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?

Unintentional horn-tooting

Eek! I didn't mean to sound all "look how awesome I am" in that last post. I picked the excerpts cause they made me laugh (ie. I got an A+ in "yell???" ... well, after today, I can see that. I yelled at my kdis today. I told them their listening today was terrible. It was.) and cause they're just fun exapmles of kid's writing. Oh well, they're there. They're fun. They weren't the point of the post, but I got carried away.

Ha! Also. ("Carried away" reminded me...) I saw Sex and the City on the weekend. Any of you seen it? What did you think?

Hmmm... I had McDonald's for dinner. Booo. My tummy hurts. But I'm prepping for a sub and cleaning up and posting partly to procrastinate and partly to satisfy Melissa's demands for MORE! POSTS! So I can't go home yet. Seriously. I need to set up a cot.

The janitors pretty much hate me.

Report cards. I DON'T WANNA!

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.

Little miss grumpy pants

So I'm sitting here in my classroom with frozen toes and icy fingers, in my jacket, sniffling and snurfing with a ding-dang dreadful cold, head so full I feel like it's going to pop. The rain is pounding on my window and there are several large-ish lakes in the courtyard outside. The back field is a mud pit and has been closed all day. And it is FREEZING outside. It's not just today, either. Last Thursday, for example, was the coldest day EVER for that date. Sounds like I'm describing a November day, doesn't it?

IT'S THE MIDDLE OF FRICKIN' JUNE!!! Enough already!

Bah. And I really SHOULD add "humbug" cause it feels like wintertime!!!! GrrrrRAR!

Rebirth, part six: Rita Lihaven

If you didn't catch Rebirth: Part Five, first go read it here.

Also, a note to all of you who have found this post by googling Rita's name... welcome! If I have any of these facts wrong, please forgive me, and feel free to email me with any corrections. I'll change them as soon as possible.
__________________________________

There have been many influential people involved in getting Camp Kawkawa up and running again. One of these people has been Rita Lihaven. Rita came on as interim director for Kawkawa and then joined the board shortly before the decision was made to close the camp. Around the same time, she was diagnosed with cancer, and the prognosis was not good. However, she remained active with Kawkawa after its closure in all the behind-the-scenes business that had to happen, even through chemo treatments and illness. As circumstances surrounding camp began to change, so did Rita's cancer. While it looked like camp would be able to open again, Rita was also getting better. She told the story many times that her story and Kawkawa's story ran parallel to one another, and told people that she believed God healed her for this purpose. And so she began to throw herself whole-heartedly into doing whatever it took to get camp up and running again. She has done an incredible, incredible amount of work for the camping ministry in which she believes so much. While there have been many, many people involved with Kawakwa, Rita's work and her passion for Kawkawa is one of the major reasons that it is open again today.

I first met Rita at the farewell in January 2006, but I've gotten to know her a little better over the last eight months or so through work days up at camp, meetings, and countless emails and phone calls regarding all things Kawkawa. Her creativity and refusal to let circumstances limit imagination has blown me away. She is inspiring in so many ways - as a Christian, as a leader, as a friend. I so wish I could have had more opportunity to get to know this wonderful woman better.

You see, she passed away earlier this week.

Now that I think about it, I remember her saying up at camp one day that the doctors had never fully declared her cancer free, but she quickly added, "but look at me! I feel great! I'm healthy, I'm here! They gave me a few months to live and that was a year and a half ago. God's got other plans for me." And he did.

Within the last two months, Rita turned 55, graduated with her masters from a theological seminary, and saw the final plans come together that would ensure that Kawkawa would be up and running in the summer and for many years to come. But also in that time, I guess the cancer caught up with her. She got pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital about two weeks ago. She died on Friday. I already miss her so much.

Rita was an incredible woman with a passion for seeing kids come to know Jesus. She worked for years as a children's pastor and then continued in family and adult ministries. She was the director for Kawkawa through its darkest time. I wish I knew her more to be able to expand on how much of a blessing she has been to others. Instead, all I can offer are the ways she's touched my own life. She was always encouraging, always positive, and always challenged me and others to think outside the proverbial box. She definitely was a woman with spunk. Even during her chemo treatments when people would stop emailing her, not wanting to bother her, she chastised them: "I'm NOT dead! Keep me updated!" She was a woman full of fun, passion for kids and for Jesus, and full of life. She has reminded me time and time again that nothing - NOTHING is impossible with God, and has been a living example of what it really looks like to trust God in all things.

While we all feel she that she died entirely too soon, I know beyond a doubt that God gave her these extra years for a reason. Like Kawkawa, Rita, too, has been made new: I know that she is now free - free of pain, free of cancer, free to finally meet the Jesus she served and loved so much. She is home.

Rita, you will be missed deeply. Thank you for pouring your life out for others and, ultimately, for God. You have touched so many people in ways I'm sure you are only just beginning to discover. Though you are gone, your life and your influence will reach into eternity.

Rita Lihaven
April 30, 1953 - June 6, 2008

If you are the praying type, could I ask you to please pray for Rita's husband,
three children, and extended family during this time? Thank you so much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank You, by Ray Boltz

I dreamed I went to heaven and you were there with me;
We walked upon the streets of gold beside the crystal sea.
We heard the angels singing, then someone called your name.
We turned and saw a young man running and he was smiling as he came.

And he said, "Friend you may not know me now." And then he said, "But wait,
You used to teach my Sunday School when I was only eight.
And every week you'd say a prayer before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer, I asked Jesus in my heart."

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave...

One by one they came, far as the eye could see.
Each life somehow touched by your generosity.
Little things that you had done, sacrifices made,
Unnoticed on the earth, but in heaven now proclaimed.

