebec and Atlantic Canada, our border is anything but straight. It’s complex, beautiful, and hard-won, just like the country it outlines.

And that’s the thing. Canada isn’t perfect. We have work to do, on reconciliation, on inequality, on defending democracy against disinformation. But we still show up. We still respect the process. And we still understand that a functioning democracy doesn’t have to be loud to be strong.

So maybe this post is just a love letter. A bit of ramble. A bit of red and white. A bit of “Yay, Canada.” But it’s also a reminder.

A reminder that today, our democracy is on full display. A reminder that tone is everything. A reminder that some plastic luggage tags carry the weight of a lifetime of pride.

And maybe, just maybe, in a world that sometimes feels like it’s spinning off its axis, Canada is still one of the few places quietly holding the centre.

So Canada, please, be who you are. Know who you are. Know how fortunate we are to live in this incredible, imperfect, determined country.

And for anyone watching from afar, especially from south of the border: Our sovereignty is not up for discussion. It is absolute. It is earned. It is non-negotiable.

Long may we wave our flag.

While the House Burns, Two Guys Bring Buckets

There’s a fire burning in Alberta, slow in some places, raging in others, and most days, it feels like the people in charge are too busy stoking the flames to care about the damage. But while the government fans the smoke of fake sovereignty and political theatre, two guys have shown up with buckets but we are going to need more buckets and people to carry them.

Because there’s a particular kind of madness unfolding here. The kind where a government that can’t deliver health care or transparency suddenly wants to deliver us from Canada. Cue the fireworks, the federal finger-pointing, and the WestJet seat-sale version of a sovereignty conversation. It’s tempting to ignore it. I did. For a while.

Because surely no one is actually buying this snake oil in bulk, right? But then you start to realize: while you were rolling your eyes, someone else was rolling out the velvet rope to their own little constitutional cosplay convention. And even if it’s a circus, it’s still dragging the whole crowd with it. That’s when it stops being funny.

Which is exactly why I want to talk about Thomas A. Lukaszuk and Ken Chapman, two guys who are doing the opposite of that. They’re not chasing a spotlight. They’re not selling us an identity crisis with a side of fake nationalism. They’re just trying to make things actually better. And let me tell you, in this province right now, that is borderline subversive behaviour.

Thomas came to Canada as a kid from communist Poland, grew up, served this province in a number of cabinet roles, including in education where, yes, we occasionally butted heads. But unlike the current crop of ideologues, Thomas showed up. He answered the tough questions. And when Russia invaded Ukraine, he didn’t just post a flag emoji, he got on the ground and helped send resources across the border via Poland. Real work. Real effort. No hashtags.

And Ken Chapman? Ken is the guy who keeps showing up to the fight with nothing but reason, research, and his belief that Alberta still has a soul. He’s been quietly leading @ Reboot Alberta for years, long before it was trendy to talk about democratic reform. And while dealing with serious personal health challenges, he’s never stopped trying to drag this province back toward something resembling sanity.

These two just teamed up again, not to win power or cash a consulting cheque, but to help us rethink what Alberta could be. Not separate, but smarter. Not angrier, but accountable. Not louder, but better.

Now, here’s the kicker: they’re doing this during a time when the UCP would really prefer you didn’t ask questions about, say, education, health care, environmental fraud, or pension theft. And if you think the sovereignty sideshow isn’t part of that, I have a privatized ER in Fort Mac I’d like to sell you.

Look, I still don’t believe Alberta will separate. But I do believe in sleight of hand. While we’re all shouting about flags and feds, the real damage is happening in the background. To kids. To seniors. To democracy.

So, if you’re asking me who deserves attention right now? It’s not the ones trying to pick a constitutional fistfight with a ghost. It’s the guys filling buckets while the house burns.

Their names are Thomas Lukaszuk and Ken Chapman.

And if the arsonists in charge want us distracted, maybe it’s time we stop watching the smoke, and start following the people carrying water.

Stay tuned to learn how you can help.

