Update (About Time, Too)

For some reason this September feels like we just moved here and are dealing with the learning curve all over again.  So many changes at school with new staff and new 'stuff' (resources/programs/ assessments up the whazoo).  And on top of it, there are some nasty germs moved into our house.  LK is sick with an unpleasant stomache flu.  The Sprouts have been coughing that loud rattley cough all night for a week.  Blech!

On the bright side, the road to town, which has been under construction all summer, is finished.  Hooray!  Now I don't dread the drive into town.  We have been avoiding any non-essential trips to town at all costs for the past two months.  It has made for an isolated time.  We have felt the remoteness of where we live quite keenly.

Losing the Battle

The Terry Fox Run was run this morning all across Canada.  On the 28th our school will join schools across the country to run in what has become a Canadian annual statement of hope.  I don't have many heroes, but Terry Fox definitely qualifies as one for me.  His determination and fierce defiance of the odds can teach all of us a huge lesson about changing the world. 

The battle against cancer has never been personal for me.  I know people who have battled cancer.  We all do.  But it hasn't been personal.

Now it is. And this year the run means much more to me. 

I have an uncle who has battled cancer for over a year now.  He was recently told that he is losing the battle.  Since then my parents, aunts, and sisters have been working hard to provide the support he needs to end his time on earth in peace and with dignity.  The heaviest load has fallen on my youngest sister, who is able to get along with anyone, loves to serve others, and has stamina to make a marathoner blush.  It has been a hard time for my parents as the news about the cancer winning the battle came just shortly after they moved up here, 2,000km away from said uncle.

Now it seems that the final days are here and my folks need to say goodbye.  So, they are working to organize their time down south to enjoy a last few days with my uncle.  Prayers would be much appreciated that this visit would be a rich blessing not only for my uncle, but also for all those who are close to him and who are saying goodbye.

And if you ran today, or are running with your students or class on the 28th... please think of those who had to fight the battle before Terry's dream came true and cancer is no longer the victor.  And if you can only support this dream through making a financial donation, please be generous.  Only with all Canadians striving together can Terry's dream come true.

Taking the Plunge

For more than five years now I have wanted to take the plunge and step outside my conservative pearls and French twist fashion identity with something substantial. Not that pearls and a French twist are bad. I just have been ready for a change.

Both body piercings and tattoos have been issues of interest for me since I was in my teens, but both were somewhat taboo as I grew up. My parents were never big fans. They never out and out banned either, but there were discussions about the permanence; what will that tattoo look like on saggy 70-year old shoulders rather than on svelte 20-year old shoulders. What is the health impact of that ink permanently inserted into your body? Will a body piercing be limiting to career choices? Will I hate it and be stuck with a hole in my nose/lip/eyebrow? Plus there were discussions about whether tattoos and body piercings were honouring our bodies as images of God (no clear answer in those discussions, just lots of questions, opinions and discussion).

In the past five years I have observed the impact of multiculturalism on both piercings and tattoos. Both are increasingly visible in Canadian women. My favourite is the nose stud that Indian women often sport. They are timeless and regal. But often those wearing them are young or in careers that are less conservative than mine. So I have restrained my impulses thinking that I was too old and in a job where it would be offensive.

However, this past year I have met two women in education with nose piercings. And then two weeks ago I ran into a lady leaving a coffee shop in town who was most definitely older than me. She had a nose piercing. It looked great on her face. I stopped her and asked about it. She has had it for 10 years and never regretted it.

So, today in town I took the plunge. I am the proud new owner of a little sparkler in my nose. And you know what? I think that it will look great with a French twist and a fab pair of heels. I might lose the pearls permanently, though.

Opening Celebrations

The opening powwow and feast are a celebration of a new school year. Each year they are a bit different. This year was the very best emotional tone for me of all those we have attended here.

I was proud of my class's behavior today. Although it was very hard for my antsy boys to be quiet and respectful while an elder opened, they were (for the most part) very quiet and respectful. After being told that they expectation at powwow was dance or watch, they all chose to do one of those. None of them complained or moaned about the heat or wanting to go play outside. And many of them danced.

I was also proud of the young men that participated from the community. Two high school students participated in the dancing as role models for the younger ones. They lead specials and called dancers in for other specials. Two others were a part of the drumming group leading the dancing. Many high school students served food carefully and faithfully, serving elders first with quiet deference.

I was really glad to be able to share the beauty of this amazing place and people today. I am richly blessed because of them.

A Lift

After my own class had all run off to catch the bus after school yesterday, one of the girls from my last year's class walked into the room.

"Hi Mrs. K. Can I visit for a few minutes?"

It lifted my spirits.

It was just a short chat with light questions about how she is adjusting to a new grade. It felt really wonderful, though to have a student want to connect for a minute.

I love my job.

Two Pops

Friday was hot dog day. For Jo is was his first hot dog day. He likes hot dogs, so I packed snacks in his lunch and a toonie for a hot dog and a bag of chips. Instead he came home with a barely opened can of iced tea. After recovering from my conniption over his not purchasing what I wanted him to (let go of those apron strings, Em) I watched him spend the entire afternoon sipping from the can of "pop". He was thrilled that he was actually able to drink "pop". (We don't generally stock it in our pantry).

This morning on the way to school he stated, out of the blue, "There are two pops. Pop the man and pop the can."

LK and I looked at each other, laughed out loud (which pleased Jo to no end), and celebrated his delightful sense of humour.

Pop the man is my dad. We call him Pop (as in Grandpop).

Pop the can... well, you are smart enough to get that one on your own.