Nancy's Notes

It’s Sunday morning, after a hell of a week. A week where I’ve been juggling more than one family medical crisis, not minor ones, and doing it the way I’ve learned to survive: research, investigate, organize, deploy. Keep the exterior calm, keep the machinery running, don’t let the cracks show. People tell me, “If I didn’t know you were telling the truth, I wouldn’t believe it.” And I understand why. But inside, I’m barely holding the seams together.

And I think that’s exactly where the world is right now. We are moving through events that should be shaking us to our core, but instead we’re treating them like background noise. We’ve normalized chaos.

Look at this week alone. A war criminal who cannot set foot in most of the world without risking arrest is being welcomed into the United States for a meeting with Donald Trump in Alaska on Friday. Let’s not kid ourselves, Vladimir Putin is not flying across the globe to “negotiate peace.” He’s told us outright, in conversations like the one with Steve Witkoff, that his goal is total control of Ukraine. Full stop. And Trump? Trump has no cards here. Putin thinks he’s a fool, and he’ll play him accordingly.

Then there’s Israel, officially deciding to take over Gaza, as if annexation will magically erase decades of conflict and humanitarian crisis. The silence from the President of the United States on this is deafening.

And here in Canada, we need to understand something uncomfortable: we are a vulnerable country. To the United States, we are what Ukraine is to Russia. Donald Trump has already told us, in his own words, that he’s doing everything he promised he would do. If one of those promises was about controlling Canada’s future, why wouldn’t we take him at his word? If you want to call that fear-mongering, fine. But reality doesn’t care about our comfort zone.

Not in a generation have we seen the kind of instability we’re facing now. And unfortunately, we are removed from the people Tom Brokaw called “The Greatest Generation”, our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents who defended democracy through both the First and Second World Wars. They’d lived through depression, dictatorship, and the real possibility of losing their freedoms. They knew what was at stake, and they acted like it. I’m not sure we’re ready for what’s coming, and that scares me more than the crises themselves.

Because make no mistake, we are in it. And most people are walking through it half-asleep. I understand the need for balance, to protect our own lives, our own communities, the things we can control. But numbness is not resilience. We are in a live situation with stakes that can’t be overstated, and too many people are treating it like tomorrow’s problem. So for Canada in this story? I remain committed to giving Mark Carney the room to navigate this without making a fatal move. I understand the people asking, “But what is he actually doing?” My answer: if you’re skeptical about Carney’s capability, tell me, IN DETAIL what you think Pierre Poilievre would be doing differently right now. And then ask yourself if that answer makes you feel safer.

Because this is not a time for hollow slogans. This is a time for plans. For strategy. For leaders who don’t flinch under pressure. Some are doing as I described above. Researching, investigating, organizing, and then they deploy. I’ve learned in my personal life that functioning under pressure doesn’t mean you’re unaffected, it means you keep moving because stopping isn’t an option.

Canada is remaining calm and our leadership is speaking out. But much of the world is not doing the same thing right now. I prefer someone steering the boat calmly toward a destination to someone drifting blind until they’re smashed apart on the rocks. Because by the time some realize it, there won’t be enough pieces left to put back together. I still believe PM Carney is watching the weather and navigating his route carefully. These are defining moments for our world.

This one’s a little different than what I usually write but it’s been on my mind, and maybe it’s been on yours too.

In the past few weeks, I’ve had more than a few people reach out, asking the same thing: “What can we do? How do we push back when so much feels out of our hands?” My answer is this: Do what you can, where you are, with what you’ve got. For me, it’s writing. But it’s also being intentional with my wallet. Every dollar is a choice. And right now, those choices matter more than ever.

When Trump started spewing garbage about Canada being the “51st state,” and the tariff threats rolled back in, we had a moment of clarity. Canadians started rallying to support each other. Buying local. Choosing Canadian. Showing up for small businesses. It was fierce. It was patriotic. It was hopeful. But lately I feel like it’s faded.

Summer’s here. Canadian produce is everywhere. Farmers’ markets are full. And there are small non CUSMA industries making some great products. And yet, just yesterday, I caught myself about to click “Buy Now” on Amazon. I stopped myself. What the hell am I doing?

This isn’t about guilt. It’s about attention. Awareness. Intention. We’re not powerless, but we do need to be reminded. We need to recommit to buying Canadian first, not just for pride, but for our future. The next CUSMA review is coming, and it won’t be friendly. We’re dealing with a U.S. government that’s perfectly comfortable slapping tariffs on our industries while treating Canada like a trade afterthought. If we don’t push back with purpose, we’ll pay for it in lost jobs, shuttered businesses, and even more dependency. Trump intends to win using economic power. Our governments (most) are doing what they can to negotiate and help. Note Danielle Smith receives the ‘non’ participation award.

