CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE "Kinder" KIND.

After a week of filling in as a gym teacher, a principal and a Grade Five French Immersion teacher, here are a few interactions worth sharing.  I think so, anyway!

 

I helped a little fellow in Grade 2 clean up his dinner tray, after his chocolate milk had spilled. He says, "You're nice". I reply "Aren't all teachers nice?"

He pauses, then comments, "Yeah, but...... some I like more than others." Future diplomat there, DEFINITELY!

 

A sweet little Kindergartener comes up and says, "'Mme D., I kindly asked Sally not to play with Anna and me today".  My question was, "How would you feel if someone said that to you, even IF they said it kindly?"  Her reply?  "Well, she ISN'T kind, and we're getting tired of it!" I honestly had to ponder that a few seconds,  before I found the right words to address that remark.  Little ones can be very wise.

 

Another Grade Two sweetheart, when I commented on their lovely posters, offered this comment "Well, this is a group project, but TECHNICALLY, Ethan is doing all the work!"  They were drawing posters for a fundraiser for Lesotho, which they pronounced Lesutu.  I declared that I had always pronounced that word with the letters "o" as "o".  One little one in the group leans over to another little girl and says, "She's a French person." Well, I guess THAT explains my mis prononciation of that word!

 

This last story occurred during a Social Studies class, again in Grade Two, where I read the kids a book about how things have changed over the last fifty years - ie, cars, TVs, computers, etc.  There were many photos, which I shared with them. On the last page were pictures of three items from the Fifties. I showed the class the first one, of a radio, and asked them if they knew what that object was. In almost perfect unison, they all chimed "A TOASTER!" 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How hard is it to give blankets away to the homeless?

As it turns out, no easy task!

My good friend Listen Linda arrived for my home warming party the day before the BIG blowout, with five absolutely gorgeous handmade, heavy denim blankets for the homeless. These blankets were made by her 88 year old male friend; he has made and donated over 200 blankets in the Maritimes provinces.  There are GOOD people in this world, aren't there? So Linda arrived with this big heavy bag of blankets, an address and a mission, "Deliver to the needy".

It was a beautifully warm Friday afternoon, (for once), so off we went. On the way to the address in question, she spotted a homeless person. We decided a personal delivery would be a good thing.  As it turns out, it took us so long to get the pedestrian sign at the crosswalk, that our friend in need could easily have had time to find another address, according to Linda! 

The recipient was grateful. He shook her hand and thanked her.  We took forever to cross again at the lights. Two doors up was the Salvation Army door, which was the address Linda had been given.  I knew there wasn't a shelter there, right on the main drag, but in we went.  The poor woman at the counter did NOT understand that we had blankets to donate. It didn't matter what language we spoke. She decided we needed to speak to the "Major", so she called him (or her) and handed the phone to Linda.  Linda is trying to explain to this person, whom she doesn't understand, and they don't understand HER, our blanket situation, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. A kind, young mother, whose child recognized me as a teacher, gave me the directions to the shelter, not once, but TWICE, being ever so helpful.  I try to get Linda off the phone, gracefully, since she is getting nowhere with the person at the other end of the line. Thank goodness for people eavesdropping (LOL) on phone conversations. Linda could STILL be talking to that Major.

When I give her the directions, she busts a gut laughing because one of the streets isn't "Halfass", but it SOUNDS like it. Of course, we couldn't find that shelter, even with directions, without stopping three times to ask for directions. We arrive, only to find it closed.

Someone would be in in ten minutes, we were told, so we decided to wait. There was NO way we were going to try to do this ALL OVER AGAIN Saturday morning.  I had persuaded Linda to bring the heavy bag with her, so she wouldn't have to go back to the car. So poor Linda lugs the big bag of blankets back to the car.  By this time, we have been gone almost an hour. We can't see the entrance where we are parked, so we turn around and park on the other side of the street, only to hear a woman on her doorstep yelling, and yelling! I roll my window and ask her if she is yelling at US. She says "No". We settle in, and in a few minutes a young man shows up.  We get out of the car once again, and leaving the windows down a bit for Vimy to have air, lug out the blankets AGAIN, and get the young man's attention. 

