Progress

Our first holiday season up north was difficult. It was our first time without any family or church community around us. It was restful and quiet, but also lonely.

Our second holiday season was better. We had adjusted to the quiet, even looked forward to it. And we were busy with a visit from LK's mom. It was good to have family around, but we wished they could all visit. It started us in realizing that we want to have people we love visit us. Someday we hope to be in a place where we are close enough to host holiday dinners.

This holiday season has been absolutely blissful- not perfect- but really, really good.

We have been very relaxed, which we all needed a lot after a super-intense fall at school. Those of us who are physically able to, slept in. We all stayed in our jammies until we felt like getting dressed. We read if we felt like it, played if we felt like it, watched tv if we felt like it, went outside if we felt like it. We treated outselves to little things that we usually denoy ourselves in daily life. We didn't do what we ought to do, but what we wanted to do (most of the time). It feels so decadent! And it has made us very refreshed.

I have not worn my watch since the last day of school. Time has become unimportant in determining what gets done. I highly recommend it for when you need to completely recharge.

I am not sure what is at the root of this wonderful holiday. It could be the fact that we were too exhausted to be uptight. Perhaps it was just necessary. I hope that at least part of it is due to some growth - I hope that LK and I are learning to be able to let go of attempting to control our world and be everything that everyone needs from us sometimes.

I hope that I can learn to do it more often, because I feel better emotionally than I have felt in years. I feel ten years younger, well maybe five.

However, physically is another matter. I also spent too much time sitting on the couch or floor, too much time eating unhealthy treats, and not enough time outside moving myself. So, it is time to get out cold weather running gear and learn to run in winter conditions. Because I really want to enjoy both the emotional health and physical health at the same time.

Now I just need to figure out how to maintain this amazing sense of well-being through the daily bustle of work...

Not Enough Emilys

I just fell in love with my husband all over again.

Yesterday I drove to the city to do our post-Christmas errands. We try very hard not to have a great big list of returns and exchanges to do after Christmas, because who wants to spend their holidays in line-ups? Not me. (In the dressing room trying on great deals is a whole other matter). Despite our best efforts, this year there were a few items that had to be dealt with before January 14. So another trip to the city had to be made.

We decided that the most efficient plan was a one-day trip with only me. That meant careful planning of stops to make sure that everything on the list could be done and still leave enough time and stamina for the drive home (3.5 hours each way in the winter).

In the list of things to do was replacing a few components of our sound system that have recently gone on the fritz. Excellent timing as all electronics are on sale this week. LK was thoughtful enough to print out the pages for each item that he needed from Future Shop's website and give me the papers to make sure that everything was very straightforward.

I went to the store and handed the papers to the salesman and badda-boom there was my pile of odds and bobs of tech stuff. Except that didn't have one item in stock. So off I went, with directions scribbled on the back of my last paper to wander across the city to the one Future Shop that did have the item in stock.

Now I know that not many people love to wander across a city in search of a store. But I am not your average bear people. I love it! Especially if my wandering takes me to a new thrift store or Winners. And it did.

The salesmen at both Future Shops were wonderful; cheerful, helpful, and went beyond their duties in carrying boxes and giving directions. I was thoroughly impressed.

So, that part of the mission was successfully completed. Other items on the lists were successfully exchanged and picked up. I had time to dive into one thrift store for over an hour and a Winners for another hour.

Armed with a list that had everything checked off, I headed home. It is a really long drive. It feels longer after a long day of errands. And even longer with the last stretch driven in the pitch dark with snow on the road. But I made it home.

My darling husband stayed up to get the new tech stuff set-up and I came down this morning to everything put together and tidied up. He also scrubbed the bathroom while I was gone.

But the icing on the cake for falling head over heels again was a book left on the table this morning (he left early to do the grocery run into town). It was a copy of the book of poems that I was reading last week by Jean Little. He had marked a poem called "Not Enough Emilys". It made me stop and smile and know that he loves me.

The poem starts like this;

"There are not enough Emilys in the world.
What I mean is... Emily is the kind of person
everybody needs to needs to have sometimes."

And guess what, this sweet, bathroom-scrubbing, poem-marking, patient man (who sat and smiled as I shared each clothing find with him - even though he really just wanted to play with his tech stuff) is mine.

How blessed am I?

Merry Christmas!

I have been such a slacker this week; sleeping in to past 8 o'clock, staying in my jammies until almost lunch, reading stacks of novels (most of the Sookie Stackhouse series last week), and eating nibbly treats whenever I feel like it. Hmmm, absolute decadence!

It has been a heavenly week, and I have been remiss in not sharing anecdotes. But I was on holidays. Holidays means doing what I want, when I want (except of course for snuggles with the Sprouts - which we never take holidays from).

So, a belated Merry Christmas to all our loved ones. I hope that you had as wonderful a Christmas as we did. Because it was Wonderful!

I have fallen asleep two nights in a row thinking about how happy I am and how incredibly blessed I feel. It is a really good way to fall asleep; I highly recommend it.

Blessings that I count for 2010 include;

• a husband that still makes my knees weak, even after almost 15 years of marriage!
• two healthy, happy, silly children who makes me smile, even when they are driving me crazy!
• family that, even though far away, I can feel close to thanks to the blessing of technology
• a home that is a safe, warm place to be especially when the weather is chilly
• a job that I love and enjoy waking up to go to every morning (and that has great holidays with my aforesaid family)
• friends near and far, old and new that bubble over with caring and love, inspiring me to do the same
• sanctification (the word of the day in the sermon yesterday) slowly, and sometimes painfully, being done in my heart and soul

What more could I ask for in life? What more is there?

As the movie title says, "Life is beautiful".

I hope that you all have hearts filled with joy at the richness of your blessings. I hope that 2011 brings an overflowing of that joy into the world around you. What a blessing that would be!

Addition Errors

We've been living here for two and a half years now. There is a lot that we still don't understand about the history of the place, the culture of the people, and the relationships of a small community. But, it is feeling more like home all the time.

Last night LK discovered a blog written by an American who came up to visit as part of a team from Christian Peacemakers. The fellow wrote several posts over the course of his visit here and it gave me a different perspective to ponder.

I must admit that I do not understand the American point of view at all. They are very willing to point out the cultural genocide that is part of our history, but fail to observe that they participated in exactly the same practices through the same time in history. I admit that the relationship that the Canadian government (and it's population - as the government are our elected officials, who we ought to be keeping accountable to behaviours that we condone) and our First Nations have is littered with broken promises and abuse. I am ashamed that this is part of the history of my country. I hope that as individuals we can develop a future that mends the wounds, because I don't see that the government will ever really work to heal those wounds.

However, it is hard to read someone from another nation write about our history without really understanding it. It bothers me that Americans so often rush to fix the problems in other places and ignore the ones in their own living rooms.

And as I type those words it occurs to me that we Canadians do exactly the same thing. How many millions of dollars have poured into Haiti, Africa, and Indonesia in response to difficulties there over the past ten years? Yet, we have communities here in our own backyard that have the same issues; no clean drinking water, no schools, no medical care.

We have our own third world that most of us are completely unaware even exists. How can we be rated consistently as one of the best countries to live in when we have members of our nation who can't count on these basics that most middle-class Canadians assume are a right of living in our nation?

It just doesn't add up for me.

Poem of the Week

One of my favourite things about having a teacher for a spouse is that we bounce ideas off each other and try things together and dialogue about what worked and what didn't. I find that I am maturing and growing as a teacher much more since he became my colleague. He is not afraid to tell me when I am spouting rather than talking. And he tells me to get off the pot when I am ranting (which I tend to do).

One thing that we have been discussing is Poetry.

I have always feared Poetry; it's rules intimidate me. I am afraid that I will teach it wrong.

But poetry has just caught my imagination.

I was searching for poems to use for Poem of the Week (which we will start in January). The idea is to seduce students into a love of poetry with fun, or silly, or poignant poems that we can play with each week. Incidentally, I also hope they will learn a bit about the musicality of words, reading fluency, and drama.

In my searching I discovered a new poet that I had never read before. (This isn't hard, as I don't make it a habit to read poetry.) She speaks with my soul-voice. Her poems are honest and real. I really like them.

Her name is Jean Little.

Bonus, she's Canadian.

Today

a poem by Jean Little

Today I will not live up to my potential.
Today I will not relate well to my peer group.
Today I will not contribute in class.
I will not volunteer one thing.
Today I will not strive to do better.
Today I will not achieve or adjust or grow enriched or get involved.
I will not put up my hand even if the teacher is wrong and I can prove it.

Today I might eat the eraser off my pencil.
I'll look at clouds.
I'll be late.
I don't think I'll wash.

I need a rest.

This poem expresses how I feel sometimes, even though I am the teacher and not the student. I know that my students feel this way sometimes. In fact, at this time of year, they feel this way a lot.

We all need a rest.

All the Trimmings

We were sitting around the table, halfway through our dinner, when there was a knock at the door. Since LK and I were wedged in the back side of the table, Fi, who was closest to the door, got up to answer.

I was expecting a neighbour who needed to borrow some eggs. Or the most gracious neighbour who often comes bearing a fresh dozen from his wife's chickens (the yummiest ever).

The person at the door asked Fi, "Is your mom or dad here?"

She came away from the door, "I don't know who it is," with big, round eyes.