We won’t get it perfect. Some things just aren’t made here. Some people don’t have the financial flexibility to spend extra. And that’s okay. It’s not about purity, it’s about participation. If you can only shift 25% of your habits, that’s still a shift.

The other day, I sampled a grainy mustard from a family farm in southern Alberta. The farmer himself was doing the demo. It was a dollar more than what I’d usually spend and I almost walked away. But it was damn good. And I realized in that moment that this is what matters. Real people, real products and real community. I bought two jars. It felt like something small that actually mattered.

Same with coffee. I’ve swapped out the big brands for Three Sisters, a roaster out of BC that’s now my favourite. That wasn’t just about nationalism, it was just good coffee. But now it’s also about choosing home first.

I’ve cancelled cable, too. Tired of paying into a media machine dominated by U.S. networks that filter everything through their political noise. I’ll figure out my news another way. But I won’t keep funding a system that doesn’t care about my country unless it’s looking for leverage. And I’m saying no to U.S. travel.That’s not bitterness. It’s boundaries.

Luckily, we have options. We have trade partnerships with Mexico and the EU that give us access to excellent products, often with higher labour or environmental standards than the ones we’re importing from the States. If we have to look elsewhere, look there.

So if you’re asking what you can do, start here: Revisit the apps and websites that help identify Canadian-made goods. Ask your grocery store where their products come from and tell them why you care. Choose local when you can. Even once in a while makes a difference. Shop at a farmer’s market. Pick Alberta beef or Manitoba pork. Grab Ontario wine, Alberta mead and honey or Okanagan fruit. If you’re reaching for any product, check if there’s a domestic one nearby. If not, maybe Mexico or Europe instead of the U.S. We don’t have to do everything. But we do have to do something.

This isn’t a one-time blip. It’s a new normal. It’s going to take vigilance, not just passion. We rallied once. We need to rally again. With intention. With consistency. And with clarity about what’s at stake.

So no, I can’t fix the global trade system from my kitchen table.

But I can choose what lettuce I buy. I can choose what coffee I drink. I can write this. And if you’re reading it, maybe you’ll choose something different today too. I’m not just done buying American. I’m done sleepwalking. And if that makes me one jar of mustard closer to a more resilient Canada I’ll take it.

Last night, Donald Trump signed the executive order.

We knew it was coming. We’ve been circling this moment for days. And he made it official: tariffs on Canadian imports, those not covered under CUSMA, are now 35%, up from 25%.

Sounds dramatic. And it is. But before anyone spirals, let’s get something clear. Between 80% and 90% of our exports are CUSMA-compliant, which means they’re still crossing the border tariff-free. Some sources suggest the number could be as high as 90% and I hope that’s the case. But I’ve chosen to use the 80% figure to be cautious and not overstate the protection CUSMA offers. There are still a significant number of businesses, especially smaller ones, that either don’t meet the origin requirements or don’t have the capacity to navigate the complex paperwork needed for certification. So while the majority of our trade is covered, I think it’s important not to gloss over the vulnerable share that isn’t.That matters. Trump wants this to feel like a full shutdown. It’s not.

The approximately 20% that just got hit? That’s often small and mid-sized businesses who either don’t meet the complex “rules of origin,” or haven’t been able to file the mountain of paperwork to prove they do. Global supply chains. Raw materials. Unfinished parts. It’s not nothing. But it’s not everything either.

And yet, even with all that said, that’s not the headline. The real concern remains the sectoral tariffs that haven’t moved such as lumber, autos, steel and aluminum, autos. That’s where the real pain is. That’s where entire towns such as Quesnel, Windsor, Hamilton, Trois-Rivières and Nackawic hang in the balance. And those sectors remain under siege.

Trump again tried to justify this latest hit by blaming fentanyl and Canadian “inaction”, which is laughable, if it weren’t so reckless. Canada accounts for 1% of fentanyl entering the U.S. And Carney’s government has already been investing heavily in border enforcement, drug interdiction, aerial surveillance, and the toughest border legislation in our history.

So no, this isn’t about fentanyl, or dairy or fairness. It’s about power, control amd performance. And it’s personal. That much is crystal clear.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m just repeating myself. Saying the same thing over and over again. And maybe I am. But then I remind myself that this is exactly why I have to keep saying it. Because this isn’t about scoring points. It’s about protecting truth in a storm of lies. It’s about telling the story before someone else rewrites it for us.

I stayed up late, flipping channels, listening to the analysts, the trade experts, the chaos. And somewhere in that mess, I heard a quiet comment that stuck with me: a researcher compared Canada to the Doozers from Fraggle Rock, those tiny green builders who kept constructing while the Fraggles tore everything down. That’s us right now. We build. Quietly. Relentlessly. No matter who’s smashing the walls around us.