And I know up in heaven you're not supposed to cry
But I am almost sure there were tears in your eyes.
As Jesus took your hand and you stood before the Lord.
He said, "My child, look around you. Great is your reward."

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

Rebirth, part five: Made New

It was a grey, November day when I went back to camp for the first time since the farewell nearly two years previous. The previously well-kept camp was showing all the signs of being all but abandoned over two winters. Windows were broken and a few doors were smashed down where vandals had broken in and left their mark. Buildings were dusty and cold and leaking, and a fallen electrical pole had cut off power to many buildings. The grass on the field was knee high, and two autumns worth of dead fall covered the ground. The tiny stream had jumped its bank and cut a deep channel through the middle of the beach, washing half the sand away with it. The docks were partially buried and half sunken into the lake, and tiny trees had sprung up where we used to play beach volleyball. The big windstorms of two winters ago had knocked a few trees down farther up the property, and where there used to be a gravel and dirt clearing in the forest around the chalets, saplings and weeds now grew nearly four feet high. The campfire area - that sacred place where I and so many other campers had met God in such life-altering ways - was strewn with garbage and broken beer bottles from people looking for a far removed place to party.

It was hard to be there, to see how this beautiful place that had meant so much to me had begun to fall apart. I had thought about going up to see the camp in the past, but really didn't know if I wanted to. I wanted it to live in my memory as it had been - bright, well-kept, full of kids, noisy, alive. I didn't know what condition it would be in, and didn't know if I could bear seeing it closed and boarded up, overgrown and empty. And yet, there I was...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have a friend named Cathy who lives in Sydney, Australia. She and I met at camp a number of years ago, and we quickly became friends. She's been back a few times since then, once for an extended stay, living with me while she did her practicum. This past August she was in town visiting again. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and a bunch of our friends were walking up Main St. for a leisurely after-church lunch. Kawkawa came up in conversation, and it was then that Cathy told me, "Hey, did you hear that they're opening again?"

I nearly tripped on my own feet. "What?! But how? Huh? Are you sure? Really!?!?! ... And how do YOU, who live in Australia know about this before I do?"

"I don't know! I'm on some mailing list, apparently. I got a letter saying they were opening up, and to please pray for the whole process."

I can't even describe how thrilled I was. There may or may not have been some overjoyed squealing and spontaneous jig-dancing in the middle of the sidewalk right then and there. I very quickly began doing some research and making some phone calls and found out that, indeed, Kawkawa was going to be opening once more! I didn't know how, or why, or any details ("Wasn't the mountain unstable???") but yes, it was true!

Over the next few months, I learned more and more, and knew that I HAD to be involved again. And so, one cold November Saturday morning, three friends and I drove up to Hope for the first scheduled work day to begin getting camp ready for campers to arrive this summer. Yes, the camp was in bad shape, but there was not the weight of sadness there that was there the last time I was there. Instead, there was laughter. There were hugs. There was hope.

We had food cooking in the kitchen, and there was the sound of people all over the site - working, clearing away the death, bringing new life to Camp Kawkawa. Crews were raking leaves, demolishing trailers, cleaning floors, burning debris and leaves, surveying the camp and making lists of all the work that had to be done. There was a buzz of excitement in the air as we all worked towards a common purpose.

At the end of the day, I went down to the lake and walked out to the end of the dock. Smoke from our fires had escaped the cover of the trees and had seeped down to the water, cirlcing around, adding to the greyness of the day. I sat down on the edge and looked out across the lake. How many times had I sat there? How many times had I escaped the craziness of camp to go and sit, surrounded by the awe-inspiring mountains on either side and the calm water in front of me, just enjoying time with God.

The weather might have been grey, but my heart had exploded with hope, with colour, with beauty. Everywhere I looked, I saw rebirth, from the bulbs planted in the garden just waiting for spring, to the dead fall being cleared away and burned, to the excitement and anticipation of campers arriving that very first week of summer ready to experience a rebirth of their own.

So many of the questions we had when it closed now make sense, and it's beyond exciting to see how God has worked things all the way through this process. He is clearly not finished working at Kawkawa and I am SO excited to see what He's going to do in the years to come!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That November work day was the first day of something that has become such a large part of my life. From planning meetings with Rita, the executive director, to information meetings, to networking, to promotions, to speaking at different groups at my church about opportunities to help, to hours spent on powerpoint presentations, to monthly trips up to camp to rake, garden, demolish, build, clean... I am SO thrilled to be involved with camp again. Chances are if you know me in real life, you've thought at least once (probably more!), "OK! Hillary! Enough about camp already!" Recently a friend teased me that it seems not a week goes by without an email from me involving something to do with Kawkawa.

With all this involvement, um, it's been a little strange not being able to talk about it on my blog (though that's been purely my own restriction). After the "closed" post, I didn't really know how to begin the next post. I don't even know how many times I'd started it and not completed it. I knew it would take a long time to write - to get the feeling just right, to capture what was going on in my heart, in my head. And so it didn't happen and didn't happen and didn't happen. But all that time, I was doing more and more with camp, and didn't really know how to summarize it all. I kinda feel bad that I've not been talking about such an amazing, exciting part of my life. But then I just decided, this is silly. I so badly want to keep talking about camp. I need to just write this post, not worry about getting it 'just right' and get on with it. So here I am. Sorry it's taken me so long. There will be more installments to come!

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.

BABY PANDAS!!!!!

I can't even HANDLE the cuteness!!!!

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.

Aye yei YEI!