So I went to the door and saw that is was the gracious neighbour, but he wasn't bearing eggs this time. He was bearing a turkey, a ham, and all the trimmings for a family Christmas dinner. My jaw dropped.

Apparently he was doing Christmas hampers for families in the community. Since we have a family here, he thought we should be included. And he reminded us that there are always eggs to share whenever we want some.

I feel as if I was just given a great big hug. It is a pretty awesome feeling.

It makes me want to be a better teacher.

Amazing what a little kindness can do.

Frosty Santa

On the way into town for church this morning we listened to a mixed CD of Christmas music. LK likes to put together mixed CDs for all seasons/situations for our listening edification. It is nice, because we spend a lot of time in the car, especially once the roads are covered with snow and ice and we have to take it much slower in order to stay out of the ditch.

Anyway, to get back on topic... we were listening to a mix of Christmas songs.

Jo somehow got it into his head that the song "Must Be Santa" was actually "Frosty Santa". So he sang along, at the top of his lungs (he is very proud of singing as a new talent and hasn't quite learned to sing in his quiet voice - actually he hasn't learned to do anything in a quiet voice), "Fro-sty Santa, Fro-sty Santa, Fro-sty Santa, Santa Claus".

Stockings All Hung

We are winging down the before-Christmas madness at school. Every school has the same madness before the holiday - kids getting more excited every day, rehearsals for concerts in every classroom, sleds on the playground, snow and snowballs everywhere. Together they all combine for a slightly manic climate in the building in the few weeks before the hoilday. It makes teachers look forward to the holiday a lot. Then we get some well deserved peace and quiet (if we don't have kids of our own).

Well, the madness can often extend to home as well. But this year we have been remarkably calm. We have also been remarkably behind. As a result there may be a few Christmas gifts that just make it to their destinations for Christmas. Hopefully none will be late!

Today is the day of finishing up the last bits and pieces before sending things off in the mail. We have been creating and writing messages and wrapping all morning. Now I am letting the cramps in my hand go away - I seem to have lost a lot of my handwriting stamina since the laptop arrived - and listening to the kids "cleaning up" after having a friend visit for the afternoon.

Unfortunately that means that I have some cleaning altercations to mediate. Plus, I am still working on teaching Fi what my definition of a clean room looks like.

Later.

Vision

Way back when a wise man said, "Without hope or vision, the people perish." It was about 4 000 years ago, or so. Somebody wrote it down, and so his words still live today. (His name may or may not have been Jeremiah).

I agree with him. I know that I thrive on the hope and vision of a future that is better. A hope that my children will find their niche and be able to work in a job that is also their passion. A vision of all children being able to counting on being fed every day and knowing for sure that they will have the chance for a great opportunity to learn in a safe place. A hope that I can be a part of making education in Canada better for students, teachers, and families.

When I get into a rut, sometimes too deep to see the vision anymore, I start to navel-gaze and focus on the small stuff. And I sweat it, majorly. (I recognize that it is an area for personal growth). I need someone who loves me to give me a shake and tell me that I need to get over myself.

Today and yesterday were a wonderful encouragement to get my gaze off my navel and look up. Because the whole picture of the possibilities for the future just changed. And I get to be a part of it!

To say that I am excited about the potential is a massive understatement. I am over-the-moon thrilled that something I hoped for is actually a real possibility. I feel like I just won the lottery.

Now I pray that my gaze will stay up towards the future because I see First Nations students closing the learning gap in northern Ontario! And that is a big, hairy, audacious goal.

Character Study

Our trapping guide is an experienced trapper with self-effacing body language and a quiet, thoughtful voice. While we were learning from him there were three instances that really struck me as telling of his character.

As we were standing on the ice and he prepared branches and traps he asked, "You know PETA?"

"Ye-es," I answered uncertainly, not sure where this might be going.

"They are actually really good. They made sure that all trapping has to be humane trapping now. Fur buyers can tell if an animal suffered when it was trapped - they struggle and their blood all goes to the surface and into the skin - and they won't buy furs from anyone who traps that way. That's good."

That was as far as he took the conversation. He made his point. He is not a man of many words.

Later, in response to three dogs that followed us out onto the ice the second day. They clearly knew that we were there to get something good and looked quite eager about the idea of leftovers. The students commented that they were afraid of the middle "ugly" one, as he barked a lot.

Our guide's response; "Yeah, that one isn't really ours. We keep trying to chase it away. But we have to feed it, because if we don't, no one else will."

And then on our last day together. He was explaining that sometimes beavers run out of food during the winter due to various reasons from changing water levels to harsher weather than usual. In that case, a beaver will find a crack in the ice, squeeze himself through it and go look for a fresh tree to chew down and strip for food. At this time the beaver is very vulnerable to predators, as his summer escape route of water is blocked by a wall of ice. He shared that his father was a trapper and always told him to leave those beaver alone, as they are already having a hard enough time of it. They don't need human predators after them, too.

His additional comment; "Usually then, I take my saw and find one of their favourite trees (aspen) and cut it down and leave it near the lodge. The next day when I come back the branches are all gone."

Each comment was made with a half-smile, as if reflecting on the craziness of this world.

And I am blessed to be a part of his community.

Beaver Tales

Yesterday my class and I were able to finish our beaver trapping experience with our patient guide. We met him over the the Trapper's Center and he had the beaver ready to go, and several previously trapped hides stretched out on drying boards.

Unfortunately we were not able to try cooking the beaver because we couldn't find the bus driver to take us to the Center in the morning. So, we had to finish our lesson in the afternoon.

However, we learned lots more about beavers and got a bonus biology lesson as our guide was quite willing to complete the whole skinning process with cleaning the beaver for eating also. This meant we got to see all the internal organs and identify them. Many of my students were even brave enough to pick them up and smell them! It was awesome to see them so curious and interested.

We hope that an elder will enjoy the beaver meat as much as we have enjoyed our experience learning about trapping beaver. If you ever get the chance, take it. It is an incredible way to understand a huge part of our Canadian history and heritage.

I have been sitting here at the computer for an hour and a half trying to distill my learning from the past four months of professional development into two pages.

Until today I was shamelessly procrastinating this assigment. I was busy with the stuff of everyday life; Christmas shopping, child-raising, neighbourliness - you know the good stuff of life. I was also busy teaching. Or trying to.

Now the deadline looms large and I have no idea how to edit my wordy self into two pages. Maybe I need a web to visualize what I learned and make connections between the different parts; classroom, course, family. Maybe I need to narrow my topic so that it is manageable.

Maybe I need to stop procrastinating.

Part II

and for the second...

I got a call from the daycare this morning right after recess. My class was lining up to head off to Native Language and I was about to start my prep, so the timing was great. However, when I went to the office, expecting Sensational Secretary to tell me that JK fell and got bumped on the head, she told me to go right over, there was an emergency.

With visions of blood and vomit running through my head, I jogged across the parking lot (as fast as my ridiculously impractical heeled boots would allow). JK was sitting on the couch in the foyer of the daycare with a teacher and another daycare worker. He was clearly stunned.

The teacher explained that he had been sitting in his chair, vacantly lolled. He didn't touch his lunch. That was huge. This boy lives for food! And he was clearly (to my mother's eyes) not himself. So, I tried to keep the massive panic that bloomed in my heart invisible, and asked exactly what they saw.

He was unresponsive to his name or touch on his cheek for several minutes. Then when the teacher picked him up he was stiff, but put his arms around her.

I racked my brain for times when I have seen or heard this behaviour and remembered a second grade students from my third year of teaching who had seizures where he just seemed to leave mentally for a bit every once in a while. He was a great kid with lots of energy and enthusiasm. I had forgotten all about his seizures, as they were quiet and rare at school. But it all came flooding back this morning.

So, with images of epilepsy and Asperger's Syndrome and frantic mental file-hunting going on in my head I asked if I should take him to the Clinic. For those who are not familiar with our situation, the nearest hospital is 80km away on a roller coaster road that is not a fun coaster in the winter. We are served by a Clinic with two nurse-practitioners on staff Monday to Friday. But they leave early on Friday to get into the office in town and finish their weekly paperwork. So, to see the nurse, we would have to hustle.

My love for our daycare provider grew again today as they quickly called the Clinic to let them know that we were on our way and helped me get JK bundled up and out the door.

I stumbled into the school office. I think that my actual words were, "I don't care what they do (my class), but I have to take JK to the Clinic. I will be back as soon as I can."

My love for my admin team grew as they just sent my off. "Don't worry. They will be fine (the class). Go." Then someone from the school made sure LK was up-dated and drove him over to the Clinic so he could be with us.

Our Fabulous Nurse-Practitioner carefully looked JK over from head to toe and assured us that he was okay. But, since it may well have been a seizure we should take him into town to get him checked thoroughly.

So, back to school. Tell the sub what to do (not sure if it made any sense to her at all - but I really didn't care what she did). Get Fi and pack her up. The whole time she kept asking, "What is a seizure?"

Home, quick grab cooler and grocery list - because they have to be done today or we have nothing to eat by Sunday - and eat lunches in the car as we drive. JK conked out for the drive. I think this scared LK and I, as we weren't sure whether that was good or bad. Fab N-P had assured us that the chances of two seizures in one day are very low. We drove him because she had already sent two patients out on the ambulance this morning, so there was no ambulance. That was okay, as we could get him there faster than waiting for the ambulance (three hours!).

After three hours in the hospital, JK is fine. We don't know for sure what it was. By the time he saw the doctor, he was back to himself mostly. That is good.

