What I want to do when I grow up.........

When you think about the teachers who made a difference in your life, whose manner, messages and presence continues to influence the learning spark inside you,  don't you wonder how they managed to do it?  To be "on" day in and day out in front of a group of people is almost impossible to fathom, and that's what it takes to be the kind of facilitator who inspires students. Their enthusiasm for the subject matter as well as their desire to spark the fire in the hearts and minds of their brood of students must waver from time to time, but somehow they keep it tucked inside while shining on.  Sadly, our educational system is littered with more ho-hums and burn outs than passion.

Every time I step into the classroom to teach, my respect and appreciation for the passionate instructors re-ignites.  It gives me that unique opportunity to stand in their shoes and to recognize just how difficult it would be to engage like that for an extended period of time.  They deserve far more that what we pay them, and earn every single summer day off.

The type of facilitating I'm involved in however is different because it has a short beginning and end, which allows for me to burst with energy rather than find an ebb and flow pace one would need to survive for an extended period of time. In order to be in a classroom every single day, you'd have to find a completely different balance or you would burn out so quickly.  It's been 20 years since I pulled off full time teaching.  I loved it then.  Thrived even.  At that point in my life I was in a much different place in my life...... no children, MUCH younger, less responsibility outside of the classroom.  I wonder if I could pull it off now.  I wonder if I'd like to.  

This is where I am in my thinking tonight as I sit here reflecting on just how exhausted I was at the end of the workday.  For the past two days I taught a program called "Non Violent Crisis Intervention."  It's a "canned" program designed to be delivered exactly how its laid out in a manual.  With the trademark terms and the specific techniques leading the learning, its the kind of training I find the most demanding, because it leaves very little wiggle room to facilitate with the kind of freedom I prefer.  

Usually after I wrap up a workshop I'm pumped. Tired, but pumped.  Instead, I came home tonight completely void of any energy.  I felt used up and wordless..... not a good thing when you have loved ones in your life who deserve more than a person whose only focus is on finding a good comfortable spot on the couch to crash into lalala land.  Ok, I fed them first.  But, I did it in silence.  Then, I crashed.......slept through the early evening time when I should be focus on my family.  

Granted, I'm just getting over a cold and I have so many other thoughts pulsating inside my head vying for my focused attention.  I was also teaching a topic I wasn't too keen on or felt completely competent with the subject matter. Still,  I wonder if I would be up for the challenge of taking on a classroom of learners full time.   It's difficult to say.  As much as I love teaching, the other component one has to consider is how taxing it is on one's freedom. Though the counselling I am involved in on most days is intensely draining and there is little down time, I have control over my schedule. Leading a group of students through a full program is very structured time wise.  Would I be able to surrender those reins at this point in my life?  Would I want to? 

I think I would like my cake and eat it too.  Half time counselling, half time in the classroom.  The way I see it, this combination would be the ideal fit for me.  I could see how it would balance as well as challenge my skills.  OH,  who am I kidding.  If I had my choice?  I'd be rich enough not to have to work full time in any form of structured environment.  I would write, travel, teach when I wanted to, counsel when I wanted to.  And if I wanted to walk endlessly beside the calm tide of a warm body of water, I'd do that too................. Friends and family?  Please join me. :)   The first round of umbrella drinks is on me.

one giant leap for mankind...

40 years ago today, I was 8 years old, staying at a rented cottage near Haliburton, Ontario with my Mom and Dad and my two younger sisters aged 3 1/2 and 3 months. At that point in her newbie life, my youngest sister was the baby from hell. I think Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin could probably hear her collicky wails from the moon. Our temporary cottage neighbours definitely could. Luckily one of them was a doctor and prescribed a drug to calm her down. I think it was a narcotic. Nowadays, we grin and bear collicky babes. Back then, we drugged them.