Of course, wouldn't you know it, Vimy bounds out of the car window! We are in a large common area, with the road nearby.  I don't have his leash. I didn't know this mission was going to turn into an oddyssey!  I try to grab him and carry him, since I don't want him running where he shouldn't, nor scaring any children. I pick him up, but he weighs 40 pounds, all pure muscle, and he easily wiggles out of my arms.

Meanwhile, Linda is talking to the young man about the blankets, and making arrangements.  I try to keep an eye and hand on Vimy but it is hard. We conclude our transaction, FINALLY, and start walking back to the car, when I feel wet on my feet and legs. I am wearing a jean skirt and Mary Janes on my feet. Vimy has just PISSED all over my feet and legs!  EVEN my Mary Janes were wet!

 I don't know how that happened. There wasn't a post or bush around.  I must have gotten in his way somehow.  My phone rings and I answer, "My dog just pissed all over me.  What do you want?"  Of course, by now  I am highly, highly indignant.  I also know the caller is my baby bro.  Linda?  She never stopped laughing all the way back to her car, saying "Only you!"

So now I have the dubious distinction of having had my dog relieve himself on me.

Honestly!  I was told I must have squeezed his bladder when I picked him up.  I don't know about that, but I will give my pooch, whom I adore, the benefit of the doubt!

Plus, mission accomplished!

The duck walk!

Thursday I am coming home from work, distracted by a phone call,which I ignored, only to suddenly see a DUCK on the left side of the road, getting ready to cross this fairly busy street. MY first thought was, "OMG, I am NOT stopping for this duck!" Someone did that in Québec, I think, last year, where this caused a huge accident, and people were killed!" The woman ended up in prison, for letting some ducks cross the road in front of her vehicle. Listen, I haven't had any misadventures lately. I didn't want to chance anything, so I was quickly calculating what were my chances of outrunning the duck! Little to none. It is truly amazing ALL the thoughts that can run through your head in a split second.

However, when I glanced quickly ahead, and in my rear view mirror, there were no cars coming either way, so I cruised to a stop. It took forever, it seems for that duck to cross the oncoming lane, into mine. Now there are cars stopped behind me. I know they can't see why I am stopped. I am urging the duck on from inside my car, when she (he?) STOPS right in front of my car. In other words, it stops three quarters of the way across the road. It doesn't move. It just stays right there. There are no babies following it.. there is just that ONE duck. I think it was a Mallard. 

I have given up gesturing and shrugging my shoulders, to the people sitting in their car behind me. No one is leaning on the horn, but I know I have to do something soon. People are impatient when they are on their way home from work.  I really don't want to, but I get out of my car carefully, and do shoo-shoo movements to the duck. Would it move? No way!! I gesture to the people behind me, and short of waddling like a duck myself, try to convey why I am stopped, and out of my car, in the MIDDLE of the street. They smile nicely... and sit patiently. No one is in a hurry I guess... certainly NOT the duck.

I get back in my car, and in desperation, I give the horn a few blasts. What does the duck do? He/She/It decides to GO BACK where it came from, so I continue to wait. So does the long line of cars behind me. Furthermore, cars are now stopped in the oncoming lane, behind the first car, who doesn't want to kill the duck either. They don't know it is going back, not forward.   It seems to take forever, as we all wait for one of God's creature to waddle out of the way. 

So why did the duck cross the road? Who knows! 

I can't help it!

I just have a few more tales out of school to tell.  I never had time to do this when I taught full time. It is one of the advantages of being "JUST" a supply teacher. No report cards, no prep, no parents, no administration, no Board to deal with so, lots of time to write. :)

En deuxième année, une petite dans la classe ou je remplace, s'approche et me demande "Sais-tu ou je vais pour mon activité du Carnaval?"  Je devine comme il faut, en répondant "Aux quilles?"  Elle est toute impressionnée, et me dit "Hey, t'es bonne toi!"

Ensuite, elle me pose la question suivante "Sais-tu combien de dodos avant ma fête?"  Là, j'ai choisi le chiffre cinq, complètement au hasard et elle est étonnée.  "Hey, t'es vraiment bonne toi!  Je peux te donner un collé-collé?"  Vous savez sans aucun doute, ce que je lui ai répondue!

A Grade two student, climbing up an eight foot snow drift in the primary playground area after a snowstorm on the first day of spring , says "One thing, this AIN'T spring!"