Now we watch him to see if there are any repeats. We are praying that this was a one-off. According to my research (you knew I would google it as soon as I got home), that can happen. And would you believe that many children experience seizures before age 14? Interesting.

Anyway the point is, after a long day, we learned that we have a great community here. We have some really kind nurses here and in town. Our kids are precious beyond anything. And my job, although really important to me, comes in a distant second to my family.

Thanks be to God for health and strength, community and medical care.

A Two Poster

Today is a two-post day... here is the first.

This morning my students were able to follow up our trapping lesson of yesterday with a trap checking lesson. Right after morning announcements and our spelling test we pulled on all our winter gear - very necessary today, as the temps dipped to -20 last night - and headed out onto the lake.

Our trapping guide joined us and we gathered around the first of the traps we set yesterday. He pointed out bubbles that we could see under the ice. This meant that the beaver had been around and may have sprung the trap with a stick. We were quite excited. But our guide was very calm and made sure that we knew that beavers are very smart and are quite able to spring traps without being caught. It was very likely that we only had a stick in the trap.

With our hopes low, we watched as he carefully chiseled away the ice that froze over the hole during the night (almost three inches thick in one night, brrr!) and scooped the loose ice out of the water. Then he pulled the trap out of the water and we saw...

A great big beaver! It was huge. All the students' jaws dropped. My jaw dropped. We were so tickled that we were almost dancing on the ice. Our patient trapping guide smiled at our antics. Then he showed us how to open the trap and remove the beaver, drag it across the snow on the ice to dry the water off the fur, and pull it back to the house.

That was when I realized that I really should have brought my camera, because this was a fabulous Canadian class book right here! Aaargh, I missed it. But we didn't miss the learning experience. And we still have some great connections between our experiences and the habitats unit we just finished in science and the research we are learning to do on the Internet. Educational karma, yummy!

And, as a double bonus, our wonderful guide is waiting until Monday to skin the beaver so we can go watch. We are also going to try to cook some of the meat and taste it. What an adventurous group of students I have!

My homework for the weekend is to find a recipe for beaver. Hmmm, I think that I have a Northern cookbook somewhere from my parents. I bet there is a recipe in there...

Teachable Moment

Yesterday one of the local trappers walked into my classroom before school and asked how old my students are. It seemed that he was looking for a class to invite to watch him set traps for a beaver that has set up house down at the lake in front of the school.

"Ooh, can we, can we?" was my typical response.

He graciously extended the invitation to my class and we planned to head out after morning recess today.

We walked down to the lake and, somewhat reluctantly, out on the ice. The reluctantly was because the ice is only about a week old and not very thick. But we figured that since the skidoos are on it, that we probably won't fall through. Although as a precaution we were warned not to walk all in a group, but to spread out.

So, we stood in a great big, spread-out circle around the pile of sticks sticking out of the ice that showed where the food pile was and watched as our trapper guide walked us through the process of finding the entrances, clearing out sticks and brush, setting the traps, and placing them ever-so-carefully into the water.

All the while he patiently answered a list of questions the length of both my arms.

It was wonderful to be able to sit back and learn myself, rather than be in charge of the learning for a short hour. My students were able to appreciate a member of the community for his knowledge. I was amazed at his patience and sharing of information. It was also delightful to see his gentle sense of humour!

So, as lunchtime approached and the students started to shiver, the last trap of the morning was set. We trudged back to school after asking to be able to come back tomorrow morning to help check the traps.

Now this afternoon I have tossed my lesson plans and we are going to research more about beavers so that we are better prepared to understand what we see and do tomorrow. Plus, it will be a sneaky way of getting some reading and writing practice in.

Another reason why I love my job; teachable moments for me and for my students!

Dressember

An interesting Facebook group is called Dressember. A whole group of ladies (and adventurous men?) are wearing dresses and skirts for the month of December to break out of the jeans and t-shirts rut. Hmmm. I am intrigued.

Sidebar: this is what I love about the Internet; there are people from all around the world that you can connect with and learn from. So cool!

I am in trouble if I want to participate in Dressember. I only have two dresses in my closet. Sad state of affairs that is! How can I only have two dresses? Oh yes, I live in northwestern Ontario where we have winter six months of the year. And I live in the bush. Dresses are just not really practical.

But I wear them anyway. Because practical is not my middle name. And nothing goes with a great pair of heels (boots or pumps) like a fab skirt. And I really love my heels - even in the bush.

So now the question is... to be or not to be Dressember. I happen to have worn a dress today, and yesterday, come to think of it. But that taps out my dresses. And I only have one skirt that fits decently right now. Yikes!

Better get off my backside and move it so that I can reach my goal and shop. Because I gave away all the skirts that are too big. And there is no going back.

So, Dressember will have to wait. But perhaps I shall do my own Excer-ember in pursuit of my fitness goals.

In the Kitchen

Conversation from my kitchen while making the requisite after-school hot chocolate.

Me: Jo, give your sister a little peace.

Jo: A piece of quiet?

Me: Yes.

Jo: big grin on his face, and then a silly face at his sister

I am at the tail end of my online AQ course. I am at the tail end of my energy. I am just at the tail end. Anyway, as the Christmas prep season is rolling out, it is becoming more diffucult to stay motivated and focussed on getting things done and handed in.

I am not the only one struggling; my students are also in Christmas mode. Be lunchtime today it felt like my class had been taken over by the Christmas-pod aliens. They already have sugar plums dancing in their heads, and we have three weeks to go.

Truthfully, I want the holidays to be here as much as they do. I want to sleep in and play in the snow with my kids. I want to stay in my jammies and read on the Kindle. I want to watch movies and make cookies.

However, before we get there, we have a math unit to finish, a Christmas song to learn to play on the bells (with at least one of my students missing every day), and decorations to create for the gym. Plus we have a reading strategy unit to wrap up, a social studies unit that we started today, but should have been started three weeks ago (so we are just a bit behind on that one), and an art project that just keeps dragging on.

Well, with that to-do list I really don't need to worry about planning for the next three weeks; I know exactly what I need to get done.

But first, that course assignment to finish up.

Love Again

I really love books. I mean, I REALLY LOVE BOOKS. When I move, the very first priority is a library card. It is actually a higher priority than getting Internet. Seriously. Books are serious business in our family. Three of the four of us are major bookworms; and there is lots of time for the fourth, as he is not yet reading.

So, when my dad shared the news that he had ordered a Kindle and was very excited about it's imminent arrival, I listened with keenly tuned ears. Dad was very happy. Mom is using it. In fact, this week on the phone she said, "He is reading on the Kindle right now. I am reading a real book. He left his book at work and can't wait three days to find out what happens."

So, you see, I come by my passion honestly.

And now, an early Christmas present arrived in the mail. Of course (model of restraint that I am not) it was opened on arrival. None of this wait until Christmas for me; especially when the giver already told us what was coming.

A Kindle of our own. Although, it is named Emily's Kindle right now. LK noticed that right away and pointed it out with a smirk on his face. He knew before I even opened it that this would be love at first sight.

What is not to love. Access to sooooo many books. That gives me the kind of chills that amazing shoes do. Books and shoes... my Achilles heels (stilettos, of course). And it's all tech. I do love me some tech, especially the kind that lets me carry a good story anywhere.

I was skeptical for a long time. I felt that there really wasn't anything like curling up with a book. The feel of the pages in your hands. The faint smell of ink. The sound of paper against fingers with each turn. The thrill of opening the cover for the first time. Mmmmm.

But, with the library an eighty minutes drive (now that the snow is here), and the closest Chapters more than three hours away. Well, the lure of new titles in my hands in under a minute (last night's download time). What can I say. I love efficiency too.

So, I am officially a Kindle fan. Gift certificates, anyone?

It's Snowing!

It's finally here! Winter, that is. It snowed for a good chunk of the day. Big, fat, drifty flakes that make you want to bundle up and go for a meander in it.

After we got home Jo couldn't resist, and stayed outside to play while the rest of us went in to make hot chocolate. He tromped around making footprints across the thin layer of snow in the yard and on the deck. The canoe (which should probably be put away before it gets iced in...) was carefully brushed off. He came to the door looking for his snow shovel to clear off the deck. What a great helper! That denied, he walked the deck in circles for a few minutes, moping.

With a promise that we would dig out his snow shovel after school tomorrow, he was satisfied to come inside and join the rest of us for some hot chocolate. Yum!

Almost Winter

We are waiting for the real winter weather to hit. We're ready. We've got all the winter gear ready for Sprouts and grownups. The snow tires are on the car. The canoe is pulled up from the lake. All we need is snow.

I was tickled to find a powder blue puffer-jacket in a slim-cut style at the VV boutique a few weeks ago in the city, and have been itching to get it on. It is exactly the style I have been hunting down for the past two years. More thrills at the end of a long chase!

Today was a perfect day for it. Just frosty enough to add a bit more mass to the ice creeping across the lake surface, but not really cold. The kind of weather that makes yard duty enjoyable (if you dressed for it).

Yard duty was also enjoyable because I got to watch a large group of boys in the middle grades working very cooperatively trying to build a fort in the bush. They were discussing various logs and building techniques as if they were architects and structural engineers. As I walked down the hill with two of them after the bell rang, they were commenting to me on how important it was that no little kids went in it, in case they got hurt.