Our vacation that summer continues to be dredged up during conversations when nostalgic family vacations are served up. The unnerving wails that literally kept us awake, especially my Mom night after night was only part of it. The cottage, nestled on the shores of Blue Lake turned out to be a sham of sorts. It had been advertised by the owners as a comfortable haven with all the amenities including a fresh water clean lake perfect for swimming. I think they even sent my Dad photos. Needless to say, it did not live up to its description. The cottage was pretty bare and all of the furniture was primitive uncomfortable. No comfort was found. And the lake? It was the colour of murky green algae complete with slimey reeds and muck on the bottom. I recall a water snake hovering around the dock too.

This was my Mother's worst nightmare, and I think it was the last nail in the coffin of ever considering the idea of buying a cottage.....something my Father has lobbied for years. Blue Lake continues to be the benchmark for how a vacation destination can go awry. Everyone laughs about it now ..... and I bet it was discussed today in my childhood home as the world recognizes the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11's successful landing on the moon. It was most certainly what I've been thinking about today. Why? Because the other memorable part of this trip was watching the fuzzy screen of our black and white TV which had accompanied us for the sole purpose of watching Neil Armstrong take that first step on the Moon's surface.

The TV reception was very poor.......you could just make out a blurry outline of Armstrong and every now and then the picture would clear a bit more. But, we had sound.....and we were connected to millions of others who were also absorbing this unbelievable feat.

It's difficult to describe to anyone who wasn't born then how monumental the event was at the time. Given that the space program basically fizzled out and trips to the Moon and proposed attempts to reach Mars was shelved after Apollo 17, this remarkable feat lost its grand enormity in the annals of history. Plus, there's an almost lax attitude, 40 years later...... one that almost dismisses the importance of the event. But, on that day when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin donned their big bulking space gear and bounced off the steps of the module..........the whole world held its breath in awe and excitement.

Anything seemed possible then.....even quieting a collicky baby.

ps. My baby sister, who had her own 40th birthday this year did stop crying is the quietest of us all. I guess she got it out of her system early. :) She and her family are coming east for a visit next week. I can't wait to see them all. I hope we'll have a chance to sit outside to enjoy the nightsky together....and I will rehash the story she has never been able to live down.

the first star i see tonight....

twilight along the trans canada

where the skies yawn pale pastels tucked above the low cloud front

where front porches smile their welcome in an amber glow

where the sweet aroma of smoke lifts in curls from old kitchen woodstoves

where pulp mills belch out smoking dragons held hostage in the bitter air

where lonely steeples stand on tiptoes above rooftops

where tracks of snow machines weave

between the snowladen evergreens and criss cross in fields of freedom

twilight along the trans canada

where silos erect and proper sit silent in their protection

where abandoned tractors sleep until spring

where the warm growthlight of greenhouses whisper hope

where the expansive sky darkens in tangled blues

where the bilingual signs announce, express, direct....

bienvenue....au revoir.....

Hartland

Grand Falls

Edmunston

Cabano

Notre Dame du Lac

St. Louis de Ha Ha!

Riviere du Loup

Rimouski

up and down along the dotted lines

into valleys alive with homes under twinkling streetlights

over crests of darkened woods and farmland covered in snow

past dieseled double trailer trucks moving in tandem

inside the comfort of our vehicle filled with familiar and loved music

accompanied by the reliable north star beside us

shining bright even before evening pulls down its deep blue shade

we move westward as one.

twilight along the trans canada

where every hill announces a poetic vista

of rolling hills shorn of summer green

of snow dappled evergreens

we find ourselves tucking in to sleep

between here and there.

I would love to travel my particular portion of the Trans Canada Highway one day with someone who has never been to this enormous country, or has never experienced a major highway that isn't congested with other vehicles. In the daytime, one can see some of the most beautiful scenery. At night when you move onto part of the highway which isn't lit by the glamour of bright lights, you can see a sky FULL of stars and a smiling moon...so close you feel you are a part of them.

expressive bits

The photographic theme this week over at Carmi's place is Signs. I couldn't decide which one to post, so decided to take you on a little tour of my happy wanderings when I visited London and Canterbury in May. I tried to grab the "best bits" from the many photos I took......many of the signs and their locations tickled my warped sense of humour. Enjoy. And thank you Carmi for giving me the opportunity to unload, upload and share.

