Mooooovie night!

See? This is how committed I am to NaBloPoMo. I'm not even at HOME and I'm posting, cause really? To skip the last day would be LAME. So, hooray! I made it! 30 posts (ok, more than that) in 30 days, all (ok, most - challenge me, I'll tell you how it relates!) around the theme of home!

Aaaaand, now I'm gonna go watch a sappy chick flick with Strudel! Woohoo!

The packing process

Five years of teaching stuff + a whole lot of inherited stuff + stuff not yet dealt with from a recently-finished school year = one very giant mess of stuff requiring a day and a half next week to finish packing up. Wow.

Click any photo to embiggen (that's for you, Katrina! ;) ).





*Sigh* I liked it better when it was full of the anticipation of a new year ( <--- click for newly posted pics), not the sadness of goodbyes...

SO blessed

See these three people? They have SAVED MY LIFE. And they are AWESOME. And selfless and wonderful and helpful and fun and did I mention AWESOME?

I emailed a few friends to see if anyone would possibly be interested in helping me pack up my classroom one evening this week. I kinda didn't expect anyone to reply, cause, hello? Not exactly the funnest proposition in the whole wide world. But Harrison and Hary (Harrison, Hary, and Hillary! Hugo was gonna come, too, but was tied up. Shucks! We coulda been the 4-H club! hehe!) both volunteered and came to my classroom on Monday to help me sort, file, take down posters, get kids work ready to hand back, etc etc etc. Between the two of them, they spent SIX HOURS helping me get all kinds of work finished. They BLEW me away, and I am SO grateful for their help. They did SO. MUCH. WORK.

And then today after school, I was in the hallway and heard my phone ringing, so I ran in to grab it and it was Jenn. She told me that she had seen my Facebook status (Hillary is packing, packing, packing, and starting to say her goodbyes at the school she's loved for the last five years...), and knew that if SHE was packing up, she'd want some help, and did I want her to come by and help out for a few hours. !!!!!! I was so touched! AND, she brought me a frappucino!

Seriously, I would NOT have been able to get everything done by the end of this week if it hadn't have been for them. It just simply wouldn't. have. happened (it hasn't totally happened yet, but it's possible now because of them!).

So Harrison, Jenn, and Hary, if you're reading this (I hope I'm not embarrassing you!) YOU ARE MY HEROES! Your thoughtfulness and generosity are SO appreciated. Thank you for giving your time for me, and for being a living example of what friendship is all about!

I am SO blessed!

Daily Post

This is the lamest excuse for a post I've ever seen, but there are some days when you just don't care. I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

The end.

... ok, not the end, cause twenty minutes later I totally feel like I'm cheating. So here's some youtube awesomeness. Enjoy!



"It's hot, steamy food in your face right now..."

And also? My whole house smells like skunk cause one sprayed just outside my door. Good times.

Around the house...

There are so SO many things I want to get done around my house. I rent, so it's not like I'm renovating, just year end organizing and general make-nicer-izing. Summer's coming (four more teaching days... though I'm not looking forward to the end this year, that's for sure), which means I'll have more TIME to actually get anything DONE around here.

* Sort and file paid bills
* Re-organize bookshelf and filing cabinet
* Replace overhead light fixtures in bedroom, kitchen, living room
* Sort (and get rid of!!!) massive pile of paper on my desk
* Clean out storage room
* Chose photos and design photo wall to go over my couch
* Print out, frame, and hang photos
* Make blog book (ok, that's not really around the house, but it's still a "to do" item)
* Back up hard drive
* Paint bedroom??? (Which would have been a much smarter thing to do BEFORE I bought my new set of bedroom furniture! D'Oh!)
* Buy plants and actually have flowers in my pots outside, not dead weedy things from last year

...

Ugh! That's enough! I'm overwhelmed already (ok, ok, I know that's not a lot compared to some of your lists, but it's still a lot, and I'm still teaching summer school, and by golly, I do'nt think you realize how much PAPER is in my house right now! Gaaaah!)! But boy will it be nice to have TIME to do this stuff! And I'll actually be around this summer to enjoy it once it's all done! Hooray!

Work Day!

We painted floors and primed and painted walls in the cottages today. I decided to paint the "I *heart* Kawkawa" message on the wall first. Um, it still shows through the paint. I'm hoping a second coat will take care of that. Hehehe... whoops!

La Música!