What a treat to hear these boys, who often struggle for ways to relate that we adults find appropriate, having such an earnest dialogue. It is good to see this side of the students. Too often I get bogged down in dealing with behaviours. Much nicer to enjoy watching them play.

A Good Day

What is it that makes the difference between a good day and a not-so-good day?

This morning I was up early (I seem to have turn back anohour with the clock). And so althought I spent the time feeling guilty for not running, I had a really relaxed time of getting ready, for the first time... ever? It was remarkable; there was even time to wash the breakfast dishes before heading out to school and daycare. Is that what set up a good day?

Maybe it was the increased amount of sleep I have been getting for the past three nights, with Jo sleeping through the night again. What bliss to be able to stay in bed all night; no jumping up to tuck Sprouts who have lost their covers back in, or calming upset Sprouts with fevers or headaches. Is that what set up a good day?

Perhaps it was just a happy meeting of my rested mood with that of my students.

Whatever it was, it was lovely. And we laughed together today. And it felt so deliciously good to laugh with my students, and enjoy the lighter side of life.

It was such a good day that even having two yard duties didn't dull the shine. They may have polished it up a bit!

Deal or No Deal

I was doing really well in the fall with watching my food consumption and getting moving. I was loving running in the mornings, seeing the daily progression from summer to winter in plants and animal species. It was a treat to be our while the lakes steamed off their morning mists. And I felt so good; strong, healthy, glowing.

Then we moved into the twilight zone. Daylight disappeared from mornings, not to be seen until 7:00. And the treat season started. Between darkness and far too many available sweets I just stalled.

Now that Daylight Savings has come around we are back to daylight in the mornings. Unfortunately I have broken my pattern and I know that getting back into it will be hard work. Thankfully I know that I am not the only one fighting this battle. JC is slogging through the same mire of holidays (Thanksgiving, Halloween, and soon CHRISTMAS) is pursuit of the same goal.

So, with that mental company and the constant support of my DH, here we go again. To sweeten the deal without sugar, my DH has offered that I set myself a reward for the next goal; a shopping trip all by myself!

Deal!

Thrifting

thrifting (verb) to purchase previously used/loved items at a substantial discount; demonstrating astute financial prowess; recycling in a centuries-old tradition. (from the Dictionary of Emily)

There is a shopping high, and then there is a thrifting high. I am not am expert on highs, but I cannot imagine there is a more wonderful feeling than when you score an exceptinally great find. Yesterday at Value Village I hit the motherload!

Look carefully at the picture below. Note the price. A deal for a pair of jeans, even if they are well loved and worn in (how I like my weekend jeans). But look closer. Can you see the brand name?

When I noticed it I did a triple-take. Holy cow; 7 for All Mankind jeans!!! Seven bucks!!!!!

They are still a bit snug, but that is just the motivation I need to keep losing those pounds. Perfect timing, as I was slacking off recently.

Woohoo, motivation and that happy bargain finders high. What a rush!

Something Still

In case you were wondering, we are still struggling with Something. This time it's report card troubles. I just finished writing mine from scratch for the second time. You don't want to know. And I don't want to share - too painful still.

However, they are (pleasepleasepleaseplease) done and ready to hand in tomrrow. I hope (hopehopehopehope) that there aren't too many typos because I can barely see straight anymore.

Past time for bed. Good night!

A New Attitude

I used to mope when I had to stay home from school because I was sick or there was someone who needed me at home to take care of them. I felt guilty about not being at school - like I was so essential to my students and school that they couldn't get along for a day without me. (I know, a bit egocentric.)

There were times when that guilt was not entirely self-induced, I have a distinct memory of an administrator in my past telling the staff that the school could not afford substitute teachers that year and that we were not to call in sick. I am not sure what she expected us to do... but there were a lot of walking wounded that year.

I also remember calling in sick while pregnant with the smallest Sprout on the last day before the Christmas vacation. I had spent the night with my head in the John and was unable to keep anything down (not morning sickness, I think it was someting I ate). My administrator responded with, "Oh, Emily. It's the last day before the holiday." I didn't know whether to cry or punch something. I cried.

But over the past year, with daycare closures and both parents working and all the craziness that is life with two jobs and two kids (and no grandparents nearby to rescue us), my attitude has changed. I don't feel guilty anymore.

Being home with a sick Sprout is a chance to breathe myself. It is a chance to snuggle up with a Sprout who needs some TLC that often gets squeezed into a few minutes before bedtime. It is a chance to wash dishes and dust. It is a chance to get a little bit ahead on the Mount Everest of paperwork that is part of teaching. Those last two are done while said Sprout is conked out in bed of course.

Today I got to have a day with both Sprouts. Only Fi was sick. But since I had to be home anyway, we thought it would be nice for Jo to have a day home too. And it was.

And I bet my student had a nice break from me as well.

Wilty Sprout

Yesterday Fi's teacher was out sick. Twenty minutes into the day her substitute teacher brought her into my classroom with tears streaming down her cheeks (Fi, not the teacher) and snot stream out of her nose. She had a headache. Part of her problem is that she is never thirsty. We have to insist that she drinks, and it still isn't enough to keep her well hydrated. So, now she has headaches. And, she is battling a cold. Poor thing!

Yesterday she spent the day in my classroom curled up in a chair until she couldn't resist the lure of learning anymore and she quietly participated in some of the activities with my students. What a treat to see her pulled by her curiosity into the circle of students sitting at the carpet and slipping her hand up in the air as if she were always a part of the class.

In the past I have been pretty insistent that I didn't want to teach my own Sprouts. I just couldn't see how I could treat my own Sprout like their were only a student. And, how could I possibly be fair to the rest of the class when my own flesh-and-blood-Sprout was part of them? After working in the same school as my Sprout attends for the past four years, I think it will be okay.

Yesterday sealed the deal for me. Yes, I will have a different relationship with her than with the other students in the class. Yes, one student will call me "Mama" instead of "Mrs. K.". But what a unique treat to be able to spend a year with my own Sprout and get to know her learning journey as intimately as I get to know that of all my other student-Sprouts.

So, I am looking forward to next year (Lord willing) when I get to teach my Love-of-Learning Sprout. What an adventure we will have together!

Fresh Dozen

We had the most delightful surprise right after we arrived home from school this afternoon. A pick-up pulled in about 30 seconds behind us. A parent of one of LK's students hopped out with an egg carton. It was full of fresh eggs from their chickens.

When asked what he wanted for the dozen, he said nothing. What a lovely, kind thing to do!

The student had mentioned to LK a few weeks ago that they were getting chickens. LK and I have asked him about their progress since then. I had mentioned that if, at some point, they were laying more eggs than the family could eat, we would be interested in buying some.

Well, today we were brought this wonderful surprise. It was a big encouragement. And another reminder that there are some really wonderful people out here.

And, now we have a beautiful sunny afternoon ahead, and no work to do. Sounds like a good time for some hiking.

Something

On the weekend (I think) I turned to LK and said, "I think that there has been Something every single week since school started." He didn't need to ask. He knew that Something was definitely there.

Something lurking. Stealing joy. Sapping energy. Feeding into excuses for tiredness. Something that I am sick of.

How in the world do you throw it off?

The trouble is, it isn't one thing. It's Something different every week. Sometimes (well, actually often) its work stuff, and sometimes it's at home. But it's there every week.

I turned to LK tonight while we were washing dishes after supper and said, "It's not like we are Paul in Rome." But, he reminded me, we are "out there". Even though we are getting used to lots of the challenges of being here, it is still hard.

Just in case our families are worried, we are okay. We aren't Paul, and this isn't Rome. We are just two tired teachers in a challenging school situation with two amazing kids that are wonderful (if tiring) to raise trying to step forward in faith one day at a time.

And that isn't easy anywhere, in Toronto, GN, or Rome.

One Down

When I was a girl I spent time drawing dream houses. I used graph paper and diligently copied the style of 'architectural drafting' that I saw in the plans that my dad was always using for work. I had my dream house, dream barn (complete with 4 horses), and even landscaped that entire acreage of dream land that "we" would own.

I planned a spouse, who was to be neither a carpenter nor a pastor, and two children, a boy and a girl. I planned to live somewhere vaguely out of town. I planned to be a stay-at-home-mother and have playdates with my sisters and their kids, who I planned to live right down the road from.

What is the saying? Something like, "Man makes plans and God laughs." Well he sure has had some chortles over my wishful plans.

I never dreamed of moving to the biggest city in the country and falling in love with its diversity and flavour. I never planned on finding deep fulfillment in my profession. I never imagined the depth of joy that my marriage has brought. I never guessed at the wonder that having Sprouts of my own would awake in me. I never imagined living in the bush (literally) and soaking in the peace of star-filled skies and loonsong.

I love my family - adore them to bits, in fact. I am passionate about my job - perhaps to an extreme. We have a cosy house that feels like home, and even hope to own one of our own someday. The really important parts of my wishful dreams have been granted to me beyond my wildest imagination.

But the horses, the sister-down-the-road, etc. they are a distant memory of wishful thinking.

Over the years that childhood dream for sisters as neighbours has haunted me. In the past five years, it has been particularly present in the back of my mind. At first it was because I had turned to the dark side and become a city slicker (no, all Canadian do not hate Toronto). Recently because I have felt guilty for taking my kids away from their grandparents and loving aunties and uncles and cousins and such.

For year I felt like I should be and have something with my "growing up family" that I just don't have. And I have always felt like it was something wrong with me.