When Journalism Sells Its Soul for a Book Deal

I didn’t plan to write last night. I planned to read and relax. But once again, the media landscape served up something so ethically bankrupt, I can’t let it go. What I saw yesterday on CNN wasn’t journalism it was opportunism.

Let me be clear: I’m not a journalist. I write opinion. I try to be accurate, but I don’t wear the press pass. That title belongs to people who once chose truth over profit and public interest over personal branding. But those people are becoming harder to find.

For weeks, CNN has been running what amounts to built-in promotional segments for ‘Original Sin’ written by anchor Jake Tapper and Alex Thompson. Not labelled as ads, just conveniently timed “discussions” and “buzz-building” that blurred every line between news and marketing. The book, which drops today, centers on allegations that Joe Biden’s declining mental and physical health during his presidency was known inside the White House and deliberately concealed from the public. If Biden’s health was newsworthy, and you had inside information, why wait until book launch day to unleash it? The answer is obvious: this wasn’t about informing the public. It was about cashing in.

That’s not journalism. That’s PR with better lighting.

And yesterday Jake Tapper and assorted other CNN anchors spent the day interviewing oncologists and urologists about Biden’s newly revealed cancer diagnosis. The day before the book launch day. Let that sink in.

An anchor with a financial and reputational stake in a book about Biden’s health and presidency, interviewing medical professionals live on air about Biden’s health. One doctor from Yale refused to be dragged into the spectacle. He calmly explained that prostate cancer can progress quickly and without symptoms, and that PSA testing isn’t routinely recommended for men over 70.

But Tapper kept pressing. Kept prodding. Kept trying to extract something headline-worthy that would support the thesis of his book. And here’s the question no one at CNN seemed to ask: Why was he even on air? Jake Tapper should not have been there yesterday, and he absolutely should not have been assigned to cover Biden’s diagnosis on the day before his own book about Biden’s hidden health issues was released. The ethical breach is glaring.

To be fair, CNN isn’t the only one failing us. Canadian and American media alike have turned interviews into performance art. Last week, Vassy Kapelos, of CTV, someone I usually admire pressed Prime Minister Mark Carney three times on his “feelings” about trusting Donald Trump. He answered. “We will work together.” But she kept pushing. “Do you trust him?” “My answer stands,” he said. Because clarity doesn’t trend. Drama does.

We talk a lot about the pressure placed on journalists by political actors, especially Donald Trump. But let’s stop pretending that’s the only problem. Many journalists are complicit. This isn’t just external, it’s internal. These are editorial choices. To delay, sensationalize, monetize.

Contrast that with people like Ira Rosen, the 60 Minutes producer who resigned from CBS rather than compromise his integrity under political pressure. That’s what ethics looks like. That’s what saying no looks like.

What CNN did today wasn’t just a misstep; it was a betrayal of trust, of standards, and of a man battling cancer with grace. It’s not difficult to see when someone’s pain is being turned into a talking point. And before anyone thinks I have developed an afinity for Fox News don’t worry that conversation isn’t a social media post, it’s a fiction novel.

I still pay for subscriptions to outlets I trust, because I want journalism to survive. But what I saw today wasn’t journalism. It was a circus. And Tapper wasn’t the ringmaster. He was the carny selling the fixed games.

This may be the moment cable news hit bottom for me. Not because of partisanship. Not because of spin. But because it took something so deeply human, illness, mortality and tried to turn it into a product launch.

If this is what the industry thinks truth is worth, I want no part of it. The newsroom is no longer where stories are told. It’s where they’re sold. And yesterday, the price was integrity.

Just Leave Him the Hell Alone.

I’m not an American. I’m not a Democrat (although you all know I’m progressive). But today, none of that matters. Today, it was announced that President Joe Biden has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of prostate cancer that has spread to his bones. And while the press release strikes an optimistic tone, the reality is sobering, a Gleason score of 9 out of 10, with a 5 out of 5 grade. This is an aggressive cancer. No sugar-coating it.