It all began towards the end of grade four, when the band teacher came into our class to find out who would like to join the band the next year. I was definitely in! I had no idea what I wanted to play, so I picked the clarinet, the same instrument my dad played when HE was in school.

I got my clarinet - a good ol' plastic rent-to-own Yamaha - and my friend Cathryn and I experimented and explored and taught ourselves how to play all kinds of new tunes. I remember being really proud that we figured out part of the Muppets theme song, and a variety of other tunes.

Band began, and I was hooked. I practiced and practiced, loving the cool songs our band teacher had us play. I mean, Captain Video? Hello! Who DOESN'T want to play an outer space overture with all kinds of video/space sound effects played on a cassette tape behind the music? Oh sweet YouTube, if only you had a clip of that awesome, awesome song!

Regular ol' school band wasn't enough for me, and in grade six or seven, I also joined the North Vancouver Youth Band, a community concert and marching band. Band geek-dom, here I come!

In high school I took up the alto sax for jazz band (and had a brief stint on the trombone), and by grade 10, I was in the junior concert band, the junior jazz band, the senior concert band, the senior jazz band, AND the North Vancouver Youth Band. I did fund raisers for band trips, went on tour most springs/summers, went to band camps, marched in countless parades, and went early one Monday a month for sectionals (an intensive lesson with just the instruments in your section - my sectional leader was Gene Ramsbottom, a fan-TASTIC clarinet player and man with pretty much the awesomest name ever. Watch, he's gonna google himself and find this this post now. Mr. Ramsbottom, you were a FABULOUS teacher. I learned SO much from you!).

When high school ended, I tried to keep up with the NVYB and joined the Capilano College concert band, but with commuting an hour and a half each way to university, and piles and piles of homework, that didn't last past first year. My clarinet began collecting dust in my closet, though I would take it out periodically and play through some of the old music I still had kicking around.

I miss being in band - that sense of being a part of something that is greater than you, that expressiveness, that sense of accomplishment when a piece is finally performance-ready. One day, I keep telling myself, I'll go back to it. Join a community band. Play again. It's going to take a lot of practicing on my own to get back to the point where I'd be anywhere NEAR ready to do that again...

Music, however, hasn't disappeared from my life completely. When I first started teaching, I started as a music teacher. Not really qualified except that I read music, I went to workshop after workshop, seminar after seminar, and learned as I went. It was challenging, but still so fun, as I got to participate in music again, and, more importantly, got to try to make kids love making music, too!

One of my favourite things about teaching music was that final moment, when all the boring, repetitive xylophone parts that we'd been practicing for WEEKS finally were ready to put together. The kids would be at the breaking point, complaining about "Why do we have to do this AGAIN???" and "I'm booooored!" but then! Then we'd put it all together, and the harmonies, the way each part fit together - that big picture - finally became apparent. I could see the looks of amazement on their faces as suddenly that boring old "doot-rest-doot-rest-doot-doot-doot" pattern came alive around them. They'd be concentrating their little heads off, then at the end, looked around in wonder as I got to exclaim, "Did you hear that? You did that! You made that! That was wonderful! That! was music!!!" They would look SO proud of themselves, and I knew that all those weeks of boring (for them), frustrating (for me) music classes paid off!

I still try to keep making music a little bit. Through teaching music, I discovered African drumming, and though I haven't really done a lot of it, I jump at any chance I can get to take a workshop! I bought myself a djembe at a county fair in Washington a few years ago, and I scooped the "family guitar" for my music ed class at university, and have had it ever since. I've been (very slowly and sporadically) teaching myself guitar, and though I'm not very good and I rarely play in front of anyone, it's something I enjoy as a stress reliever.

I've collected a variety of other random instruments over the years, too. I have my sister's flute sitting in my closet alongside my clarinet, for example. Every now and then I'll take it out and fiddle with it. I've figured out a major scale and a few simple tunes, but that's about it. And that fun little froggie in the photo? He's a guiro (wee'-ro) my friend gave to me after a trip to Thailand. It's good for some fun percussion every now and then! The gourd I bought at the same time as the djembe, cause I thought it was cool. Hey! An African instrument! I must have it! In retrospect, the plastic pony beads don't exactly do much for authenticity, and it's pretty ear-piercingly loud when you shake it, so needless to say, it hasn't gotten a lot of use. Oh well! The spoons are from when I did my language program in Chicoutimi, Quebec back in 2001. I bought them in Quebec City as a souvenir. I played them every night at campfire at Kawkawa later that summer, and by the end of the summer, had worn a hole right though my jeans because of it! I can play a mean spoon, let me tell you! Finger rolls are my forte! hehehe!