But I realized on the weekend that it's not me. This is the way it is supposed to be. How else could my allegiance to my husband and kids be strong enough to withstand the struggles of daily life except that I let go of the allegiances of my childhood? It is put pretty plainly in Mark 10:7-8. One set of loyalty must always trump the other.

So no more apologizing for letting go of the people who were my "growing up family". I love them. I always will, but I have left to build my own family to "grow up". My loyalty must lie with them, unwaveringly.

One personal growth issue down. Only a million more to go...

AM Inspiration

Sitting at my desk, drinking my tea, taking a few moments of quiet before the rush of the day begins - one of my favourite times of the day - and read this blog post at The Teaching Game. It reminded me of the adventures that were a regular part of life growing up in my family.

I hope that this kind of memory will be part of my kids schema as they grow up. Because school is important, but its not the most important part of raising kids. Time having adventures together is.

Have a great day!

Perspective

Last night I was sitting at my "table" (work/craft/creative/storage space for just my junk) trying to wrap my brain around the timelines and expectations for my online course. I was moments away from a complete meltdown when my DH walks by and asks why I am so stressed out.

It wasn't the course. The course was just the trigger.

We had had a staff meeting with a rebuke that was issued to the whole staff about comments on Facebook. We were reminded of school policy that we are to present a positive image to the community, and please not to air grievances about work in public. The rebuke was a reasonable one. But it got me all atwitter with anxiety.

I came home and poured over my FB comments over the past three weeks to see if anything I said was inappropriate. I considered just breaking up with FB all together. I considered deleting all 'friends' that are connected with work at all, and just maintaining my distance 'friendships'. None of them seemed like an appropriate response. Perhaps because they were all a little over-the-top. Because, really I couldn't find a comment that would lead someone to think that I was miserable working where I do. (If you disagree, please let me know, so I can address that)

So, I slept on it (something that I highly recommend when faced with a challenging choice). This morning I had a bit more perspective.

Plus LK's comment from last night, that I needed to let it go already! was true.

Now I am anxious about my blog... does it seem like I am unhappy working here?

Note to self: JUST LET IT GO ALREADY.

Happy Thanksgiving

Sometimes weekends are a welcome respite from the busy, busy, busy of the week. This weekend has been a haven of laughter and peace and fellowship after six weeks that were approaching the ulcer-inducing-stress range. It has been blissful, and there is still a whole day left in it!

We had a sleepover at camp. My new friend, Soul Sista, who is my sister-in-the-Lord and has enough of my idiosyncrasies that we could be long-lost actual sisters, invited us for a sleepover at her family's camp on Lake of the Woods. The Sprouts were a bit nervous about going somewhere new with people who they had only met briefly in church. But the lure of sleeping in a bunk bed was far stronger than the nerves.

Camp is a pair of cosy cabins, one circa 1960, when the land was first purchased, and the other added in the '90s when their family was too big to fit into one cabin. It reminds me very much of my parents' place and my sister's place. Lots of knotty pine, lots of beloved memories, and enough Canadian Shield rocks, water and sky to fill the soul with peace.

Since this weekend is possibly the warmest Thanksgiving I can remember, we sprawled on the dock with books and magazines and talked, wondering if swimming was an option. The Sprouts used a bucket of water and big paintbrushes to 'paint' the dock. LK hung out with his camera in hand and watched; observing and waiting for magic shots to unfold.

We stayed up late for a campfire and Smores. The kids slept in their bunks - Fi like a log, and Jo not-so-well (being under the weather). This morning we all went to church together. It felt like family, and it was, although not biological.

My point is that I am developing a refreshed appreciation for the ties that bind us together in Christ. There is a level of transparency that we can have with fellow believers that builds the intimacy you usually only have with people you have known for years. After several years of being outside a faith community, this blessing of fellowship is particularly sweet to me today.

So, on this Thanksgiving weekend I am deeply thankful for family. For the family that raised me; investing their hearts and souls into it. For the family that I gained when I married LK; taking on a non-Dutchie and learning, eventually, that even though I am not Dutch, I am not so bad. For the family that God has given me to raise and invest my own heart and soul in. For the family that I was adopted into through the saving work of my Lord; providing comfort, fellowship, guidance and friends in any place around the world.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my families, and all my friends. Lots of love out to you from up here in Grassy!

End Times?

Our entire administration has been away all week. They were all at a conference in Thunder Bay. That means that we had one regular office person here (I have no idea why she didn't get to go...), and that the administration job is being done by our Resource Lead Teacher.

This poor woman has no experience or training in administration, and only a few short years experience teaching one grade. She was given the role for the week, I think, because she doesn't have a classroom to run and has the most flexible schedule to deal with putting out fires. She sure has needed to be flexible, and carry a great big fire hose. But she may be forever turned off on the whole administration gig.

Last week, our dear Fearless Leader announced during the morning announcements to the whole school that he and Lady Leadership would be away all week and that the Resource Lead Teacher would be in charge. If that isn't an invitation for students to misbehave, I don't know what is.

Tuesday was pretty crazy, with many students being sent home due to off-the-charts behaviour in classrooms or taking off on their own throughout the day. LK came home and collapsed after spending the whole day managing adolescent hormone-driven behaviours in his classroom. He growled at dinnner that absolutely no learning happened that day - he spent his entire day dealing with behaviour issues. The rest of the staff spent most of our day with shut classroom doors trying to deal with students who were not behaving normally at all - to put it mildly.

Wednesday was no calmer. There were lots of fires (many metaphorical and one attempted literally) to keep our stand-in princpial running all day long. Teachers were frustrated because they couldn't find her to deal with students who needed to be dealt with, messages weren't getting through from teachers to her via the office. Her attempts to contact parents about truant students was too often met with silence on the other end of the phone line, or worse, denials of responsibility. Everyone was a bit snippy by 3:30. Well, truthfully, we were a lot snippy.

Thursday seemed to be a big improvement, until just before lunch. The bus left the school carrying a large number of primary students late in the morning, and they weren't scheduled to go on a field trip. Primary teachers were shaking there heads wondering what was going on and why suddenly a huge head lice check was happening. Even more concerning was the number of students who had head lice.

My first notice was when a staff member from the office came into class and shared that all students were being checked for head lice as there was a big infestation in the lower grades. Most lower grade students were being sent home. She would be back right after lunch to check my class.

The rules for students sent home with head lice is that they must get the lice treated and have a nurse's note to clear them to return to school. The clinic closes at 4pm during the week, and at 12 noon on Fridays. As my students were dismissed at 3:30 (they were checked too late to send another bus run home early, I guess), there wasn't a lot of time to go through the hoops before Friday morning. So, the numbers of students for Friday were looking pretty low.

Ay-yi-yi! What next?

I kad a bit of a freakout- my class is in charge of hotdog lunch tomorrow. We were going to make cupcakes to sell. Now there will be hardly any students to buy them. I already picked up the hotdogs, and have 14 dozen buns sitting in my classroom!

Then, after school Thursday, I found out that there would be no daycare Friday afternoon. It is the practice that the daycare invites families of their students to a Thanksgiving feast at noon and sends them home after that. As we were supposed to be in school until 3:30, LK and I could not participate in the feast. But we also had a pre-schooler who needed to be looked after for the afternoon. (Mental reminder to self: remember this for next year).

I figured that since I may only have one student - due to the lice scare - that it really wouldn't be that much more to just roll with it.

Then this morning students started to trickle in. Some had notes from uncles stating that they were clear, others had no note at all. A few had actually followed the rules and seen the nurse. When I asked how to handle those who who were at school without the 'proper' protocols, I was given a vague, "I guess let them stay?"

The only response I could possibly give was to smile, and go make some hotdogs.

The great thing is that my students wanted to be at school badly enough to be there despite quite substantial excuses to stay home. And they were fabulous today. They organized orders, double checked, corrected mistakes cheerfully, and were done our cooking in record time.

I have said it more than once this year - and I am sure that it will become a refrain for me - I love this class. They are a great group of kids.

But man, the chaos and insanity this week was mind boggling. Maybe it is the End Times and the Second Coming is at hand - that would explain a lot.

A Love Story

I was raised by two people who met in my mom’s kitchen in the early 1970s. Beth was living in Toronto at the time and had been asked so politely to leave university for her demonstration of entrepreneurial spirit (out of her locker on campus). Beth had a brother who had a friend who needed a place to make candles (his entrepreneurial spirit) to sell and earn a living with. The brother volunteered my mom’s kitchen, without actually asking her, and so Walter, the friend, set up his candle-making business in her kitchen. When she arrived home to a great big mess, the rest is history.

They actually dated for less than a week before deciding that this was IT, they had both found THE ONE, and moved in together for good. They are still together, minus a few bumps in the road, after 38 years.

In the next year or so, the timeline in my family tales is a bit vague, Walter and Beth read a book. It was about a community – commune-ish it seems to me – where the ideals and dreams that they hoped could be a future for humanity were being lived by a group of hippies in Northern BC. So the lovebirds sold everything they owned, bought a VW van (without the psychedelic daisies and such – this is real life, folks, not tv), and packed up to drive northwest.

Just days before leaving they found out that they were expecting. That was me.

If you have kids of your own, or grandkids, you can imagine just how excited their parents were to discover that they were going to become grandparents to a child that was going to be living on the other side of the country. But, the grandparents were already working through their issues with the fact that Beth and Walter didn’t need any government or church to give them a piece of paper to make their commitment to one another real or lasting. Their commitment spoke for itself.