Despite having gotten my paycheque and paid my rent already - the usual first-of-the-month indicators for me - somehow it still hit me like a ton of bricks today that it's JUNE (probably cause I had finally gotten all my kidlets to simmer down this morning then realized I hadn't changed the calendar over yet. I had to take down the May poster, peel off all the velcro date thingies, put up a new weather chart... D'oh!) But it's JUNE! Finally! Already?!? So soon???

Two weeks till report cards are due (ummm... no, actually. 10 DAYS. GAK!)
Four weeks till the end of school.
Nineteen days till the first official day of summer.

SUMMER!

Hoo, boy, I can't WAIT! Yeah, yeah, there's still summer school in the mix there, but SUMMER! Glorious hot days to spend lounging, hiking, swimming, adventuring... Oh, how I can't WAIT! I really think *I'm* the one with the more eager countdown. I am SOOO ready for a vacation!

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!

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

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.

Let the writing commence!

"NaBloPoMo: Not just in November anymore!"

NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) has gotten so popular that it now runs year round. Every month there is a theme and bloggers sign up - committing to post every day for a month with something along the lines of that theme. I figure, I post almost every day anyway, so why not?

I haven't done it since the "official" one in November (which is now no longer official) but I really liked June's theme:

Home
The theme for June blogging is home. Whatever home means to you: a place where you keep all your stuff, the place you came from, a place you dream of creating, or something you hold in your heart.

Like the saying goes, "Home is where the heart is." So in addition to posts directly related to my home - the one I am from, the one I live in, the one I dream of having - I plan on writing about things and about people that are close to my heart. It'll be a gran ol' mish mash, if you will. So saddle up! Here goes!

Happiness is...

... last minute plans that quickly trumped the Friday night plan of eating a quick and easy dinner and falling asleep on the couch by myself
... abandoning all "should be's," "oughtta be's," and "would be's" for a fun evening off
... three girlfriends in a red jeep jabbering about life & boys & dancing & babies & more boys
... chocolate with a generous splash of grand marnier melting on the stove
... a never-ending plate of bananas and cherries and oranges and strawberries and watermelon - all doused in mouth-watering warm gooey dark chocolate
... laughing gut-splittingly and hysterically at a good movie... and at eachother!
... good girlfriends, silliness, and friendships that make me a rich, rich woman

Thanks, ladies! You made my week! :)

Workplace hazards

I have DRA elbow.

'Tis the season for administering the Developmental Reading Assesments. This means lots of independent work for the other kids while I sit with them one at a time and listen to them read, take running records, discuss the book and ask comprehension questions.

I sit sideways to my table in those little mini chairs, knees up by my ears, pencil in my left hand on the table, while I face the student who is reading to me and have my right hand in my lap. I'm resting on my left elbow as I check off miscues and make notes about the reading strategies they use.

And I've been resting on my elbow so much that it is swollen and sore. Do you think worker's comp covers DRA elbow? No? I didn't think so either! hehehe!

In other news, I'm not exactly sure how this happened, but there's been a flurry of field trip planning in the last week and, including this week, we now have one field trip a week until the end of the school year. ONE. TRIP. A. WEEK. That's insane!

This week we went to go see Alligator Pie - a live theatre production based on the poems of Dennis Lee. Next week we're walking over to the high school to see the theatre department's production of Dr. Seuss' The Lorax. Not to mention that we're showing the movie How To Eat Fried Worms as the wrap-up to our worm unit AND it's Sports Day on Friday. The week after that we're taking the bus (oh. my. good. heavens - PUBLIC TRANSIT with 42 six, seven, and eight year olds?!?!?! What were we THINKING?) to the Vancouver Museum to do the Pioneer Vancouver program. The week after that is Beach Day - a full day of play at Stanley Park's Second Beach. And, just cause we're suckers for punishment, the third-to-last day of school we're braving public transit AGAIN to go to Science World to play, explore, discover and do a workshop all about soil and worms.

Oh man, I'm exhausted already just thinking about it!

Cause I'm anal like that

Yesterday I put up a bulletin board with some fabulous stories my kidlets had written. As soon as I was finished, I realized that the stories slowly get higher and higher as they go along the row. They're not level. It bothered me last night, but I was in a hurry to leave so didn't do anything about it. But it's been grating at my eyeballs all day today, and even though it's 6:16pm and I am hungry and tired and have work to do at home and I am so SO sick of being here today, I am going to stay and fix it. I will measure down from the top of the board, make a faint pencil line to line them all up to, pull all the staples out, and REDO the bulletin board so that it's level.

I am a sick, sick woman.

Even when life doesn't go as I'd planned

Oh how I try for this to be true...

I’d rather stand on the edge of a cliff
And hang my toes over a bit,
And then jump when they dare me,
Even if it scares me,
And I get hurt.
I’d rather build my wings on the way down,
Do my best not to fall to the ground
and then laugh at my mistakes
‘cause they're only lessons I’ll learn.

I’d rather burn with desire deep in my soul,
And love like a fire that’s out of control,
and laugh and dance and fall and chance and kiss
I’d rather live my whole life with a sense of abandon,
Squeeze every drop out, no matter what happens.
And not wonder what I've missed...

I’d rather risk.

Well I guess I could just play it safe
and forget about love, hope and faith,
with my eye on the shore line,
keeping my boat tied and staying home...
Oh, but I’ll never discover new land
by keeping my feet on the sand
No I’d rather set sail
and get carried away by the storm.

I’d rather burn with desire deep in my soul,
And love like a fire that’s out of control,
and laugh and dance and fall and chance and kiss
I’d rather live my whole life with a sense of abandon,
Squeeze every drop out, no matter what happens.
And not wonder what I've missed...

I’d rather risk.