I guess once a band geek, always a band geek, but I wouldn't have it any other way. It's something that I enjoy, and even when I don't do it well or often, it still is such a great outlet for me to be creative, to lose myself, to hone a skill, to relax. I hope it continues to be part of my life for a very long time to come!

More on the job front...

While it's still not entirely clear what's going to happen with my job next year, it's getting to be more and more definite. It looks like I'll be leaving my school. There doesn't seem to be any movement with the school board in letting the other teacher declare herself surplus, so it looks like it'll be me who's packing up and moving on in less than two weeks.

At least I know now where it is I'll be moving on. Though still uncertain about whether or not I'd need to, I went through the whole application process - just under twenty applications, three interviews, and I was offered two jobs to choose between, both at the school I preferred out of the two schools I interviewed at. It looks like I'll be teaching another grade 1/2 split next year - I have to call the principal tomorrow morning and officially accept the offer. On the bright side of things, I'm glad that I'll be doing the same grade level next year. I at least have a year of doing this under my belt, and I feel like I can take and improve on what I started on this year. AND, it's another school with a modified week, which means I'll still be done at noon on Fridays (so I can stay till 6pm working... insane-o me). The school is a quarter the size of the school I'm at now - so crazy! But I think it'll be good.

Now over the next two weeks comes the part I am SO not looking forward to - the packing up of all my stuff... the goodbyes... leaving the school I've called home for the last five years - my first school, the staff and students I love so much, the place my heart has grown so attached to.

I'm going to be a big ol' blubbering mess for the next two weeks, let me tell you. Good thing you can't see me, cause it's starting already...

I love my daddy!

Quick post today - I thought I'd share a song with you. I've loved this song since the first time I heard it... it has an almost dreamy characteristic to it. Cheesy way of making the "Home" theme? Perhaps. But I DO really like this song. It's just conveeeenient that it fits the theme! Enjoy!

Come on over!

Welcome! It's Friday evening, thanks for comin' over! Come on in, sit down. Can I get you a drink? Tea? Hot chocolate? Something cold? Sorry, I don't have a coffee maker... but I made some treats for us - take one (or three!), enjoy...


OK, readers! This post is all about YOU! I'm away for the weekend, so I'm hoping the interesting stuff in this post will be in the comments. After coming back from Rita Lihaven's memorial yesterday, I've had a lot on my mind, but one of those things is that, even though I only knew her for a short time, she is a woman who has inspired me, and who I look up to very much. In the comments, I'd love to hear about a person in your life who has had a big impact on your life, who has inspired you, who you look up to. Who are they? Why have they been influential?

Thanks for coming over! Feel free to stay as long as you want. If you run out of strawberries, there are more in the fridge! ;)

_______________
PS. What looks like a gross drippy stain beside my door (yukkers!)? Yeah, that's a windchime.

This is so that I'll look smart

Click the photo above for a larger view.

In university, I took a little of everything. A smattering of this, a smattering of that... I didn't even declare my major (French) till my third year, and then only because I HAD to. Even my choice of major was, in part, to allow a large variety in the course I took. French lit, grammar, composition, phonetics, linguistics, history... there were so many different disciplines within my major.

I never declared a minor, though had I been allowed to combine classical studies and religious studies, that would have been it. In fact, I had 24 credits in those two areas, all because of a set of novels I read in high school - the Mark of the Lion series by Francine Rivers. Soooo good! I'll have to tell you about it in another post, but essentially it was historical fiction set in ancient Rome, and I got really interested so I decided to take a Classical Studies course in first year, and ba-BAM! 24 credits later... Who SAYS books don't influence people's lives? (Um, ok, no one. You're right.) In any case, the classics/religious studies minor wasn't allowed, so instead, I scooted my way around the campus soaking in all manner of courses. Chemistry, Greek philosophy, anthropology, physics, German, children's lit, family studies, calculus, astronomy, geography, psychology... you name it!