That hit me harder than I expected. Maybe because I’ve lived this. My dad was 82 when his prostate cancer returned. It spread to his bones, then to his brain. And while every cancer story is its own cruel chapter, what broke my heart was watching the slow erosion of a brilliant mind, a man whose sharpness, empathy, and quiet wisdom were his gifts to this world.

So maybe that’s why I’m feeling emotional. Maybe that’s why I can’t stomach the inevitable onslaught that’s coming.

Because let’s be honest: does anyone actually believe Donald Trump is going to respond to this moment with anything resembling dignity? Empathy? Respect? Or will it be another all-caps tantrum, more finger-pointing, more nonsense from a man who somehow thinks yelling louder makes him smarter?

Joe Biden is not perfect. No leader is. But he has served. And he has suffered. He has given more of himself to public life, and endured more personal loss, than most of us could bear. And whether you supported him or not, maybe just for once, we could remember he’s also a human being. A husband. A father. A grandfather. A man facing down a brutal diagnosis.

Maybe just for once, we could ask the political jackals to stand down.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being melodramatic. Maybe this is hitting close to home. But if there was ever a moment for people to show their damn humanity, this is it.

And if Trump can’t do that? Then maybe someone should finally do us all a favour and take his damn phone away.

Update: There is a post on social media from Trumps account. It is nicely worded. It doesn’t change anything that I said above.

Just seven more days and somehow we’ve gone from a hostage deal, to a 747 donation, to threats against Bruce Springsteen and now *rump as an AI rock star. Welcome back to the circus. How the hell are we supposed to survive another four years of this?

I’m sorry if this sounds like a rant, but Donald Trump is the human equivalent of an in-flight engine fire, and we’re all trapped in coach, breathing recycled air and praying someone’s still flying the plane.

He rants. He raves. He threatens Bruce Springsteen. Yes. The Boss. That’s what Trump does when someone speaks truth with integrity and guts, he throws a tantrum. I don’t know who needs to hear this but in my world you do not mess with Bruce. Bruce Springsteen has been the soundtrack of my life for over 45 years. I was listening to him before Born in the USA hit the airwaves. That voice, that grit, that honesty, it’s been with me through heartbreak, joy, hope, fear, and every hard-earned mile. And if Donald Trump thinks for a second he can scare or silence that kind of authenticity? Buddy, you couldn’t carry his mic cable.

Then there’s the 747. Not just any 747, a supposed “gift” from Qatar. A 13-year-old, barely-used Boeing 747-8, originally ordered by the Qatari royal family but never flown operationally. Now, allegedly, it’s being offered to Trump. Wrapped in crypto-scented backchannel deals, reportedly involving hostage negotiations with Hamas. If this sounds like the plot of a bad geopolitical thriller, that’s because it is, except this isn’t fiction. This is a real-life, gold-plated red flag.

I’ve spent years around planes. This? This isn’t about secure transport or public service. This is about ego. Trump wants to roll up next to Air Force One like some Bond villain-meets-Saudi influencer, just so he can say his plane is shinier. The only thing missing is a leopard-print runway and a personalized Trump jetway announcer.

And while all this chaos unfolds, Trump’s diehards are melting down over former FBI Director James Comey saying it’s time to “8-6-4-7” Trump. And now they’re screeching that 8647 is a secret code to assassinate him?

Get real. As a former restaurant owner, let me tell you what 8-6 actually means: cancel the order. Take it off the board. Maybe, if someone’s belligerent, remove them from the premises. To confirm we never really used this as it’s considered antiquated. However! That’s it. That’s all. No violence. Just you’re done here.

And yes, I want that energy. 8-6-4-7? Let’s go, folks. Cancel the chaos. Take back the menu.

Because what Trump is doing isn’t just corrupt, it’s corrosive. To democracy. To trust. To global alliances. And yes, to Canada. Every time he destabilizes the U.S., we feel the aftershocks. In trade. In defense. In diplomacy. We are not watching from a safe distance. We are strapped to the same damn fuselage.

And I swear, as I’ve said before that if one more person tells me “it’s not your country,” I might 8-6 them. (Nonviolently. Politely. Canadianly.)