~ Words and music by Paul Brandt

It's me! On YouTube!

(With sound this time. Heh.) My friend Jon put together this little montage of our Coke and Mentos experiment gone wrong. It's way condensed (there was over 6 minutes of footage, and even that wasn't the whole thing!) and so, so funny. Enjoy!

Spreadin' the love

Leespea writes one of the best 'teacher blogs' around. Her stories about her squirrels, as she calls them, are hysterical, and her dedication to and love love LOVE of her job is phenomenal! She's always got a positive take on life.

Recently she's given not one, but TWO shoutouts to me on her blog... she's been pilin' on the blog love and passing out the warm fuzzies left right and center. So a huge thank you to her, and now it's time to pay it forward! So here ya go... I'm passing on the "I Love You This Much" award to these ten bloggers (only ten???). These women and this gent make me laugh, make me think, challenge me, entertain me, inspire me, encourage me, pray for me or wish me well, and are just all-round awesome people. If you haven't seen their blogs yet, go check them out and say hello! And friends, if I haven't met you already, hopefully one day I will get to! Thank you for being you!


1. Sarah IS Sarah Cool
2. Anne is A Little Bit Crazy (hehe)
3. Jean's life is A Slice of the Epic
4. Katrina writes Notes on a Napkin
5. Melissa, who's Part of Everything
6. Africa Bleu's life - full of Pith, Marrow, and Coffee Spoons
7. Slush of Slush Turtle
8. Heather's always got One More Last Word
9. Shelli is The Singing Banker
10. Denney the Beatnik Poet

Leespea gets one, too, of course! :)

First Camping Trip of the Year: SUCCESS! (part 2)

Missed part one? Go here!

I last left off with us being totally safe and obedient of all signage around the lodge "ruins." *ahem* For some reason we decided it would be a good idea to scale the wall on the way back instead of using the path. Um, yeah. Oh well, we made it out safe and sound.

Danger? What danger?

Trudy and Laurie had left from the park to go visit one of Laurie's friends, so the rest of us headed back to our camp. Two more of Jon and Reg's friends were there, and we quickly got back to our silliness on the beach. I learned all about a number of different skills that were possible involving fire, pop bottles, and rocks: chicken farts, exploding pop bottles in the fire, and the "happy birthday sausage." That last one is what happens when you're trying to roast a piece of sausage over the fire and the fire burns through your stick, thus dropping the sausage on the ground and leaving a still-burning piece of stick lodged in the meat. It looks just like a wee little birthday candle!

But most fun of all was the diet coke and mentos experiment. Oh yes! You've all seen it on YouTube, no? Put a pack of mentos into a bottle of coke and BOOM! Holy foamy Coke geyser, Batman! Jon tried his first and it was spectacular!

Reg had another plan. He wanted to put the mentos in the bottle then quickly screw on the cap, throw it in the air, and let the pressure that had built up in the bottle and the shock of the bottle hitting the ground work together to create a spectacular explosion of coke and foam and awesomeness. We devised a plan, interviewed Reg, got the cameras rolling (two videos and me on the rapid fire setting), and went for it! IN went the mentos. ON went the cap. UP went the bottle. DOWN came the bottle. "DUCK!" yelled the people....

and BOUNCE! went the bottle.

Reg and Coda the dog ran after it to try it again. UP! DOWN! DUCK! ...

BOING!

And again! UP! DOWN! DUCK! ...

BOING!

This carried of for quite some time. Eventually Reg tried throwing it against something hard. A large driftwood log. It bounced right back at him, nearly taking him out.

And so commenced the "pelt it with rocks" strategy... which also didn't work. But boy, did they try! Eventually the "throw it against something hard" strategy and the "pelt it with rocks" strategy were combined.

Also to no avail. Enter Peter to assist.

Still no luck. That coke bottle - now scratched, dented, and the label almost totally torn off - WOULD JUST NOT BREAK.

We pretty much all had tears streaming down our faces from laughing so hard. At least, I did! It was hysterical. Eventually the bottle was put out of its misery. One large rock pummeled down at close range finally busted that thing open.

VICTORY!

Hmm... not so hysterical reading about it? Trust me, it was FUNNY!


That evening we did some more exploring. Jon took me through the craziest little path through the bushes to the top of the waterfall... it was only about three feet tall so we had to kinda crouch walk. It felt like we were travelling through an enchanted thicket and would arrive out the other side in some kind of fairy tale! The river on top was gorgeous - grooves and deep holes carved in the rock by the flowing river with a view out to the ocean. Very cool! Back at camp, we enjoyed some more campfiring, conversationning, and playing with fire before heading to bed. Note: Camp fuel on the fire makes for spectacular fireballs, and there IS a way to put a plastic pop bottle in the flames and not have it melt. Check.

The next morning we went back up the magical mystical path to the river above the falls and played with Coda the dog for a bit before packing up (in the rain!) and heading back to civilization to clean up and catch the ferry home. (Why, oh why did I have SO! MUCH! STUFF!?!)

The weekend was definitely a big highlight of my last few months. It was SO nice to just get away and relax - no worries, no work, no chores, no errands, just play, play, play. And I was so happy to meet some really great people! Peter and Bronwyn, Reg and Faa, and Jon - they were all so much fun! And of course, Trudy and Laurie - there's ALWAYS fun and fantasticity where they're involved!

Here's to friends, here's to camping, here's to God's awesome creation!

Full photo set here.

I carried a watermelon?!?

Oy vey, do dumb things come out of my mouth. Or, more accurately, just a LOT of things come out of my mouth. I basically talked Dooce's ear off. Go me.