I SO loved university. The papers, not so much, but the classes? Awesome. (And? I can't believe I finished my undergrad SEVEN YEARS ago!!! The education program alone was already five years ago! WHAT IS GOING ON??? hehehe) I'm glad that I kept my books (well, ok, not the chem, physics, or math ones! Though that photo represents only a few of the texts I still have - I picked that shelf cause I thought it'd make me look the smartest! ;) hehe!), cause every now and then, I take them off the shelf and flip through them. This summer I'd like to re-read some of the Greek plays. I really liked them, and think I'll like them even more when I don't have to write a major paper on them! Can't say I'm gonna be dragging the Norton Anthology around with me, though! Sheesh!

Sometimes I feel like my brain is getting mushy and that I miss the academic world - the learning, the discovering... I'm not convinced I'm done with school yet. We'll see, but it sure was fun the first time around!

What was one of your favourite classes while you were in school/college/university/etc?

Sunflowers

When I finished my practicum nearly five years ago, my sponsor teacher gave me quite the send off. She had all the students in the class write me a poem or a message, illustrate it, and then she bound it all up in a book. This was all done in secret, while she sneakily gave me time to go off into a quieter room and spend some time marking assignments. I wouldn't have been wise to her, except that the way they giggled and twittered and tried to talk in code around me definitely let me know that something was up. Grade six kids do NOT know the art of subtlety.

Sidenote: It's funny, actually, all through the practicum Sponsor Teacher and I would laugh about how NOT subtle the kids would be. From "whispering" to super secret crushes, they certainly weren't hard to figure out... which made me think back to MY pre-teen years and realize that, yeah... that super secret crush I had on Kyle Clasky, that dreamy Aussie boy who came to my school for a year and a half? EVERYBODY KNEW.

But this book "my" class made for me was a work of art. Decorated with representations of all the different things I taught them and filled with messages, it is something I look through every now and then when I need a reminder of why I do what I do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some excerpts:

Miss Hillary's voice can be as soft as a cloud
but when she's mad she can be loud!
She's cheerful, happy, tricky, and smart
She's even good at French and art!
I'm very glad I met Miss Hillary
because she's such a good teacher and a friend to me.
Goodbye, farewell, just don't forget me
as well as the noisy division three!

Happy personality that
Interests me a
Lot. A very
Likeable person and
An extravagant French speaker
Really quite
Youthful and happy

Miss Hillary's Report Card
teaching - A+
detention - C-
Yell - A+

Report Card Comments [from a different student than above]:
1. Your voice speaks so expressively, so we don't get bored.
2. Congrats! You completed your mission in controlling us!
3. GREAT IDEAS!

Miss Hillary helps
When the students yelp
She comes to their need
They will show her a B
She will erase the B
And produce an A

[written beside a drawing] "This magnificent red raindrop tree symbolizes power and control over students"


One of a Kind Teacher, MISSING.

Around 10:00am this morning, Miss Hillary was reported missing from her classroom at McSchool Elementary. People say Miss Hillary left because her schooling was over. They said she needed to go find a real job, being a teacher and not a student teacher anymore.
"The students of McSchool Elementary are not satisfied with any of these suggestions," says Sponsor Teacher, the other teacher in the class. The children respond to her disappearance with great hardship. "I am glad other children will be able to learn the way I did. And will be in her presence. I miss it myself. Sigh." said Mally, and X-student of Miss Hillary's. Her location is still unknown but the FBI is still looking, and hope to be successful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drawing in the photo above is from a student in that class. She remembered me saying one time that I loved sunflowers, so at home, she did a rough drawing first then created this work of art for me. She mounted it on heavy card and tied string to each corner so that I could hang it. I was so touched at her thoughtfulness - far above and beyond what the class assignment was, it was an expression of appreciation and of generosity, and it was . I promised her I would find a place to put it up in my house, and I did. It hangs proudly in the hallway, a reminder of the very beginning of my teaching career.

It's also a reminder for me of the face that teaching is about touching lives. And I'm not talking about me touching the lives of my students, though I suppose there's that, too. The drawing for me is a reminder of how much my students have affected me. These kids... man, they make such an impact on my life. Each student makes their own little mark in their own ways, and as I near the end of my fifth year in this career, I think about students like D. What she wrote in the book touched me deeply - something every teacher wants their students to say about them - and it's students like her, students like so many others, who keep my going through the insanity, through the frustration. I love those cheery sunflowers by D for reminding me of all this, for keeping me in the game. It's so worth it.