And just before I went to bed, Prime Minister Mark Carney released a statement, and to be blunt, it echoed exactly what I’ve been thinking, “While the Canadian government is disappointed by this action, we remain committed to CUSMA… The U.S. average tariff rate on Canadian goods remains one of the lowest for all its trading partners. For each impacted sector, the Canadian government will act to protect Canadian jobs, invest in our industrial competitiveness, buy Canadian and diversify our export markets.”

This is the tone I needed to hear. Not panic just a focus on being intentional. Carney didn’t match Trump’s bluster. He focused on what we can control. Things such as cutting interprovincial trade barriers, investing in national infrastructure, using Canadian workers and resources, and becoming our own best customer.

And then this line. We need to keep this front and centre. “We can give ourselves more than any foreign government can ever take away.”

The timing of a Canadian offensive, if one is even needed, is still to be determined. But let’s not forget that we have tools. We have leverage. From reciprocal tariffs to the natural resources the U.S. depends on, to the American bonds that we hold. There are many forms of pressure we’ve yet to apply. We don’t fight recklessly, we fight with strategy, discipline, and purpose. And that means knowing when to act, and when to hold.

There’s your contrast. One man weaponizes policy like a tantrum. Another leans into building a country that doesn’t flinch.

So to simplify here’s where we stand. 80% of Canadian trade remains protected under CUSMA, 20% just got squeezed harder especially for smaller firms, sectoral tariffs are still the real crisis and once again Trump is spiraling, lying, blaming, and inflating.

And Canada? We’re building. With purpose. With partners. With grit.

I didn’t set out to write every day. I didn’t plan on logging this much road. But if even one person feels a little more grounded, a little more informed from what I share then it’s worth it. The crack in the road may widen but so will our resolve.

Canada Strong and Free!

August 1st is coming and its tense. Canadians, and Canadian businesses are nervous. That’s understandable. But nervous doesn’t mean panicked, and it certainly doesn’t mean acting stupidly. What we need now is belief. Belief in what we have. Belief in who we are. Belief in the strength that has always shown up when we’ve needed it most.

That’s a quote, or at least the spirit of one, from Arlene Dickinson. And when she speaks, a lot of us in this country listen. She’s not just a Dragon’s Den celebrity, she’s a business leader who understands Canada, and the mindset of people trying to make a living through ups and downs, pressure and politics.

I share that perspective. And as we stare down the barrel of Trump’s tariff threat deadline, we need to remember who we are, and who we’re not. Because here’s what we are not: We’re not weak. We’re not reckless. And we’re not going to be bullied into bad deals just because someone else signed a press release and called it a win.

Before we get into the weeds, let’s consider this. What happens if the outcome isn’t what we like? What if the announcement is performative or one-sided or vague? Because here’s what people forget. The vast majority of what we’ll hear will be unilateral impositions by Donald Trump. They’re not “deals.” They’re dictates. They’re done to appear like diplomacy. And that distinction matters.

Now, I’m not a global economist or a geopolitical strategist. I’m not inside Mark Carney’s brain. But I do trust one thing and that’s his focus. Every time he speaks about these talks, it’s clear: he’s focused on getting the best deal for Canada. Not a deal for a photo op. Not a deal to please a TV audience. A deal that benefits us and holds up over time.

I’ve spent the last few days digging into the so-called “agreements” Trump has touted with Japan, the EU, and the UK. And let me be blunt: I’m not impressed. Let’s start with Japan. It is vague at best. It reads more like a framework than an actual agreement. There are few hard targets, no enforcement mechanism, and no timeline. So how do you even know if it’s real? You don’t. It’s Trump-style diplomacy: big on bluster, short on detail, and designed for the optics. The EU? Even more complicated. Yes, it’s a bloc, but every single one of its 27 member countries must ratify any final agreement. I can’t imagine France’s François Bayrou agreeing to anything without climate considerations or Hungary’s Viktor Orbán deciding to be compliant. They can block it. And if just one country doesn’t sign off? It collapses. So let’s not pretend this is a done deal.

And Ursula von der Leyen. Sitting there while Trump ranted about windmills and not a word. Just a polite nod. That told me all I needed to know. That moment wasn’t about policy it was about playing the game to keep Trump happy.

Now back to Canada, because that’s what really matters here. Mark Carney is not going to walk into a room and agree to something he knows we can’t deliver on. That’s not the kind of leadership we need, and thankfully, it’s not the kind we have. But that won’t stop the critics. They’ll say, “Why can’t we do what Japan did?” or “Why didn’t we sign like the EU?” Well because those weren’t real deals. And this isn’t pretend.