So yes, I really did go meet Heather and Jon Armstrong tonight down at Granville Island tonight. I stood in line for over an hour - but that's ok - there lots of cool people in the lineup to talk to. First impression: wow, are they ever tall! And beautiful. They were super laid back, despite having been there for two and a half hours talking to dozens of strangers. Hmm... I'm trying to remember what we chatted about. What they were going to do in Vancouver, how great blogging is for meeting cool people (Anne, Jean, and Sarah, I told her about our Chicago weekend, etc), and random chit chat about Chuck, Coco, and Leta (dog, dog, daughter, in that order). But mostly I just randomly talked at her.

Hehehe, I'm such a geek! :)

First Camping Trip of the Year: SUCCESS! (part 1)

I can't even remember the last time I had this much fun on a camping trip. Surely you know me by now: I'm all for finding wacky ways of having fun and always up for an adventure. This weekend was both, and in a variety of ways!

When I told my friend Jon that my plans for camping this long weekend seemed to be falling through, he saved the day and invited me and my eager-to-go-camping friends to head over to the island and join him and some of his friends for the weekend. Score! This long weekend wasn't gonna be a bust after all!

So off we headed - my friends Trudy, Laurie, and I - braving the ferries of insanity, and arrived in Victoria around 10am on Saturday. We headed downtown for some sightseeing, ridiculously overpriced sandwiches, a free concert on the lawn of the Legislative buildings, wandering around in the beautiful Beacon Hill Park (which would have been made more complete with a stop off to pet some baby goats at the petting zoo... but not for three bucks! Baby goats should be FREE to pet, darnit! Aw well, you can't have everything, I suppose!) and some time goofing around with slurpies and cameras on Mount Douglas, high above the city.

After a day of chillaxing in the crazy hot weather (uh, mental note: wear SUNSCREEN. My nose and forehead look rather reptilian right now. "Hello, I'm Hillary, and my NOSE IS FLAKING OFF." Cuuuute.), Jon picked up his friends Reg and Faa from the ferry and we set off for the beach. Two cars and a set of walkie talkies between us made for an amusing drive, even though we DID forget all the fruit and veggies we had JUST BOUGHT in Jon's fridge. D'OH

A short walk down a forested path led us to a long stretch of rocky beach strewn with logs pounded smooth by the sea and sparsely dotted with tents and campfires. We walked down the beach far enough to be away from other people and set up camp, clearing away the large rocks to make a somewhat flat place for our tents and gathering driftwood for the spectacular campfire that would burn for three days straight.

I woke up early-ish the next morning and headed out to sit by the water for a while. It was a sunny morning, though the wind was still cool. It was so, so refreshing to just sit, listening to the waves rolling the stones back and forth underneath them, and to look out across the water to the mountains on the other side. I cracked my Bible open to the Psalms and reminded myself of God's presence and God's character.

Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD;
___let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving
___and extol him with music and song.
For the LORD is the great God,
___the great King above all gods.
In his hand are the depths of the earth,
___and the mountain peaks belong to him.
The sea is his, for he made it,
___and his hands formed the dry land...
Psalm 95:1-5

As most people were still not up, I decided to go for a walk to the waterfalls back down the beach a ways. I'd seen pictures before, but in the morning sun, they were spectacular. They weren't very high, but the greenery of the forest behind them against the grey-black stones of the beach and blue sky, and the sunlight catching the mist as the water fell to the ground... it took my breath away. I only wish the photos I took could do it justice.

Once everyone got up, we had breakfast and set out to do some serious playing. We (and by "we" I mean "the others") built a wall to protect the fire from the wind. We contemplated why a lone carpenter ant would continue to try to walk INTO the fire (perhaps the same reason a monkey would eat a screw?). And then we set up our kites. Loop-de-loops, dive-bombs, kite crashes, and bull kelp for tails kept us amused for quite some time.

We went into town for lunch and then headed up to Sooke Potholes - a park that follows a river along narrow, rushing channels and large, calm pools. We saw a deer, flocks of tiny blue butterflies (flocks? What do you call a group of butterflies???), and I even caught a frog - but not before the poor froggie tried numerous times to kamikaze suicide jump out of my grasp! Sorry little froggie!!!! We sunned ourselves on the rocks and participated in some general tomfoolery which may or may not have included splashing people with freezing cold river water and poking each other with sticks. The hike was beautiful, but I think the most interesting part of the afternoon was heading up to the site of what was to become the Deer Trail Resort.

Twenty years ago or so, a developer decided he wanted to build a resort way up the canyon and high above the river. Construction began, but the area just wasn't suited to that kind of construction and the developer went bankrupt, leaving a half-completed chateau high up in the hills. The spectacular stone chimneys and fireplaces are still there, as are stairs, arches and walls of what would have been a beautiful structure. The large wooden beams have since rotted away or been taken out, but the stone remains. The whole site looks like the ruins of a castle!

Of course there are danger signs all around and it's fenced off with barbed wire... but that didn't exactly stop us, especially considering there's one section of fence you can just walk around, follow a trail along the back of the site, and voila! You're inside! What's life without a little bit of adventure, anyway? Ummm... I mean... we were TOTALLY SAFE and obeyed ALL SIGNS. Yup. Uh-huh. That's what we did...

Part two to follow. Full photo set here.

It's official. I am the biggest nerd in the whole wide world.

Why, you say? Because I'm thinking of heading down to Granville Island tomorrow evening for a meet-and-greet with DOOCE, the Utah blogger who has officially arrived as "queen of the blogosphere."

Yes. I really did just admit I'm going out of my way to go meet. a. famous. blogger. BUT she's a famous blogger who ranks Vancouver as the "coolest place she's ever been." BOOYEAH!