So here it is: I have no patience left for those pretending this is normal.

Don’t mess with Bruce. Don’t twist restaurant lingo into a threat. And don’t expect Canadians to stay quiet while your narcissistic demagogue tries to burn down the cockpit mid-flight.

We’re not dimming the lights. We’re not buckling in quietly.
We’re 8-6ing the entire damn flight plan.

“Pipeline Politics and the Power of Principled Disagreement”

So, apparently, we’re having a controversy, and by controversy, I mean one cabinet minister voiced a cautious take on pipelines while the Prime Minister continues pushing for a coordinated, interprovincial approach. Cue the headlines about “division” and “conflict” and all the other things that make clickbait money.

Here’s what actually happened: Prime Minister Mark Carney laid out a plan to streamline infrastructure corridors across Canada, yes, including pipelines, to reduce duplication, respect the environment, and get this country building again. Then along comes Minister Steven Guilbeault, the former Minister of Environment (and longtime environmentalist), suggesting we should still be “very cautious” as we move forward.

Do I smell dysfunction? Nope. What I smell is maturity, the kind of government where not every MP or minister is a Stepford spokesperson.

Because let’s be honest: the last time everyone was in lockstep, we got the Harper era, where MPs needed written permission to speak in the House, and “debate” was code for “don’t get caught disagreeing with the boss.” Or worse, the current GOP model, where party loyalty means kissing the ring of Donald Trump no matter how unhinged, untruthful, or unconstitutional the order of the day might be.

This isn’t that. This is what happens when a government is made up of people, not puppets. When it comes to complex files like energy infrastructure, you’d want a bit of tension between environment and economy. Otherwise, it’s not a balance, it’s a bulldozer.

And let’s be honest, if there wasn’t this kind of internal discussion, we’d be accusing the Liberals of shutting down dissent. Now we’re calling it chaos when a minister brings a different lens? Come on. You can’t call it a dictatorship one week and then whine about healthy disagreement the next.

Now, let me get personal for a second: as I have mentioned before, my husband’s been an inspector in the oil and gas industry for decades. He’s technically bilingual and has worked extensively on integrity projects, including natural gas pipelines in Quebec. And if you ever want to see environmental caution in action, follow him around a Quebec pipeline site.

As he likes to (somewhat sarcastically) say: “Never a frog nor a snake shall be harmed in Quebec pipeline construction — they are gently scooped up, patted on the head, serenaded with apologies, and placed in a five-star frog relocation spa until their habitat is fully restored.”

And you know what? That kind of care matters. That’s the kind of tension between development and preservation that defines a country like Canada, not the screamfest you get in places where science is a partisan trigger word.

We also need to stop pretending pipeline policy is either “drill baby drill” or “shut it all down.” There’s a middle path, a Canadian path and it’s called responsible development. It’s called making decisions that are both pro-growth and pro-planet. And yes, it’s called having different voices at the cabinet table.

So to the people wringing their hands about Guilbeault and Carney not singing the exact same chorus, relax. This is what it looks like when adults talk things out. We need ministers who bring different perspectives to the table, especially when we’re building the very future they’ll be held accountable for.

I don’t need my government to agree on everything. I need them to listen to each other, weigh the evidence, and make the tough calls. And I trust Mark Carney, banker, economist, and no stranger to hard conversations, to be the kind of leader who welcomes that friction. He’s not scared of principled disagreement. Frankly, he’s probably bored without it.

So no, this isn’t dysfunction. This is democracy, and it’s working.

And if the worst thing that happens this week is a cabinet minister showing signs of independent thought? Well, then we’re doing a hell of a lot better than a country where the pipeline to power starts with a lie and ends with a loyalty pledge.

“Pierre Poilievre: The Leader Who Isn’t Here But Also Won’t Leave”

As much as I didn’t want to yesterday, and believe me, I really didn’t, I found myself watching the political equivalent of a soap opera villain refusing to exit stage left. Yes, I watched that press conference. You know the one. Where Pierre Poilievre, who lost both the election and his seat, stepped up to a podium like the guy who gets fired but keeps showing up to the office because his access card still works.