If you remember the generation who raised the hippie generation, or you are part of that generation, you can appreciate that the grandparents were having a hard time with this attitude of throwing off the shackles of traditional society. But, with half the country about to be between them, this didn’t seem like a huge obstacle for Beth and Walter to deal with.

It wasn’t. There were much bigger obstacles to come on their journey.

Please note that this is based on the stories told to me over the years as I was growing up. It is loosely true - perhaps read it as historical fiction. If it makes you more comfortable, read it completely as fiction. But it might help some of you understand me a little better. I hope it will help me understand me a little better.

Baseball

I am not generally good at sports. I grew up a complete bookworm/music geek. I am pretty sure I can remember snickers from my dear sisters when I attempted to play sports in my teens.

Until I started running I never considered myself an athlete. Even now, I don't really think of myself that way. Because really, my first love; books.

This year at school, the staff are all participating in intramural sports at school. The first sport is baseball. Not exactly top of my list of fun ways to spend time. Or so I thought.

But tonight, something strange happened. I played baseball. And... I had lots of fun.

I even hit the ball a few times and score a couple of runs.

Imagine that.

City Shmitty

We just changed our Thanksgiving plans. We have been invited to have a sleepover at the "camp" of a couple we recently got to know. We have just barely met them and they have graciously invited us (with Sprouts) to a sleepover. Brave people!

We had originally planned on a weekend in the city (with requisite shopping and family outings and a car appointment thrown in for good measure). We were sort of looking forward to it, but not entirely. And then, this lovely invite. I am tickled.

After making plans on the phone this evening I let the Sprouts know what was up. As I shared that they got to sleep in a bunk bed, and ride in a boat, and have a campfire their eyes got bigger and rounder and almost popped from their heads. Now they are tickled.

So, we are looking forward to the long weekend, not because of turkey dinners with family, but because of a new relationship and a new adventure.

Definitely more fun than the city.

Stolen Minutes

I stepped outside late yesterday morning for a run after we had finished with the housework and Saturday morning chores. As I walked up the driveway and inhaled, I was inundated with fall. The leaves lying on the road range from mustard- to butter-yellow. The wind carried a touch of a bite - just enough to keep me comfortable on my run. And the smell of the decaying of summer's bounty as all the foliage slow down unto hibernation or die as their season comes to an end is unlike any other smell on earth; perhaps the only time that death smells good.

It is on these days that the sun on my skin feels particularly like a kiss - of farewell.

I realized that we are just beginning the most difficult part of the year for me. I don't generally suffer from SAD in January and February like many other Canadians. I suffer as fall drops leaves and darkness descends with them. Winter's embrace is just around the corner.

I love fall; the incredible variety of warm tones in the leaves, the edge of cold in the mornings, and the warmth of a cozy sweater all bring me joy. Hiking is at its very best this time of year, except for run-ins with bears fairly often. I just struggle with the loss of daylight. For the next month I can literally feel minutes of each day stolen away into darkness. And it will continue until the winter solstice on December 21. That is when my SAD starts to lighten and I begin to really enjoy the beauty of winter.

Hail the Conquering Hero

We received great news via Facebook last night. Fearless Leader got the all-clear from his doctor to come back to work.

When my Sprouts heard the news, they jumped up and down all around the living room and shouted, "Hooray, _______ is coming home!" Fearless Leader is much loved by Sprouts. Our Sprouts and the kids at school.

After the Sprouts were tucked safely into bed, LK and I breathed a big sigh of relief. Having Fearless Leader back at school will go a long way to making the craziness that has been the start of the school year settled into the controlled chaos that is normal school life.

(dance of happiness)

Blogging Often: Up or Down

So, according to Pioneer Woman's reflections on what she had learned about blogging, we ought to blog often. And, according to all my research (well, actually all the research that I have read - not actually done) writer's need to practice their craft every day in order to refine it.

That pretty much rings true for any craft, or sport, or skill. Use it or lose, so to speak.

Anyhow, PW (Pioneer Woman, who can be found at http://thepioneerwoman.com/, and I really recommend you check her out) also encourages bloggers to be themselves. Well, that makes sense, as being yourself is really the only way to develop a clear voice as a writer. Can you tell that I have been doing a little professional reading on teaching writing?

So, I am going to try to blog a little more often, and be a little more myself.

Some may say, "You haven't been yourself?"

No, I am pretty careful in my posts about what I say; not wanting to offend anyone who may be in my life, know the participants and be hurt.

Wait, now that I think about it, that is me.

Yup, I am a pleaser. And a perfectionist.

Not a happy combination. And a particularly unhappy combination this weekend.

I started brilliantly with a runner's high. Then I fell to bits emotionally. I got irrationally angry about the small stuff. I held on to my anger, trying to feel that it was justified. And it just wasn't.

No matter what, fighting with other people - being mad - is just not worth all the energy that it takes. And it makes me feel miserable. And petty. And miserable.

So I have spent the afternoon trying to figure out where this whole volcano of emotions is erupting from. Because there is a lot more lava (so-to-speak) in me right now than is called for by any issue that has come up in the last 24 hours.

Why the heck am I so irritable?

Moody

I had a running date with the Goddess this morning. It was probably our last one until spring. That makes me a bit sad, as our running dates are absolutely lovely. We run, we talk, we talk, we run. It is a huge help in motivating me to get by behind out of bed in the morning, and a huge help in dealing with the ups and downs of life. I came back from our run in great spirits.

But after that I slipped into one of those moods where all I want to do all day is bury my nose in a book and ignore the rest of the world. I know these are not healthy moods. I know that I should give myself a shake and do something nice for someone else, or at least for my kids. But, man, I just want to disapear into a novel with a cup of hot chocolate and a cosy sweater wrapped around me. An I did that for a chunk of the afternoon- in between mediating conflicts between the sprouts.

So, now I am frustrated with myself for letting the afternoon slip away, wallowing in avoidance of the day-to-day business of life. The bathroom didn't get cleaned. The sheets didn't get washed. The kitchen floor has not been mopped. None of my prep work for Monday is done. And the worst is that my son is frustrated at being cooped inside all day and cried himself to sleep after losing his bedtime stories.

Moods swings like this make me wonder if the bipolar gene actually skipped me after all.

Whoa Nelly!

It's Friday already? Where did the week go?

September always flies by due to the massive to-do lists that are part of starting a new school year. This year there have been a few changes at school that make time zip by even faster. The biggest change is that we have a new schedule.

To make a very long story shorter, the school day has been shuffled by 20 minutes. Those minutes were carved off the morning period and stuck into where our lunch recess was. Now lunch recess is 20 minutes, instead of 40. This is great for cold winter days where kids are in danger of frostbite. It is not so great for teachers who hope to use the washroom, make a few copies, and eat their lunch during that time. It just isn't long enough.

So, I feel like I have been running flat out every day since school started. People are already walking around the halls looking like they usually do in November. And we have our first few teachers out with the flu.

I am trying to adjust to these changes graciously. I know that the reasons behind them are good. I am just working on getting my brain and teaching rhythms to fit with them.

The biggest challenge for me is that I spent ten years teaching in small parent-run private schools where it was an eight year battle to have one period of prep time a week. (Yes, fellow teachers, I said one period a week). For some reason, persons in the business world did not agree with staff members that making a 5 hour-long presentation, 5 days a week with less than 2 hours of preparation for each presentation made for less than quality presentations. This issue has always been a BIG sticking point for me (and an emotional one - so please pardon me if I am a bit intense on this). It was part of why I couldn't stay working in that school system.

Now I am struggling to be gracious about the lunch changes. Am I being selfish in feeling that I really do work hard and deserve a lunch break as much as any other Canadian? I only want 30 minutes to eat, pee, and take a few deep breathes before jumping back in.

Switching Seasons

Every year I forget how quickly fall arrives. September is barely on the calendar when the nights turn crisp, mornings foggy, and leaves begin to blush and drop to the ground. It took me by surprise again this year. Maybe because last fall we were still enjoying the beach for a few weekends after school started. Not this year.

Today we went for a wander in town after worshipping in the Baptist church. Although it was cool enough for jeans, my hardy husband was stubborn and wore sandals. And Fiona, not to be outdone, was positive that it was warm enough for a swim. Now that she has gotten comfortable in the water, she wants to swim every chance there is.

It was blissful beyond words to wander around the waterfront in the sunshine. Exploring and going on adventures is a family pastime that we all enjoy. LK gets to shoot pictures. Jo gets to climb things. Fi learns more about natural science; she has decided to be a scientist and is absorbing everything science related that she can. I get to soak in sunshine and the joy of watching my family enjoy themselves.

So, despite the ups and downs of life around us, and life with other human beings (why are humans to difficult to get along with?) we are happy and content. God is great. Creation is a most incredibly beautiful thing. And we are blessed enough to live right in the middle of one of the most beautiful parts of it.

(Deep sigh of happiness.) I think I will go for a canoe ride now.

Roller Coasters

Monday was a top-of-the-hill day. Everyone in the family had a good first day of school. We practically bounced home (like Tigger).


But when we got home there was a phone call. The call was about our Fearless Leader, who missed the first day due to being ill. He is more than ill. He had a stroke and is facing what could be a long, slow recovery.