Um, I'm going to go hang my head in shame now...

Tales from the cave

We're beginning a new unit at school. Part of the grade 2 curriculum is to compare and contrast how life was in the late 1800s to what life is like now. There's a perfect chapter book called "Matt and Jenny" that follows the adventures of, you guessed it, Matt and Jenny, as they find themselves transported back to the Vancouver of 1886. Before I began reading the book today, we did the math to find out how many years ago that was, and then I asked the kids what they thought life was like a-waaay back then, just to see what they'd say. The results were hilarious!

What do you think toys were like in 1886?
- they didn't HAVE toys back then, Miss Hillary!
- sticks and rocks
- toys made of mud

What do you think transportation was like in 1886?
- they rode goats! (J. - seriously! That was the first thing out of their mouths! What IS it with goats???)
- they didn't have cars back then.
- no, they rode motorcycles!

What do you think school was like in 1886?
- in a cave!
- they went to the beach and instead of paper they wrote with sticks in the sand
- in a building with walls and no roof
- they didn't have to go to school! There was nothing to learn
- ... I wish *I* lived in those olden days!

Oh, how those rugrats crack me up!

Say WHAT?

I don't travel on the ferries to and from Vancouver Island all that much, but I do it enough to know the standard announcements that they make:

"Would all passengers please return to their vehicles for boarding."
"Would the driver of a such-and-such car, licence blahbitty blah blah please return to the vehicle deck."
"Attention passengers. The ship's whistle will now sound." [Which, by the way, even when I *know* it's coming, still makes me jump right out of my skin.]

Etc. Etc. Etc. You know, the mundane "get buisness done" type of announcements.

Well this was the long weekend, aka WEEKEND OF FERRY INSANITY.

First there were the lineups. Even reservations were crazy, but we made it on. I was a walk-on passenger on the way home, and there was even a one sail wait for WALK-ONS. Insanity, I tell you. Insanity! The lineup wound back and forth throught the entrance area and then began winding its way out into the parking lot. We were aiming for the 6pm ferry. Ha! Not likely. We weren't even sure we'd get the 7.

And then there was transportation. Um, an over 200-person lineup for a transit bus that holds max 60 people? Yeeeeeah. I ended up splitting a cab with two other people who thankfully and awesomely lived really close to me. Hooray!

But back to the announcements. The more people you have, the more the chance of wacky things happening, I guess, and the more craziness you have to put out over the PA.

"Just a message to the people playing with a green frisbee in the parking lot. Your frisbee just hit a car. Your game is now over."

Them ferry people. They don't let anyone have any fun! heh. And what was that? Threat? Statement of fact? Did the ferry gods confiscate the frisbee and just wanted to let them know? A not-so-subtle way of asking them to stop? Whatever. It made us laugh!

"Please may we have your attention for an important announcement. We have reached maximum capacity in the cafeteria on this sailing. If there are people who are finished their meals, not eating, or PLAYING CARDS, please vacate the cafeteria to make room for other patrons."

Yes, those italics, caps, and bolding are necessary to convey the force of the words and the disgust behind them. Let me see... finished eating? OK. Not eating? OK. I think that covers playing cards. I pity whoever it was that was sitting down for a little game of gin rummy. Trying to have some fun, then SHAMED OUT OF YOUR SEATS by the ferry announcers. Hehehe!

But the best one was as we were walking off. "Would the passenger who left a package of fresh meat please return to the info desk to pick it up? I repeat, please come pick up your fresh meat. We. don't. want. it."

I don't even know what to say about that one. Freeeesh meat! It was an interesting ride, that's for sure.

Of course in between the moments of ferry insanity was the WEEKEND OF TOTAL AWESOMENESS. More details to come!

a BOO HISS and a WOO HOO

BOO HISS. I got my letter yesterday. The one telling me that my five years at my awesome school is now over. I'd be crying about it if I wasn't so irked at a few aspects of how it all came down. Oh don't worry. There will be plenty of tears to come. More on this later. I don't really want to talk about it.

WOO HOO. Make that a double WOO!!!!! HOO!!!!! With superfluous exclamation points!!!!! And bold lettters!!! This weekend is a long weekend, and I'm going away for the first official camping trip of the year. Some friends and some friends of friends and I are all going to head off to a little known beach, pitch our tents, and have ourselves some serious fun. No campground, no other people (I hope!)... and, er, no bathrooms, but hey, that's what the forest is for... right? I'm excited to be outside, I'm excited to get to fall alseep listening to the ocean, I'm excited to just relax, I'm excited to find some goofy shenanigans to busy ourselves with, I'm excited to have some early morning time with God at the water's edge, I'm excited to get some great photos, and I'm excited to meet some awesome new people (here's lookin' at you!).

Our location is secret. If I told you, I'd HAVE to kill you. Well, ok, maybe not, but still. Too bad! I'm keeping this one to myself! :) But here's a few photos of the beach (photos link back to the people who took them. And yes, Melissa, I fully expect an email later on telling me that you found out what beach. Ready? GO! *grin*). I'll post photos of my own in the next few days.

The cookies are baked, the tent is hauled out of storage, and I'm off! Have a great weekend!

Boot Camp!

I've succumbed to the insanity once again and have been going to boot camp three days a week for the last four weeks or so now. It's a different one than I did last year - more of a circuit thing with all kinds of different equipment - medicine balls, resistance bands, skipping ropes, agility ladders... tire innards filled with sand that we haul around whilst running stairs or doing wind sprints.

Yeah. BOOT. CAMP. It's intense.