Pilgrim's Way, Canterbury

Who praytell is that pilgrim in the bright blue hightops?

Could it be my emerald friend?





I love the disconnect here.
A medieval dunking chair for wayward ladies.
And a modern reference to fast food.
loveitloveit.















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love the names of the pubs

Canada, eh?

Gateway to the Green from Buckingham Palace to Picadilly

I was standing in line in the WH Smith store in the Gatwick Airport with a bunch of last minute goodies in my hand when the fire alarm went off and an announcement over the public address system told all of us to vacate the area. It was kind of scary, but I did as I was told and followed the other lemming touristas down a hall to what I thought would be an exit. Instead, it was a long walk to another part of the terminal with no airport employee to meet us or to direct us or to tell us what was going on.

Along the way, I ended up talking with a young woman East End of London who was heading to St. Lucia. We chatted about how disorganized things seemed and whether or not we would be forced outside and whether or not our flights would be late in taking off. Before we were told, we turned around to head back to the area from whence we had begun this journey of hallways and tunnels (with 500 other folks..........we werent the only ones not attending to the one announcement we had all followed). On our way back, we shared a bit about our trips............mine to return to Canada and she to visit friends and relatives.

Then she asked the question............... "What's Canada like?"

I am not someone who spends much time whining about the fact that most of our neighbours south of the border have no real clear picture of who we are and what this vast and magnificent country is all about like so many Canucks. This is a pasttime for some.............a way of trying to figure out our identity by pointing out the differences. I've travelled enough in the United States particularly to have had my share of bizarre conversations with people, some of whom live within a baseball throw of the shared border. Not a lick of knowledge.......... and as much as i find that strange, especially from people who live near the border, I certainly don't lose sleep over it.

Outside Canada house, beside Trafalgar Square

I'm cognizant of the lack of information provided through news and in schools etc about this country. On the grand scale of global things, our role is minor. Yes, we may be a member of the G8, and unless something changed today, we are active members of the British Commonwealth. But, we arent ever going to be a big player........... we aren't going to be the ones picking the music at the dance. Ah, but we will be there to dance!

I didn't expect this in England though. I don't know why, but I guess I kind of thought there would be some awareness and knowledge of my home and native land. Given the historical links, the same parlimentary system, basically the same social welfare system, our penchant for the same kind of humour..........the fact that the Rolling Stones played a pivotal role in our political history by partying in the 70's with Trudeau's crazy hippy dippy wife..........given that Old Bessie's profile is on our currency..........that we probably love dogs just as much......... I guess I thought I wouldn't be asked the broad questions.

Travelling I have found offers me a chance to re-visit my own interpretation of what it is to be a Canadian and of what Canada is all about. Though there is usually some goofy article in the newspaper on a pretty regular basis harping on this very thing, I personally don't spend much time navel gazing on our identity until I am standing somewhere outside of the border. And it is then that I have such a strong surge go through me when I realize just how damn lucky I am. As much as I would LOVE to spend time living in Notting Hill (fell in LOVE with the area). As much as I know I would LOVE to live in many places around the world, I can't ever imagine calling any place but this country home. This feeling is always strengthened when I have a chance to be someplace besides here. Maybe everyone feels that way when they have had an opportunity to leave their familiar borders.

I loved my week retreat...................my week of seeking and being on my own in the UK. I felt comfortable, connected and happily ensconced in the welcome arms of my bloggie friends......so much so that it felt like we've known each other forever. Though there are many differences between the UK and Canada, there are enough similarities to give a wayward Canuck the confidence to explore on her own, and to seek out the differences. I guess I assumed that this was a known thing........... it certainly didn't bother me, but it did fascinate me.

What's Canada like?



How does one answer that without spewing forth some psychological/political/philosophical thesis?
ummmmmm..................



We like hockey? Though some don't believe it or not.....

There are a lot of lakes?

Anne of Green Gables is only a fictional character but would probably do well if she ran for Prime Minister, but she'd never ever beat our classy sassy Don Cherry?