Let’s be clear: he’s not the leader. His party lost. He lost. Full stop. The plan is for him to run in an Alberta by-election (of course), and win, and then stage his grand resurrection tour like some sort of prairie phoenix rising from a flaming pile of misinformation. But in the meantime? We’re told that Andrew Scheer, yes, that Andrew Scheer, is technically in charge.

Now, if Scheer is the interim leader when the House is sitting, does Pierre become the leader when it’s recess? Like some kind of Halloween werewolf situation where the full moon hits and suddenly, bam, he’s back? It’s absurd. And frankly, if Scheer is your stand-in, it’s like choosing margarine when the butter’s gone bad. Still spreadable, but you don’t want it.

Yet, Poilievre persists. He took to the mic, delivered his usual soft-spoken faux-reasonableness, and got back to doing what he does best: declaring everything broken. First it was Canada. Now it’s the government. Soon, I assume, it’ll be gravity.

He attacked Carney’s cabinet like a guy who didn’t get invited to the party, so he stood outside with a megaphone yelling that the music sucks. Never mind that Carney had to manage a complex transition, balancing institutional knowledge, regional representation, gender parity, and subject-area expertise. That’s what real governance looks like. Adults in the room, even if some of them are still unpacking.

No, I don’t love every appointment. But unlike Pierre, I don’t think democracy is a stage play where the sore loser gets to keep delivering monologues while the rest of us are trying to reset the set.

And here’s what really sticks: Poilievre doesn’t even have the grace to acknowledge that Mark Carney is extending him a courtesy he absolutely doesn’t have to. Carney has said he’ll move quickly to get Pierre’s by-election underway, as soon as legally possible. He didn’t have to. By law, he could wait up to six months to call the election and then there would be the election period. But instead, he’s taking the high road, even while Pierre’s still digging the ditch.

Let’s also be clear: this by-election comes with a $2 million price tag. That’s what taxpayers are on the hook for, just so Pierre can claw his way back into relevance. And he can’t even manage a simple thank-you, or, at the very least, a week of silence while the government tries to get back to work.

And all the while, he’s still living in Stornoway. Still acting like he never left. Still pushing the same tired lines about everything being broken, except maybe his own sense of self-awareness.

Honestly, I’d have more respect for him if he just took the summer off. Go fishing. Learn to weld. Take a vow of silence. Do literally anything except hijack our national conversation with another staged rant.

Because you know what’s coming. He’ll win that by-election in Alberta, and then we’ll be treated to photo ops of him and Danielle Smith wandering through golden canola fields like the awkward leads in a low-budget rom-com. (Tagline: “Together, they’ll break the confederation and your will to live.”)

This isn’t leadership. It’s like he’s playing dressup. And we don’t need pretend politicians right now, we need grownups. Builders. People willing to make hard, boring decisions. Not more noise from someone who isn’t even in the room.

So until he gets his seat back, and makes it official, can someone please, please, just unplug his mic?

Because as Mark Carney might say (in a tone far more composed than mine): “I’m a pragmatist.” And pragmatically? The best thing Pierre Poilievre could do for Canada right now… is disappear for a bit.

Pierre Poilievre: still unelected, still uninvited, still unbelievably loud.

Okay Alberta. This isn’t just a missed meeting. It’s a warning sign.

What you’re about to read is a letter written this morning by Patricia Forrest, a proud Inuvialuit woman and a longtime Alberta resident. She’s a mother, a grandmother, a business owner, and someone I consider one of the most extraordinary human beings I know.

She doesn’t self-identify as “political.” But she is deeply aware. Deeply involved. Deeply principled. And when she sees something wrong, she speaks up, not for attention, not for drama, but because she cares. For her family. For her community. For this province.

Today, I read her letter and immediately felt clarity. I didn’t actually have this happen but I have been waiting weeks to hear from my MLA on a Health Ministry issue. Patty’s words reminded me of everything Albertans need to pay attention to right now, because what she experienced isn’t a one-off. It’s the status quo under this current UCP government.