Surplus

My school has become like a second home to me (and not just cause I'm here 10-12 hours a day!). I've said it before, but I love this place. Yes, it's frustrating at times. No, it's not perfect. But this is the first school I've ever worked in, and I have felt so supported here. I've grown so much as a teacher - from a part time music prep teacher, teaching all grades in two languages to an intermediate teacher to a primary teacher - I've done just about every category of job I could do within these walls. And I've made great relationships here, too: I have such amazing people that I work with, both students and staff.

Back at the beginning of May, I learned that enrollment was down and we would be losing a division next year, so I would be declared surplus to the school's organization, unless anyone voluntarily decided to surplus themselves. That didn't happen, so on May 15, I got my official letter . But then on May 16, things changed. Kinda. Which is why I haven't blogged about it, cause everything all of a sudden was up in the air. And still kinda is. I think. Maybe. Or not. I don't know.

Basically, there is one teacher off on a leave right now who was not informed of the surplus situation. It turns out that she wants to volunteer to leave and try for a position that's not currently available at our school. HOORAY! I'd get to stay! It's sad that this teacher wouldn't be there, cause I really like her. But it also means I'd get to keep my position!

Except.

Except nobody knew if she'd be allowed to volunteer to be surplussed while on leave. It's been going back and forth now for nearly a month, with neither of us knowing for sure what is going on. It's basically up to HR to decide, and apparently it's not a cut and dry process.

So here I sit and wait. Will I be staying? Will I be leaving? Nobody knows. The other teacher has been absolutely fabulous with keeping me updated and encouraging me. There's just as much frustration on this person's end, too. We've both been in this state of... what? Unknowing? for nearly a month now.

In the meantime, job postings have come out, I've had to apply, and I am now being called for interviews. The principal of one school called me last night to set up an interview for two positions at his school. I wanted to yell into the phone, "I DON'T WANT YOUR INTERVIEW! I just want to STAY HERE!" (But, uhhh... that probably wouldn't have been the most stellar plan!) If it turns out she IS allowed to surplus herself, I rescind my applications. If not, well, I guess I start packing up all my stuff.

This other teacher and I both want to teach the same grade level. I desperately want to stay at my school to do it. She is intent on leaving in order to make that happen. But because officially I am surplussed and she is not, even though she has WAY more seniority than me, I'm in a higher priority category and I'll end up getting the jobs before she does. IT'S SO DUMB!!!

I emailed one of the union executives a few days ago to just ask if he knew any more about the situation. Yesterday, I got my answer, and while it wasn't definitive, it definitely didn't sound good: "... the board has repeatedly said no to her repeated offer of voluntarily surplussing herself. She is, therefore, still on staff... and you are the one that is still surplus from the school... For this week, you should go to interviews you’ve been shortlisted for, and be prepared to accept jobs [when they begin offering them] on the 16th."

It would seem that the only light at the end of the tunnel would be that IF this decision turns around or if she gets a job another way, then I have the right to return to the school I've been surplussed from. I might have to leave. I do have to leave. I won't have to leave. I might still have to leave. I will have to leave. I might not have to leave. I probably have to leave but I might get to come back... Really, how long do I want to have the carrot dangling in front of me?

Blah! I can't even tell you how much this sucks. Yeah, that life is good thing I wrote yesterday? Yes, it's still true. I know that in the grand scheme of things, my life is very, very good and there is a TON to be grateful about. But this job thing is so long and drawn out and frustrating. It makes me just want to run away. Like maybe to Vernazza. Heh.

Acrostic

Hillary
Is insane for staying waaaay too
Late at school. She does NOT
Live there, contrary to what it would seem. She
Arrived home AFTER nine o'clock.
Restless and exhausted, she
Yawns before falling into bed.

Vernazza

This hand-painted porcelain tile hangs right beside my door, so I see it a lot. For me, this is one of a number of things around my house that remind me of my trip to Europe two summers ago. Lately, I've been getting the travel itch in a big way, but I'm not in a position to do anything about it this year (thank you, dumb car, who, by the way, is getting me back for my little 'you won't beat me!' showdown post by deciding to need new brakes like, last week). All I can do is look through my pictures, re-read my old blog posts, and wish I could go back...

That was a glorious, glorious summer. July was full of mountaintops, beaches, sunsets, and starlight - every weekend through most of June and all of July I was hiking and swimming and enjoying long chats with friends late into the evening. It certainly didn't hurt that one friend who was with me every time was someone I was absolutely crazy about. It was the fun, thrilling, crazy-making beginnings of what seemed like - or at least what I so strongly hoped - would become something amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better July...