So, we are not quite at the top of the hill anymore. Fearless Leader has worked so hard for the past two years to set an example for all staff and students that Grassy School is a great school where real learning happens. He has been the first at school every morning; picking up garbage on the school grounds so that students would have a clean, safe place to play. He was outside every single recess on yard duty supporting staff and making sure kids were safe. He was everywhere all day, putting out fires and solving problems; the Energizer Bunny.


He has been an inspiration to remember why we are in education - for the students. It's all about them, not about us.


We have started our school year without him, and are feeling his absence. So, as I reflect on a great first week of the school year, I am saddened by the fact that Fearless Leader was not able to be here to enjoy it with us.

I am praying that he will be back with us soon, and we will all get to hear his, "Have a good day!" over the PA system.

First Day

It was the First Day today. It started out with a few kinks; a late start from home, Fearless Leader is away sick, and our Opening Assembly was cancelled.

So, with a few minutes less organizational time this morning to plan an hour more instructional time I dove in.

And is was wonderful! Wonderful!! It may have been my best First Day in six years.

All the reasons I love to teach came back to me today; the connection with kids, getting to participate in their growth, teachable moments, AHA moments, making connections with students and students making connections with learning, and the arts.

We painted with fabric paint on the first day. And I didn't have to take paint away from anyone. I didn't even have to warn anyone that I might take fabric paint away. Later on they worked independently for 20 minutes, then asked for more time to draw and write. To write! How amazing is that?

I finished the day with the same grin I started the day. But at the end of the day, it was not just an I'm excited and nervous and glad to see my students grin. I was HOLY COW I LOVE MY JOB AND AM ALREADY FALLING IN LOVE WITH MY CLASS grin.

Life is very, very good.

Running Lesson # 12

Due to the demands of family on my part, and a change in her carpool schedule for Running Goddess we are no longer able to run together mornings. I was moping this morning when the alarm went off and I had to yank myself out of bed without the lure of social intercourse. In fact, I was downright sad.

However, I did yank myself out there and was able to enjoy a good run, thanks to the motivational input from my mp3 player and some good country music. In fact, I was quite please with myself as I started walking up the last 'cool down hill'.

Then I looked up.

My what a big dog. Our usual running buddy isn't that big. I thought to myself. Oh, poop. That isn't a dog. And I froze.

You got it, a bear. Standing in the clover and chewing on lavender coloured flowers for breakfast. He didn't even notice me.

Now, there are all sorts of guides on how to deal with a face-to-face interaction with a black bear. In theory they are great. In theory I am a very brave woman. I have talked a bold, brave, brash talk for six months of running with a buddy.

In reality, standing on the road all by my lonesome, I almost peed my pants. I was scared.

In case you don't know much about black bears, they can outrun, out climb, and out wrestle the fastest, most limber, or strongest human beings on earth. We get handouts at school each spring on how to deal with a bear up close. They are serious handouts. They don't mince words about black bears. Thankfully I read them.

And those bears, they are not cuddly. They are BIG. (I don't even want to imagine how scary a grizzly would be that close.) On TV and at the zoo they look pretty small and not at all scary. 15 feet in front of you on a lonely road with no other route home, except by the bear... Well, me call a scaredy-cat if you will, but they are Intimidating.

So, this large-ish bear was minding his own business and eating his breakfast. I needed to get home for my breakfast and start the first day of school, but had to get past him to do that. I referenced my rusty-trusty memory for those helpful bearwise handouts given to all students at school last year and I tried a timid stomp with my feet.

He looked up, then went back to breakfast.

I took a deep breathe, praying that this wouldn't make him mad enough to come at me, and shouted shakily, "Go away!"

He looked up, then went back to breakfast.

The bearwise guides say to lift your shirt above your head (no, not to flash him, but to look larger) and make lots of noise. So, I repeated myself a little louder while stomping my feet, "GO Away!" I wasn't at the shirt lifting stage yet.

He looked up, then went back to breakfast. Then I started to stomp closer (no I am not suicidal, just hungry for my breakfast). He looked up, and gave a big sigh, and lumbered across the road and into the bush on the other side.

Breathing deeply a sigh of my own and watching very carefully for bushes moving, I walk up the hill.

Guess what was sitting at the top of the hill?

My running buddy dog friends. They were not interested in the bear at all. They were looking at me as if to say, "Why didn't you wait for us?" In fact, I am not even sure they noticed the bear.

"Thanks guys. Aren't you supposed to chase off the bears?"

Nobody heard me, including the dogs. They just stared.

So, the lesson in all this. Running alone can be good. And sometimes it takes a little courage. But always, it is an adventure.

Oh, and read those handouts. You never know when you will need their advice.

Prepwork

We are ready... I think. For school, that is.

Classrooms are set up. Lessons are planned. Clothes are set out for the first day. I am in the midst of making birthday cards for our classes.

It has been a very busy week and a half. Our kids have been dragged to the school day after day. They have shown remarkable patience with their parents as we try to get organized better than we did last summer.

Last summer. Oooh! That was not pretty. LK was offered a job and accepted with less than a week to go before school started. Since he had no training or experience in getting a contained classroom set up, we did it all together. It was a bit insane, and as a result I was less than prepared when the first day of school arrived.

This year is very different. LK has been working very hard to get his classroom ready independently. It is amazing to see how far he has come in just a year. Now he comes to my room to bounce ideas, but really doesn't need me. He has laid out his classroom, organized student materials, and made his plans with little input from me other than, "Yes, that sounds good." His room looks great and he has an excellent plan for his first week. This man is a natural teacher!

As a result I am much more prepared, and much more relaxed than last year. Funny, though, I still have those nervous tummy spasms that are a part of every back-to-school season. The best thing; I am getting ideas from my 'newbie' spouse on what to include in my own first week.

Movie Night

Every Saturday night in our family is movie/games night. One week we curl up with Fi and watch a movie together, and the next week it's a game played around the kitchen table. It is a time that Fiona really looks forward to each week - really the only time she has both of us to herself anymore. It also is something that is for big kids; no little brothers allowed.

Well, tonight we tried to watch "Arthur and the Invisibles", borrowed from the library. Because of a scratch the movie kept freezing and we gave up halfway through. We were all disapointed, because it was a pretty good movie. Fi had a trembling lower lip all the way up to bed.

We had decided that we really want to get the last of our debt paid off this year and were not going to splurge on luxuries, like movie rentals, etc. But there is no place in town to rent movies anymore. The only options for movies are buying, borrowing from the library, or borrowing from friends. Not a lot of our friends up here have a big library of 6-year old friendly movies. That is logical, as we are the only ones with a 6-year old.

So I am rethinking our decision not to subscribe to zip.ca. Perhaps it would be worth a basic subscription to be able to have undamaged movies and a woder choice than our small town library's small budget allows. Any experience with Zip? Any advice? Suggestions?

Looking Forward

Yesterday we had a workshop on changes to the pension plan at work, and of course it got both of us thinking about the future. Are we looking forward to our retirement? It seems like a lifetime in the future. I have trouble envisioning my life that far away, although I know very well how important it is to be preparing for it now.

There are things that I have no trouble envisioning and looking forward to right now.

I am excited about this school year. I have a small group of students, which means being able to get to know each of them very well. I have the same grade for the third year in a row, which means I have gotten comfortable with the curriculum and can start having some fun with it. And, I am starting my third year here in Grassy, which means that I have started to feel more comfortable with the community and my colleagues. All lay a foundation for a potentially fabulous year, which I am really looking forward to.

My kids have jumped into new stages in their growth. Fi took a leap in confidence and independence this summer. She now swims right out into the water (with water wings) never looking back. Last night she rode her bike without me holding on to the back for the first time. She sat so tall in her seat, just radiating pride at her accomplishment. I am looking forward to seeing what steps in confidence she takes this year in third grade.

Jo has finished the potty training journey, except for nights. We are enjoying his very responsible attention to the messages from his body, as well as the accompanying announcements, at full volume, in all places - public or private. He is very serious about where we do and do not pee; not in his very special fire fighter underwear or on George Curious (more special underwear), who would not like us to pee on him. We do pee in the potty, or off the peeing rock if we are playing outside. I am looking forward to the huge changes in him as he has his last pre-school year.

I look at my kids and wonder at how quickly they are growing up. It seems just yesterday we were bringing Fi home from the hospital (with LK driving 20km/h to protect his precious cargo). It also seems a lifetime away; I can barely remember what life was like before kids. Yet, before I know it they will be building homes of their own and I will be facing retirement.

But not today. Today I look forward to the joys of the next, and pray the I will continue to see the blessings of each day as I live them.

Comments

My dearest LK is faithful about staying up-to-date on what is happening in the world around us. He faithfully check the Globe and Mail in the mornings to check in with the world. When he reads something that he thinks I would be interested in (usually articles on education - I am not nearly as broad in my interests as he is) he sends me a link.

Yesterday I read the latest article he sent a link to. The article was discussing the EQAO testing and the fact that the Ontario Federation of Teachers is calling for the test to be looked at; is it helpful, effective, cost-effective?

Now, I should know better than to read the comments on education articles. But dialogue is such a key part of examining an idea more deeply for me. So I foolishly clicked on the comments and waded in.

That was a mistake. It seems to me that most Canadians hate teachers. At least most Canadians who comment on education articles in the Globe and Mail hate teachers. I have not read an article in the education section where the comments do not degenerate in a teacher-bashing party. It is very discouraging.