Patty booked a meeting with her MLA, Peter Singh, a man who once came to her door and promised to put constituents first. So she had booked an appointment and taken time off work. She showed up. His office was locked. No one came. No one called. No apology. No explanation. No respect.

If this were the exception, I’d write it off. But it’s not.

This is how it works now in Alberta. Elected officials who don’t respond. Constituency offices that go dark. Decisions made behind closed doors. Premiers who silence dissent. MLAs who toe the line or get tossed aside. And all of it wrapped in a cloak of “accountability” that vanishes the second you try to hold someone to it.

And while Danielle Smith’s government courts conspiracies and whispers sweet nothings about separation, we’re not paying attention to what’s happening right here, right now: ERs are overflowing while hospitals quietly downgrade services. Kids are waiting months for assessments while their classrooms burst at the seams. Parents are paying out-of-pocket for speech therapy, mental health care, and basic educational supports. Seniors are living in facilities with staffing levels that would make your heart ache. And yes, we’re still clawing back $200 from some of the most vulnerable Albertans on AISH.

We are not being represented. We are being managed, and barely. And we need to have the courage to say: enough. Patty did. With decency, directness, and a full heart.

This isn’t just a call-out. It’s a call in, to every Albertan who’s felt ignored, condescended to, or outright erased by the very people elected to serve them.

Let Patty’s words remind us what real leadership looks like. Because if we keep excusing this, if we keep telling ourselves “it’s not that bad”, we’re going to wake up in a province we no longer recognize.

This government talks a big game about sovereignty. But sovereignty starts with serving people. And right now, they’re not even answering the damn door.

This is the first thing you see when you walk in my back door.

They whispered to her, “You cannot withstand the storm.” She whispered back, “I am the storm.

I have always felt it applies to me and clearly also to Patty.

We need to be louder. We need to be braver. We need to be the storm.

Her full letter is included below, exactly as written:

Dear Mr. Singh,
I am writing to express my disappointment and concern regarding my recent attempt to meet with you. I had scheduled an appointment through your office for this past Friday at 1:30 PM. I took time off work to attend, yet when I arrived, the office was locked, and no one was present. I waited until 2:00 PM, but no one showed up, and my calls went unanswered. I anticipated that someone from your office would have reached out to explain or reschedule, but I have yet to receive any communication.
When you came to my door during your campaign, I specifically asked where you draw the line between toeing the party line and representing your constituents. You assured me that your constituents come first. As someone who voted for you, I expect you to honor that commitment.
As a lifelong Albertan, a mother, wife, grandmother, and business owner, I am deeply concerned about the direction in which the UCP is leading our province. I, like many others, am vehemently against separation—I am a Canadian before I am an Albertan. Moreover, I strongly oppose Bills 54 and 55, and I am troubled by Premier Smith’s scandals and corruption. From her extravagant \$65-per-square-foot carpet to her clawback of \$200 from AISH recipients, from her underfunding of AHS to her trips to the U.S. to associate with far-right figures, her decisions appear to prioritize personal and partisan interests over the well-being of Albertans.
Peter, you have been entrusted to represent us. I implore you to exercise your role with integrity and stand against the willful destruction of our province. Premier Smith’s chaos and corruption have persisted for far too long. Your constituents need you to demonstrate the strength of character to oppose this harmful trajectory and to advocate for our collective interests.
This is a critical moment in our province’s and country’s history. The decisions made now will shape how future generations remember us. Please make your stand count.

With great concern,
Patricia Forrest

24 Hours to Mark Carney’s First full Cabinet: and this is my crystal ball moment (read it with that in mine and provide your own speculation.) There are rumours that this will be a smaller group of main cabinet positions with a second tier. I am uncertain how that would differ from Parliamentary secretaries. And while I have zero inside knowledge, no burner phone to the PMO, and absolutely no desire to pretend I’m a national pundit, I do have… opinions. Why? Because I’m a policy geek. I love this stuff. I read bios like novels, track riding results like some people follow playoff brackets, and try to read the temperature of a government through the personalities it chooses, not because I think I’m gifted at it, but because it matters.