BUT, as I've done many times before (like this and this, for example), what I do is take something that I'm doing in my own life and incorporate it into the classroom. In this case, I'm running "PRIII-MA-RY! BOOT! CAMP!" for my kids in gym this month. We have stations like jumping jacks and push ups, and coordination stations where they throw a ball against a wall and try to catch it, co-operation stations where they have to work together to pass a ball from side to side... all kinds of good stuff! After each station we all circle up and do a group activity together for a minute or so. Today I had them squat down like they were sitting in a chair and then run in place really fast. Every now and then I'd yell "LIE DOWN!" "GET UP!" or other random directions.

They L-O-V-E-D it! The giggles, the squeals! It was SO much fun! I had a big hand drum I took into the gym with me, and at the end of each station, as my "stop" signal, I'd bang it: BOOM BA-DA BOOM BOOM! and the kids would all shout back in the same rhythm, "PRI-MA-RY BOOT CAMP!"

They get to yell, they get to move, and *I* get to tire them out! Man, even I was breaking a sweat today!

But I tell you, these kids are SO funny trying to do these exercises. Balls flying everywhere, skipping ropes tripping them up, and the push up station. OOOOH the push up station. Ever watched a 7 year old try to do a push up?

There's the butt in air version, the lie on the ground and lift your shoulders in the air version, the kneel on all fours and just dip your chin to the ground version... all of which are hilarious and so, so cute.

Gotta keep doing boot camp, if only for comic relief!

It's all downhill from here

Stopped at stoplight on my way to tutoring last night, I was fiddling with my hair when I saw a curious sight. One hair seemed to be really, really blonde. This is strange, as I am definitely NOT a blonde. Highlights, maybe, but this was even lighter than that. So I isolated it and yanked it out. To my horror, I found that it was NOT just really blonde.

It was grey.

GREY!!!

I had found my first grey hair. It's inevitable, I suppose, but right then, sitting in my car at Clark and King Ed, a little part of me died inside.

*sob*
*giggle!*

Banging my head on my desk

"He/She's not the boss."

Oh, if I had a dime for every time I've said those words this year. Today, I felt like if I had to say them one. more. time. my head was going to explode.

"Miiiyuss Hiiillaryyyy [in tattletale tone], so-and-so said I'm not allowed to play freeze tag with them at recess!"
He's not the boss. Of course you can play.

Miiiyuss Hiiillaryyyy, so-and-so's not letting me play with the lego!"
She's not the boss. You don't have to ask permission.

"Miiiyuss Hiiillaryyyy, so-and-so keeps telling me to be quiet!"
To so-and-so: You're not the boss!

A student gets up from the carpet and goes to sit at his desk.
Where are you going?
"So-and-so said that was three [his last chance] and told me to go back to my desk."
Come back and sit down, please. To so-and-so: Are you the boss?

You're not the boss. He's not the boss. She's not the boss.

And don't even get me started on "It's not a race."

GAH!

Un-beLIEVEable

As much as my class is frustrating at times, I cannot believe how much I have enjoyed this year of teaching as compared to other years. (No, no, it's not over yet, but we ARE coming down the home stretch!) I never thought I'd be a primary girl, but turns out I am! I love it! It's more concrete, I feel more comfortable, I'm not overwhelmed to the cusp of burnout with all the marking...

I love all that I've learned about teaching this year, and have been saying how much I'm looking forward to finally getting to do the same job again next year. For once, I won't have to change. For once I get to take all the mistakes I've made and the learning I've done this year and apply it next year. With five years seniority and people with less under me at my school now, things should be fairly stable for next year.

Should being the operative word. Turns out that's not so much the case.

The principal called me into her office yesterday to talk about something. As soon as she asked me to take a seat, I had flashbacks to last year. When she bagan with, "We've been looking at staffing for next year..." I knew what was coming and my heart sunk like a ton of bricks. If everything remains as it is, I will be surplussed at the end of this year. This means that, while I still have a job, I won't be at my school and I will be doing whatever job is given to me, basically. Could be intermediate, could be prep, could be two different jobs at two different schools... anything. And most likely I'll be subbing full time till something comes up. How does this happen? Well it turns out that the person who is more junior to me was surplussed last year from a different job, and so now is protected from being surplussed for three years. They just move to the next junior person. Hi, hello, how are you doing?

'Member last year? I just finished posting about how much I was loving my job one Friday afternoon when the principal called me down to tell me the same freakin' thing?

Nothing is official yet, but there are even fewer options to potentially avoid being surplussed available to me than there were last year. Last year there were a few: take a K class, move to French Immersion, and the surprise option of my friend changing districts and freeing up the class I have now... Not so this year. There might be one job available in French, but it's back in intermediate, and not only am I not confident enough in my French to teach in intermediate, I don't want to go back to the upper grades. Not only that, every book, every resource that I've bought over the last five years would be completely useless, as they're all in English. I've invested waaaay too much money (seriously. It's obsene.) to move to French now. No way.

The thing is, I SO love my school. I've been there for five years now. Five years of getting to know people, of developing relationships, of knowing every kid in the school from when I used to teach them all music. Five years of the most wonderful people I could ever want to work with - and I really don't say that lightly. I have been SO blessed this year to have the teaching partners that I have. They are amazing - their support, expertise, encouragement, ideas, generosity, and friendship... they have blown me away. Our school is special (heh, and I'm not just biased!). Everyone who comes to work there (new staff, employees on call, volunteers, etc) comments on what a warm, freindly school it is and on how great the kids are. We have our challenges, of course, but I so love this place.