... And then I went to Europe! I spent all of August exploring, discovering, meeting new people, and absolutely loving the freedom of travelling where I wanted, doing things on my own, figuring out new cities, taking in the culture, the scenery, the history, the cuisine... It's definitely been one of the bigger highlights of my life so far.

But of all the places I went, it was the Cinque Terre that captured me the most. I fell in love with Vernazza, one of the five tiny, colourful towns that tumbled down the steep hillsides. The terraced vineyards rising high above the towns. The azure blue mediterranean waves crashing onto the breakwater, the tiny fishing boats bobbing in the harbour, the tall yellow clock tower chiming out the hour over the village from dawn to dusk every day... it was spectacular. The food, the wine, the views, the colours, the smells - rosemary, thyme, salty air, hot dusty ground. The towns were each tiny, the locals were friendly (like the little old man selling Limoncello under a lemon tree who gave me a kiss on the cheek when he saw the Canadian flag on my backpack!), and it was pretty much the most romantic place I've ever been (um, NOT cause of the little old man!).

Each time I look at that little reminder of Italian heaven on my wall, I drift back to the three days I spent there. I can hear the animated conversations of tourist and local like, the chime of the clock tower and the din of the restaurants on the piazza, the waves pounding the breakwater. I so long to go back and sit on my patio high above the sea and drift off - no cares, no sense of time, no nothing. Just soaking in existence and beauty.

One day I will go back. Till then, each time I look at the view of Vernazza beside my door, I try to remember to let existence and beauty soak in where I am, too. To not let life get so crazy or get so overwhelming that I forget to enjoy it... Cause life is good here, too!

On the fridge

Food and friends. Yesirre, bob, those go together quite well. Going out with friends for a meal is a given. But what I'm talking about here is my refrigerator. What's in it isn't exactly blogworthy, but I sure have a cornucopia of stuff on the front of it that is fun! Fun for me, anyway, but hey, you're here, so let's just call it fun for you, too!

This is a picture of one side of my fridge. It's a fun little scavenger hunt game, cause you've got to click on the picture then roll your mouse all over the front of it to find out what's what and who's who. I'll go put away my groceries while you do that, mmkay? Go ahead....


... yeah LIKE you're gonna spend that much time studying my fridge. But really, go click on over, then come back to tell me what you've got on YOUR fridge! And then, just cause apparently I have no shame, I'll let you in on an embarassing little secret...

...

...

...

Soooo I had some friends over the other night and got almost all my dishes done before they came, except for one large pot with some tupperware inside. Time was of the essence, so I just tucked it away in my oven. Yeah. I know. Hush. So tonight, I got home from grocery shopping absolutely ravenous and got ready to pop in a frozen pizza...

Do I really need to finish this story for you??? No, I didn't think so. Let's just say that I need a new large measuring cup and am really hoping that plastic peels off the side of pots easily. Dangit.

Her melody

As I look around my house, I see more and more that within its walls are all kinds of stories. Stories of places I've been, of people I love, of things I've done. Stories that tell a little bit about who I am. So one project I think I'm going to take on for this month as a part of the "home" theme is to share a little bit of my home with you. I wish I could invite you in, make a cup of tea, serve up some goodies, and have a good chat, but unfortunately that simply isn't possible for the majority of you. So instead, I'll welcome you in through my blog. Get comfy and make yourself at home. And hey, if you want to do the same, let me know! I'd love to hear some of the stories that come from your home, too! It doesn't have to be daily - mine won't be - but leave me a message in the comments if you want to participate.

So here goes... part number one of the yet-to-be-named series.


She is one of my most treasured possessions. I saw her in a box of things my grandpa was getting rid of one day, and snatched her up. I had to have her. She doesn't have a name, nor is she pristinely perfect. Her hair is falling out in places and her apron strings are beginning to fray. But she sits in a place of honour on the dresser beside my bed, in just the same place she sat in the spare room at my grandma and grandpa's house. The spare room, second from the last down the hallway on the right. The spare room with big puffy yellow wallpaper flowers, white wicker headboard, and white bumpy-textured blanket on the bed.

On the nightstand sat this doll, and every time I slept over at Grandma's, I would wind her up and fall asleep to the beautiful, tinny song she played while her red sparkly skirt brushed the tabletop as she turned in slow-motion circles.