So while Trump stands on podiums making grand declarations, Carney is working behind the scenes on trade corridors, supply chains, and logistics frameworks that will make Canada stronger, not just now, but for generations. That’s not part of Trump’s thought process. That’s not even on his radar. For him, it’s all about spectacle. It agitates me, genuinely, that we’re even comparing a thoughtful, long-term economic strategy to this showboating nonsense. We need to stop pretending these things are equal.

We don’t know what the outcome will be on August 1st. But I do know this: whatever gets announced, read it twice. Because the truth is usually hiding behind the fireworks. And if it costs me a little more, in the short term, to support a process that protects my kids’ future and Canada’s long-term interests, then I’m okay with that.

Because belief isn’t just a feeling. It’s a choice. And today, I choose to believe in Canada. And maybe it’s fitting that the image here is the Peace Arch, that quiet border crossing between British Columbia, and Washington. The monument itself was built in 1921 to celebrate the longest undefended border in the world, a symbol of friendship and cooperation between two nations who have stood side by side in war, trade, and peace. Etched into that arch is the inscription: “Children of a common mother.” and on one of the gates the powerful words, “May these gates never be closed.” You can’t look at those words today without feeling a knot in your throat. Because while the border may still be open, the spirit behind those words feels fragile. Strained. At risk. And that, right there, is the tragedy.

So no, this isn’t just about economics. It’s about sovereignty. It’s about decency. It’s about the kind of country we want to be, and the kind of country we want to leave for those coming after us. So while connection between our countries may never be the same economically, I will hold on to the hope that those gates never close.

Trump’s suddenly a compassion filled humanitarian? Please pass the barf bag. I am disgusted.

What better way to dodge the Epstein spotlight than to suddenly slap on a halo and pretend you’re a saint? Give me a break. In the past 24 hours, Donald Trump has magically rebranded himself from chaos agent to humanitarian-in-chief. We’re now meant to believe he’s deeply concerned about starving children in Gaza. Please don’t forget that this is the same man who dismantled U.S. contributions to global food aid and let warehouses full of emergency supplies rot under his watch. He undermined international relief systems, and we’re expected to buy his wide-eyed concern for the suffering?

He says he’s sent $60 million in food support last week, but of course, adds that it’s “being stolen.” Yes Trump. Leave a backdoor out.

Then there’s his whiplash-inducing shift on Russia. Suddenly, if Putin doesn’t shape up, he says he’ll impose tariffs and sanctions in 10 to 12 days. Why not 14? That’s usually his favourite magical time frame to kick the can. But no, this one’s “10 or 12,” because well there’s reasons. Because vague is the game when you have no plan.

And now this morning, he’s sitting with UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer like some elder statesman of peace and compassion. A man who once said he’d bomb civilians, now wants credit for caring? The same man who tried to shake down Ukraine for dirt, now cloaks himself in concern for their suffering?

And then, surprise surprise, out comes what I’ll refer to as the ‘God card.’ I wouldn’t be surprised if next week we get a carefully staged photo of him clutching a Bible, again, upside down, standing outside a burned-out aid truck.

You can almost picture this scene: Trump, pacing, saying to his loyal contingent as they brief him that the Epstein files case is heating up further, “My best shot is if they think I am concerned about starving children. People will forgive when they see me stepping up.”

That’s what this is. Not a change of heart. A change of strategy. An image rehab tour disguised as moral awakening. Because here’s the truth: the Epstein case isn’t going away. His name is being whispered in the halls of Congress, screamed on podcasts, and sprayed across conspiracy-laden timelines. Trump’s proximity to that fire is real. And like any cornered animal, he’s doing what he does best distracting, deflecting, and inventing a new storyline to survive the moment.

So no, I’m not saying don’t welcome food aid or pressure on Russia. By all means, let the man throw us a bone if it gets results. But let’s not pretend we’re watching a redemption arc. This isn’t rebirth. It’s repackaging.

The core of the man hasn’t changed. He’s not Moses parting the Red Sea. He’s just trying to drain the swamp of headlines with his own crocodile tears.

Today’s soft-focus messiah routine is just the latest act in the show. Because if the press and the public start to believe he’s suddenly found empathy, maybe, just maybe, they’ll forget that his name keeps surfacing in one of the darkest scandals of the century.

Don’t be fooled by this charlatan. This isn’t compassion, it’s camouflage. A man doesn’t grow a heart overnight. He just grows more desperate. I am definitely not fooled but am grateful for aid that will come from the American people. Today’s tearful saviour is tomorrow’s tantrum thrower. And he knows that if he doesn’t sell this “Compassion Trump” character well enough? Epstein stays on the menu.