Usually I get all angry and fired up after reading the comments and want to personally email all of them and invite the walk a mile in my shoes before judging me. I want to rant about the unfairness of judging an entire profession based on a small sampling. I don't think all dentists are out to defraud me because I had one bad experience with a dentist. If I did, most people would tell my I am being ridiculous.

Why is it okay to do this with teachers?

Since I can't do that, I am learning not to take all the bashing personally, and am starting to be able to focus on the comments where people actually comment on the news, not the profession. But there were over 400 comments to wade through. Any idea how many were actually commenting on the article? Less than 100. Sad.

Between the difficulty in getting a job and the major hate-on Canadians have for our teacher, it's a miracle that there are still so many young people who want to be teachers out there.

Running Bliss

Running Goddess is home. It was absolute bliss this morning to run together.

The run itself, not so fun. I have been on vacation and so have been only doing short runs to 'maintain'. There really is no maintaining without the hills. And I had forgotten the gloriously challenging hills that are Grassy roads. So, we have a new goal, get those hill legs back.

But the talk during the run. Oh my. Let's just say that I am a social runner to the core. I love to run with company and chat. And when I can chat with someone who is funny, positive, and lets me blather on sometimes after the point has disappeared around a bend somewhere behind us, I am in heaven.

So, welcome home Running Goddess. Here's to many chatter-filled runs this year and lots of collegial dialogue. It is going to be a good year.

Laughed Until I Cried

Check out www.catalogliving.net. LK showed it to me last night and we laughed so hard we had tears streaming down our faces.

First Monday

For teachers, this time of year is New Year's. We literally start a new year every September. Today is First Monday for us, hopefully. Since I am a hopeless chat-and-visit junkie when at school with colleagues, particularly after not seeing them all summer, I need to work on getting the classroom organized and planning before my dear colleagues all arrive. That way I get my chat-and-visit fix when they arrive, all while distracting them from their work, and also am prepared for the first day of school.

Here we start a week before the traditional Canadian start of Labour Day. I don't know why, but we also are finished a week before most Canadian boards. That is very nice in June. So August 30 is the big day this year. Staff meetings starts next Monday. That means this Monday is my big starting day.

I am just waiting to find out if the hall floors have finished being waxed. For some reason they were left until the very last moment and were not done when I went to pick up mail on Friday. Hopefully they will be done today because I am getting that anxious feeling of being behind. Already.

Church Check-In

Our first Sunday back and we were glad to be able to see familiar faces in church this morning. It is exciting to go away and come back to friendly faces.

In the spring we were battling too many germs and burnout, so we took a sabbatical from church for a few months. After traveling over the past month and visiting home churches of family and friends it is good to be home.

Fi was excited to go to Sunday school, which she does not do when we are visiting. She was full of news about what the plans are for this year in the car on the way home.

Jo is in his second day of big boy underwear and was a bit stressed to be out of the house. We made sure to show him the washroom as soon as we got to church, but he didn't want to use it. Thankfully he was able to wait until we got home. He has been dry all morning after going through most of his underwear yesterday.

So on the grocery list this week; more underwear for Jo and more mouse traps since there is more mouse evidence in the laundry room again today.

All's Quiet on the Western Front

It seems the mice have either figured out where the traps are in two nights, or there were only two of them. Hmmm.

When I did my online hunt for ideas, there were several people who said that too many people underestimate the number of mice when dealing with the problem. They don't end up getting rid of them all, which leads to more mice (since the little darlings love to make more mice). I have that phrase on repeat in my mind all the time.

No new droppings anywhere that I can find this morning, though.

Ah well, me and my Javex will keep on cleaning and see what we can find. Today's agenda; moving stove and washer/dryer to clean and sterilize behind and underneath both.

On the bright side, all this cleaning is really good for my house. It doesn't usually get quite this much elbow grease. I am more of a 'good enough' housekeeper than a 'good housekeeping' housekeeper.

War Update

As of this morning: People - 2, Mice - 0.

Dead mice on my laundry room floor. Yuck! Javex is my new best friend.

Thanks to online searches I feel like a mouse expert now and have all sorts of facts tromping around in my head. They can squeeze through a hole the size of a dime. They have 5-7 babies in a litter. They can produce over 100 babies in one year. We better take care of this problem soon, before too many litters are born.

Back to the battle. More cleaning today with my friend Javex, but first a run.

The Mouse War: Episode 1

Well, our welcome home has been tempered by the discovery of new residents in our house; mice. Yuck!

We had planned a quick unpack when we arrived home last night and took extra time when we broke camp at Kakabeka Falls to have everything well organized for unpacking quickly. However, when we walked into the house we discovered that our new house guests had made free with the kitchen and left traces of their presence all over counters and floors.

So, before even unpacking the trailer we set to work cleaning and sterilizing counters and floors so we could come into our own home. Thankfully we had left all food that we opened or in paper packaging in Rubbermaid tubs with lids for the summer. But, they still managed to find enough to set up house in our house.

Today the battle was continued in the laundry room with vacuuming and scrubbing of all the shelving and all our pots and pans on the shelves. More Rubbermaid tubs have been employed to seal all dry goods up and out of reach.

We finished by setting four traps baited with bread and peanut butter for them tonight around the garbage can, which appears to be where the most traces of mouse presence are left. I hope to hear the sweet sound of SNAP! SNAP! tonight before I fall asleep.

Tomorrow the battle continues.

Home, Sweet Home

The best thing about holidays, after the relaxing and sleeping in to decadent times of the morning, is coming home and remembering all the things that make home where my heart really is. Here are a few that came to my mind as we arrived at home yesterday:

1. Sleeping in my own bed.
2. Running into people I know in town, and having them smile to see me.
3. The comfortable feeling of driving familiar roads, with little changes that make it new and wonderful to see again.
4. A brand new deck that is finished and fabulous; what a great welcome home surprise!
5. Cooking in my own kitchen, where everything is stored where it makes sense to me (or to LK), and where the groceries that I like are regularly stocked.
6. Checking books out of the library.
7. Grocery shopping in a store where I can find everything.
8. Having my full wardrobe to choose my outfit from.
9. More than four pair of shoes to wear.
10. Did I mention sleeping in my own bed!?!

And those are just a few of the things that I treasure. I could go on and on about what makes home so sweet. Travel is good. Seeing loved ones is good. Being home in my own space is great.

Touching Base

Our family and friends time is finished for another year (unless some of you are able to come our way...) and we are winding up that bittersweet last day. Bitter because we are loath to let go of our time with you. Sweet because we are eager to be our own family unit once more and head for home sweet home.

There was far too much to rehash at this time, and most of you were involved in our visits in some way. I won't blog about all of our visits except to say that we were hosted graciously by all, showered with love and affection, and felt a year's worth of family and friends all in a short few weeks. Thank you.

Now we are about to move on to the sequel section of our holiday; camping around Lake Superior. We are enjoying the luxuries of one last hotel stay tonight, wireless Internet, a hot shower right next to the bed, a real mattress that is plenty wide enough for sprawling sleepers, and breakfast served to us in the lobby when we rise and shine. So this will be my last blog until we are home again.

Tomorrow we start a trip around the Lake with stops at three provincial parks and exploring Thunder Bay. We are looking forward to a real run with the COW and plan to be experts at camp setup and teardown by this time next week.

With hopes of sunny skies, lots of trails for running, and cosy campfires; see you all when I get home.

Trailer Talk

In the spring we were the astonished, and very grateful, recipients of a used pop-up trailer. Parents of dear friends were clearing out their garage and were looking for a new home for their camper; used as our friends was growing up, but not needed anymore in that family. So, we gladly have adopted "The Cabin on Wheels", or COW, as our own summer home.

Today was largely spent working on outfitting the COW for our travels across the rest of southern Ontario. I was tickled to find sheets and pillow cases, plus a 100% wool blanket in the colours of the COW (a lovely combo of 1983 camping olive green, beige, mustard yellow, black, and brown). Base bedding totalled $12-. I love Value Village!

Sleeping bags were not quite so cheap, but we have shivered our way through two summers of camping with only sleeping bag liners as our summer bags and are unwilling to take the risk of another summer with lack of sleep due to cold. Despite the very warm temps in the sunny south this July, I am determined that we will be warm in any instance. We did end up with good quality bags, on sale (of course), and in matching red and black (of course). I am pleased.

Bedding with the only really big item that we had not already organized for camping that wasn't transferable to the COW, so it looks like the inside is almost ready to move into. The outside is LK's project.

I already knew that my darling spouse was a serious 'curb appeal' guy. He faithfully mows all our lawns, shovels drives within moments of snow starting, and clips the bush overhanging the driveway to ensure that there is clear visibility as well as a tidy appearance as you arrive at home. All this in a home we rent, and where there are no condo rules.

However, he is approaching the COW as his own little home. So, he sprayed the canvas today and has the paint ready to scrape and repaint the bumper as well as repairing the few tiny nicks in the white stuff that protects the outside. It is clear that I really have the inside and making it into a cosy nest in my mind, and LK has making the outside look smashing in his.

What a great team!

A Quick Link

While prepping for the trip I went through the usual wardrobe stress and spent a bunch of time hunting down inspiration and ideas online (where most of my inspiration for most things comes from these days). In my travels across the Web I discovered this great site for those interested in fashion. Check it out; www.youlookfab.com. I love her point of view and the fact that she posts lots of ideas often. The Brit perspective is also a refreshing change from being inundated with American ideas.