Today, the small cylinder in the music box underneath her skirt is beginning to wear - the raised bumps that pluck the tiny tines are not quite long enough in places to reach anymore, and some notes of the melody fade in and out, while some don't play at all. But she still plays enough of the song to carry me back to my early childhood. To sleepovers at Grandma's house when I was very young, probably eight years old or younger. After that, she was very sick, and couldn't have us over very often anymore. She passed away when I was ten.

As much as the doll reminds me of my grandma and those nostalgic childhood moments, the song parallels my memories of her. Snippets of a melody - some notes fading, some that are lost, but enough that remain strong and clear to remember how the melody carries on when the music begins to falter.

I wish I had known my Grandma as an adult. To learn to appreciate her not just for sleepovers and shopping trips and weekends in the trailer at Birch Bay, but for who she was on a deeper level. Her amazing gift of hospitality. Her stories. Her deep, deep love for Jesus. Instead, I have to be content to know her as I saw her as a child... Helping her bake a coffee cake or cinamon buns for another newcomer's welcome lunch after church. Gardening in her yard or at the trailer. Teaching me to memorize the 23rd Psalm. Building gingerbread houses with her at Christmas time. Some notes I remember on my own. Others, my grandpa sings for me, taking little moments every now and then to pull me aside and tell me about her -what she was like, what she loved, who she was. He still loves her so, so much. I know he tells me these things because he doesn't want her to be forgotten.

But like the doll that sits on my dresser, she is still a part of my life. A part of my childhood. A part of my heritage. And I'm grateful I still have her melody.

Home

I posted this originally on September 18, 2005, but as I sit here and think of what to write for my first "Home" post, this is the story that keeps coming to mind over and over again. So here is where this journey of defining "home" will begin (it's unedited, so five years is now nearly eight, and three years is now nearly six. My, how time does fly!). Enjoy!

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Home. Apparently this is still a confused word for me.

I have been living on my own for... [counting on my fingers] ... wow. Five years now. I have been at my place now for exactly three. I feel like my place is home. I still refer to my mom and dad's place as 'home' sometimes, but I would say overall, 'home' is my own place.

That's sort of a weird shift for me. It's strange going home (there I go again... I mean to mom and dad's) and not totally feeling like I belong there. I don't have a bedroom there anymore, and I don't always remember where things are. When I'm helping to unload the dishwasher, I often have to ask where things go in the kitchen.

Even more strange is coming home, er, to mom and dad's, and having the first person I see be someone I've never met before. My parents are part of a home stay program for a few language schools in town, so there is almost always at least one student from Japan or Germany or Brazil or any number of other countries staying there. Sometimes I walk in (I do still have a house key!) and the new student looks at me like, "Who are you?" (They're not always that attentive to photos on the walls, etc). I feel like saying, "Hi, I'm Hillary. I live here."

Except I don't.

I realized this past week that this issue of 'home' is more confused for me than I thought it was. As I've mentioned, my friend Cathy from Australia is staying with me right now while she's finishing up her occupational therapy practicum. Other than her staying with me, I've never had a roommate, so the only reason I've had to phone my house is to occasionally leave a reminder voicemail for myself.

The other day I was grocery shopping and wanted to know if Cathy wanted me to pick anything up. So, I got out my cell to call home. And that's exactly what I did. I dialed the number without even thinking, and after two rings, I got a voice I was definitely not expecting.

"Uh.... hi, Dad."

I had called home.

We had a good chuckle about this and then I did what I meant to do in the first place: call home.

Now this makes for a cute story, but it's not exactly blogworthy in and of itself. However, the story's not over. (Hillary? Tell a short story? Neeeever!)

Cut to last Friday afternoon. I was preparing for my substitute teacher who will be there all week while I'm at Grade 7 Camp. It was taking longer than I had expected and Cathy and I had plans for the evening. I needed to call her to ask her to get dinner started so we could eat before we went out.

The command went from my brain to my fingers: Call Home. One ring later, "Um... hi, mom."

I laughed at myself and told her how I ended up sounding confused and talking to her instead of Cathy. She then then told me that she thought I was calling to wish my dad happy birthday. AAAHHHH! Which also meant that I had forgotten to call her on her birthday three days earlier. But that level of "I'm a bad bad daughter" guilt requires it's very own post.



'Home' is not a cut and dry word for me, apparently. I guess on some level, mom and dad's will always be home. It's where I grew up, it's where my family is. It looks like I'm in for a few more confused phone calls 'home.' And I'm ok with that.