I don't think I'm even really processing the idea of leaving yet. I guess I'll wait till it's official, but even thinking about it makes me so, so, incredibly sad. And frustrated, too. Five years of doing soemthing different every. single. year. There are NO guarantees I'll get the grade I want next year. It'll be starting all over YET AGAIN, but this time not only with the job but in a whole new community. I don't know if I can do it. The thought of it exhausts me to no end.

Talk about a kick in the gut when I'm down.

UGH.

Suh-wamped!

Seriously. How do I allow my life to get so insane? Staff meetings, tutoring, dance lessons, housework, Bible study, boot camp, running, working late, seminars, computer shtuff... arg!

On the other hand, I'm finally getting caught up on some of the photos I've been needing to upload, sort, and *shock!* will maybe even post a few soon! I've also finished adding the rest of my "teaching tales" to the archives now we've got our own little secret club going on here (sheesh). A few more stories that I never got around to finishing are now up.

And also? Babies! Babies everywhere!!! There are currently four... no, wait... five? teachers from my school off on mat leave, and at least one more who's pregnant. And an old boyfriend who I'm still friends with - he and his wife just had a baby girl. Two more good friends are expecting - one with baby #2, one with baby #3. AND one of my very best friends just had her first one week ago today! Baby Moses! I got to go visit them in the hospital and hold the wee bundle of pure sweetness when he was only 15 hours old. I want one!!! :) (Well, I want a few other things first, but you know what I mean!)

Oh yeah, and along the lines of boy-stuff? Seriously. I'm open to suggestions. Heh!

Hmm. I suppose I should go eat, seeing as it's nearly 9:00. I'm hoping to get some fun pics up soon! Like, later tonight. Cause that will be WAY more fun than housework!

*grin!*

Happy Earth Day!

What??? Earth Day was two weeks ago, you say? Well not according to my bulletin board, it's not. My kidlets did a big huge writing project a few days before the real Earth Day, but because I'm not as quick on my feet as I'd like to be, I didn't start it in time for them to get if finished by the actual day. But that's ok, it was all done by the Friday after Earth Day.

As with all projects they work really hard on, I promised them that I'd put their writing up on the bulletin board outside our classroom, and they were excited about it being showcased. I didn't get to it on Friday, as I was at a workshop at the board all day. I had no time to take down the current bulletin board and put up the new one. Monday was an after school staff meeting. Tuesday I was dealing with this work situation till late. Wednesday I had to leave early to go tutoring. Turns out I was away on Thursday and Friday of last week, too. Yesterday was another meeting, so today... finally today, I got a chance to put up the Earth Day projects.

Two full weeks after Earth Day.

No problemo. The title accross the bulletin board? "EVERY Day Is Earth Day For Div. 21!"

Heh. What're ya gonna do? I tried, I really did!

Chasing Worms and other random things

Once upon a time, long ago and far away, I read some children's book that had something to do with chasing nightcrawlers. Big, fat, juicy worms. I'd heard of them, but I'd never seen them. Oh, I'd seen the regular ol' earthworms - usually dried up on the sidewalk from a sunny day after the rain. And just recently I've become slightly fascinated with the red wiggler worms we have in our class worm bin/composter. But those guys are tiny.

Nothing prepared me for the sight I saw last night around 10pm when my friend Trudy and I left her house to get a movie. It had been raining most of the day, and was still drizzling a little bit. We noticed on the sidewalk that there were these weird stick things coming out of the grass. Immediately we realized that they were worms, but good golly, these were the biggest worms I'd ever seen in my life. And there were DOZENS of them.

So we did what anybody would do... we poked them! And Zzzzip! They disappeared into the grass. But FAST! Holy smokes those things move quickly.

Well, that just became in invitation to try to catch them. After some girly squealing about "Ewww! They're sliiiimy! Eeeeek!" we set out trying to pick them up. Well, Trudy tried to pick them up. I just poked them to watch how fast they'd zip into their little holes. I can handle holding hte little ones, but worms this big? Holy heebie jeebies, batman!

It was then we noticed in the damp, cropped grass and the glow of the streetlight that they were EVERYWHERE! Hundreds of them - all over the top of the grass, all over the sidewalk, all over EVERYWHERE. The fattest, longest, quickest squirmy wormies I'd ever seen!

Trudy commented that it was little like a sci-fi movie, and that very likely she'd have nightmares. Invasion of the Killer Nightcrawlers, anyone? Worms, multiplying all over the grass, poking their little wormie heads up, waving them around, sensing out their next victim! Run! Run for your liiiives!

Ahem.

Trudy decided she needed something better to grip, so I gave her a Safeway receipt. "Cause if I squish too hard, I won't get worm juice all over my fingers!" She got one, but only cause I think she pulled it in half.

Ummm... or maybe he was just really short. Heh.

We did eventually get our movie - Lars and the Real Girl. Oh my word, hilarious and sweet and so very, very aaaaawkwaaaaard - but not until we'd hunted worms for at LEAST 20 minutes. In the rain. Soaked jeans and backs. Most likely more than one passerby who thought we were slightly crazy.

And then we ate mass quantities of chocolate peanut butter cup fudge ice cream with topped with strawberries and bananas.

Life is good. :)

Commenting

The change to private for my blogeroonie here is requiring a few adjustments (one being that ME NO LIKEY!). Another is in commenting. If you have a google/blogger account, just email me with the email associated with it and I'll send you an invite under your own account. Then you can comment and it shows up as you.

If you're using the account *I* created, I just realized there's no way of knowing who you are cause there are multiple users. You may like it that way. No problemo. But if you don't want your name to show up as "Invited Reader," then just under the comment box, choose the "Name/URL" button and you can enter your name and (surprise!) your URL if you have one.

Voila? Voila!