And because I live in Alberta, where cabinet speculation gets buried under all the usual shouting about federalism and “not getting our fair share,” I’d like to offer a non-shouty perspective: We don’t need to overcompensate for Alberta. But we do need to include it. Thoughtfully. Strategically. Realistically. Because even though we only sent three Liberals from the Prairies, those three come with real-life experience. Let’s not waste it, or weaponize it.

So, Mark Carney has a challenge. He’s got: A 170-seat caucus, a world in geopolitical freefall, an economy demanding both ambition and restraint, a circus south of the border and a party he needs to recast without erasing. This cabinet is Carney’s first test. Not just of political skill, but of governance style.

So here’s the top portfolios with my fun but foggy crystal ball.

Finance – Anita Anand. A steady hand. A serious mind. The antidote to political theater. And if she becomes Deputy PM too? Even better.

Defense – Jean-Yves Duclos. Smart, unflappable, respected. We need NORAD upgrades and CAF reform, not swagger.

Foreign Affairs – Mélanie Joly. If Joly stays, it’s continuity with class. If not, François-Philippe Champagne maybe, charming world leaders and diplomats like it’s a speed-dating summit.

Infrastructure – Sean Fraser. He’s policy-brain meets Atlantic grit. The kind of person who could actually explain a trade corridor and make it happen.

Health – Stephanie McLean. A former member of the Alberta legislature, she was minister for the status of women and Service Alberta in the Notley NDP government.Empathy meets pragmatism. And if the provinces start budget-jousting? She won’t blink.

So how do we bring in the Prairie People: We Have a Few. Let’s Use Them Wisely. Alberta and Saskatchewan didn’t exactly pack the Liberal bench this time. But Carney has two Alberta names to work with:

Cory Hogan (Calgary Confederation) He’s a policy brain. Knows the Alberta terrain. Could be used brilliantly in Intergovernmental Affairs or Natural Resources. Wouldn’t that be something?

Eleanor Olszewski (Edmonton Centre) – Lawyer, community advocate. A possible voice on Justice or Seniors, even as a Parliamentary Secretary.

Let’s be clear: both will not be full ministers. But one or two must be elevated. This is about governability, not appeasement. And Alberta doesn’t need more excuses to throw tantrums, we need roles with teeth.

So back to the overall team. What about Crystia Freeland? Exit, Pivot, or Reinvention? She’s a force. Brilliant. Battle-tested. But undeniably linked to the Trudeau years. So what now? Exit on a high note and go global? Pivot to a quieter but still weighty portfolio, Democratic Institutions? Stay in cabinet, but off-centre? Carney can’t afford her shadow. But he also can’t ignore her strength. If she stays, it’ll be on his terms. And then there is Champagne, Still Chilled? Don’t count out François-Philippe Champagne. If Carney wants: Industry, Global Trade or a senior behind-the-scenes strategist maybe…He’s still got the charm and chops to deliver.

Rising Stars to Watch (Even If They’re Not Ministers… Yet) There are many but here are some thoughts. Taleeb Noormohamed (BC), Innovation, digital, AI. One of the smartest people in the room. Rachel Bendayan (QC), Finance-adjacent or international. Fluent, quick, strategic. Lena Metlege Diab (NS), Immigration or Justice. Atlantic strength. Pascal St-Onge (QC), Culture, labour, equity. Authentic and overdue for a bigger spotlight.

As a final thought tone will be everything. You can tell a lot about a Prime Minister by the first cabinet they build. It’s not just about region or résumé. It’s about how they want to lead, is it collaboratively (remember always collabor’action’) or top-down, cautiously or boldly, performatively or with purpose.

Mark Carney doesn’t owe anyone flash. But he does owe the country a tone reset. So yes, this is fun. It’s speculative. It’s a little nerdy. But it’s also a rare chance to see the soul of a new government take shape. And if I’m wrong about any of this? Or most of this? That’s the beauty of crystal balls. They say more about the person holding them than the future they try to see. But hey, at least mine isn’t fogged up by partisanship-well maybe a little.