We export Divas and Comedians? For the record (mine anyways, you can keep Celine)

The majority of us own toques..............and know what they are used for?

Atlantic, Pacific, Arctic...............Rockies, Great Lakes, and lots and lots of trees?

Beavers, Moose, Deer, Loons and Geese............most of which share our currency with the Queen.

We are into a thing called a musical ride........just ask any Mountie.....


Our greatest hero was a young man who tried to run across the country on one leg and a prosthesis?

Where does one begin? It was a wee bit daunting really to be asked this by that young woman in the airport, but I think I managed to sum it up as best as I could................

What's Canada like?

"It's vast and magnificent," I replied................"and it's home."

Prince Edward Island.

Conversation in my house today turned to summer plans, which we havent really paid much attention to yet as there have been so many other events and activities to focus on this spring. Predictably, the topic of Prince Edward Island was brought up because it is a favourite destination every August for at least a handful of days. The place we have gone to in the past 5 or 6 years is actually off the beaten path, away from Avonlea and Cavendish where the tourists flock by the thousands of camper vans full. But, nothing on PEI is very far to travel to.

I took the above photo on a quiet Sunday morning.....early...........I had the beach to myself. There wasn't much of a breeze and the only sounds were the seagulls and the cottager behind where i was perched on a large rock who was in his cottage playing the blues on his sax.

Up to three other families have joined us at the same time, in an area where one of our friends has a family cottage.....an area he knows well because this is where his roots are. We all rent our own cottages.........the bare necessity kind of cottages, all within a baseball throw from one another.......ALL with views of the beach, the sunsets, the spectacular every changing sea and sky vistas...........where the wind blows familiarity and rejuvenation. This is my daughter Martha.

The beaches in this area rarely have many other visitors except the handfull of cottagers who seem to frequent mostly on the weekends. There is space, space, space. This is a place of serenity, companionship, good walks, great talks.................lots of shared meals and sometimes a rousing game of bocchi on the beach or wiffle ball behind the cottage. Its a place where the wine flows, the beer is cold, the music is on........... where kite flying end ups being a two hour gabfest standing in a field overlooking heaven. Right, Helen? :)

It is also the place where writing found me again, three summers ago while sitting in this spot. I have this photo tacked to my computer at work as inspiration. I am forever grateful.

These steps are located just to the left of the Muskoka chairs, and lead down to the beach.

We witnessed a few BIG thunderstorms last summer........this is one coming in for a landing. It walloped us! Thunder, lightening, wind, rain..............dark skies. Somehow I ended up as the only adult in the cottage with all the kids, including my daughter who is FREAKED by storms and was under the blankets..........head and all. What is so cool about storms like this is how they usually end up with rainbow endings and amazing sunsets.

Like this one......my relieved beauty beside beauty. xo

ps. For you Tim...........may you and your family start the plans to head north to the land of Anne Shirley.

A few candids, Prince Edward Island

I'm back! Refreshed and right full of frosty flavourful ideas......in fact I made a concerted attempt to capture one big idea this morning. Two hours and almost ready to click on the publish button and POOF! The whole post evaporated...........like a bubble. Gone!! So, instead, I bring you a few photos while I search for those elusive words again..........

friends and family on the island...............let the wine and song commence........



Bocci at dusk.

I hear they are considering this sport for Beijing. Of course it would include balancing a beer in one hand while throwing with aplomb with the other. It's only right.

brothers and best friends

These two wily guys meet up only once or twice a year. I love this picture because normally they are actively moving about. Here, they are sharing a chat while docking their paddle boat.

"Shining Waters" roller coaster.......it was a little gaffer, so the fear wasn't on the steep incline. Rather it was on whether or not the thing was going to fall apart! Yes, I think I caught the best faces of my brood. The highlight of the day were the water slides. Unfortunately, I took part and wasn't able to take pics at the same time. They were a BLAST!


Storms at the end of the day.........this one marched in much to our viewing pleasure. And then...............................



the storm left as quickly as it arrived....... leaving a beautiful sunset..........
Watched by a beautiful daughter.

More to come......

We're just getting started.....