This year feels different. Every year, I share a poem I wrote for my Mum decades ago. It’s simple, sentimental, and I’ve never changed a word, because it tells the truth of who she was. But today, I want to tell that truth in a different way. Not as a poem, not as a memory frozen in time, but as a living, breathing story, one that continues through me, through my sons, and now through my granddaughter.

My Mum was a character. Of that, you can be sure. While others marched for women’s lib, she was proudly “Mrs. Don McClure.” But don’t misunderstand, submissive she was not. She had her say, always. She was strong and sharp and wildly funny, and the role she most cherished was being a mother and a wife.

I never got to know her as an adult. She had a stroke when I was still a teenager, paralyzed, and left without speech. We had her with us for another ten years after that. Ten long, precious years. And while her body changed and her voice was taken, she didn’t change. Her soul, her humour, her fierce love, they were still right there.

But the world didn’t always see that. Watching people treat her as less than because of her physical disabilities was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to witness. It was like they couldn’t see the woman she still was. And that hurt, deeply. Because I could still see her. I could feel her. She was still my Mum. Still the same vibrant woman with the beehive hair, the sharp tongue, the heart as wide as the sky. Her body may have failed her, but her spirit never did.

And that too was a lesson. A painful one. But one I’ve never forgotten: never underestimate the person you think can’t speak, because sometimes, they’re the strongest voice in the room.

I wish my boys could’ve known her. I wish she could have held my granddaughter Addison. This is my first Mother’s Day as a grandmother, and my daughter-in-law’s first as a mother. But Mum is still with us. Because she shaped us.

Her laugh echoes in my memory. Her smile, so vivid I can see it still. And that beehive hairdo? Her signature. You could spot it across the Eaton’s store from a mile away. Honestly, it was like a lighthouse. She made sure you could find her.

The smells of home are still with me too. Mum rubbing Vicks on my back when I was sick. Fresh-baked cookies cooling on the counter. Clean laundry folded and stacked just so. These things might sound small, but they were enormous in what they taught me: love shows up in consistency, in care, in presence.

She had a strong sense of justice. If someone was being mistreated, she was there. She taught me early: stand up for the underdog. Speak up for what’s right, even if it makes people uncomfortable.

And speaking of uncomfortable… her honesty? Legendary. There was no sugar-coating with Mum. She told it like it really was. To everyone. Including me. She was beautiful. Not just in the way she looked, but in her joy, her loyalty, her passion for life and family. Even when her health failed, even when mobility and speech were taken from her, none of that changed her soul. Her essence, who she was, remained.

I wish I’d told her more. I wish I’d shown her more. The love, the gratitude, the way her strength carried me. I didn’t always say it. I didn’t always know how. And now, it’s too late to hear her voice in return. That kind of regret softens over time, but it never really disappears.

She was my anchor. My rock. The one place I could turn when nowhere else would do. And though she’s gone, her teachings stay with me. I use them every single day. They are my compass, my key.

And I want to take a moment for those who may not be sharing in the sweetness of today. For those whose relationships with their mothers were complicated, painful, or absent, Mother’s Day can carry a different kind of weight. I see that. I respect that. Whatever your story is, it matters. You’re allowed to feel whatever today brings.

For me, my mother was my soft place to fall. And now, I try to be that for others. Her story didn’t end with me, it continues with my sons. And now, with my granddaughter.

Oh, and about politics? She didn’t always agree with my father. And she sure wasn’t going to comply just because they shared a life together. Sometimes, she saw things a little differently, especially when it came to politicians. What a great lesson, don’t you think? That it’s okay to speak up. It’s okay to disagree. And it’s more than okay to hold your own.

To my Mum, thank you. Thank you for everything you gave me. Thank you for showing me how to love, how to fight, and how to laugh. I miss you deeply. But I carry you forward.

With love,

Nancy