A very mature Grade Two student tells her fellow classmates at her table, that when she lost a tooth recently, (They were all discussing the veracity of Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, etc.), the Tooth Fairy left her $20.00 under her pillow. The little guy next to her declares, "Wow, that must have been a BIG tooth!"

Overheard during art class, by the sweetest looking little girl in Grade Two, telling her seatmates , "My mother is stupid and lazy!" I got to the bottom of that comment very quickly, by having a little chat with her in the hall.  Pauvre chouette!

Her remark did remind me of when my daugther was ten, and told me with great indignation, "You are the MEANEST, UGLIEST AND FATTEST mother in the world!"  It is those times that you remind yourself that it is NOT you whom they hate, but the power you have to THWART them.  I have always loved that word "thwart!"

Almost two and a half years... eight moves and more than forty eight sleepovers in the last six months alone...

....I have finally been able to make a momentous decision!

My journey started when I moved back home to the Chaleur area of NB, after having been away for almost forty-two years. That is a heck of a long time to be away, isn't it? However, don't let anyone tell you you can't go home again. You can!  I did and while what transpired was NOT always easy, I survived and I am gloriously happy.

I am now done with being a "couch whore". Please pardon the expression, but I was. En français ça se dit bien aussi, une putain de sofa.  Some prefer the term "couch surfing".  Whatever term you prefer, that is what I was.  I moved in and out of my rented cottage four times, in and out of my brother's motorhomes four times (each "in" is a move in my books, and each "out" is a move too!) I stayed with my sister, my baby brother, my first brother , my son, my daughter, my friends in Edmonton, Campbellton, Jacquet River, and Florida. Have I mentionned my MOTHER?  My wonderful, caring, supportive mother who took me in more than once, and especially when I was at my lowest point, last fall, upon returning from The Camino?  I owe her a debt of gratitude I can never repay.

So, it is ANOTHER HAPPY DANCE FOR ME! I bought a home!!!! Je me suis achetée une maison, une semi-détachée, et nous emménageons, moi et Vimy, la fin avril, pour DE BON! J'ai enfin fini de rouler ma bosse un peu partout dans la région Chaleur et dans le monde.

My new home is 0.12 kilometres from my disaster zone apartment, which I moved into in mid November.  Some may think I am TOTALLY CRAZY to be moving so quickly and so soon, but.... it was meant to be. 

Furthermore, I know there will be NO smell of cat urine in my new house. Alleluia!
Now, if I can just get a hold of the RIGHT mailbox keys from the get-go, life will be perfect!

What would you have done?

My friend Linda and I came out of church one Sunday morning a few weeks ago, to find that the car parked behind us had its front hood up.  Propped up by the driver's door, was the owner, a regular looking guy in his late thirties, smoking a cigarette.

OF COURSE, I had to ask him if he needed a boost, as I had booster cables in my trunk.
Without remembering every little detail, this is the story he told me, more or less.

"I left (Edmundston?) this morning. I am on my way to visit my 81 year old father in Saint John.  I stopped in Campbellton at Tim's, and there I changed my jacket to a lighter one, since it was warm out.  It was only when I took the Bathurst exit to find a gas station to fill up, that I realized I had left my OTHER jacket behind, with my wallet, credit cards, and cellphone, in Campbellton.  I have no money for gas, and I was hoping some people could help me out, so I can get to Saint John."

He said all this in a very matter of fact way.  OF COURSE, I had to ask a few questions, to which he replied, "Yeah, I called Tim's from the gas bar and no, the jacket is there but there is no wallet, nor cellphone in the pockets."  "Yeah, I also called my father so he wouldn't worry." "Yes, I cancelled my credit card."

OF COURSE, I then pulled out $20 out of my wallet and gave it to him. He thanked me politely, and said he only needed another $5 to be able to fill up his tank, as a few other people had given him money.  As he said this, Linda, who had been in the car, came out, heard a summarized version of his story from me, and promptly gave him $10.  He thanked us again, got in his car, and drove off.

OF COURSE, we were left wondering, as WE drove off to fill up Linda's car, if we should have handled this differently. Maybe we should have offered to put $30 in his car, by following him to the gas bar.  Furthermore, Linda thought his story a little odd, in that he shouldn't be going to Saint John, via Bathurst and Campbellton, if he is from Edmundston. However, it is possible that in MY recollection of his story, I made an error in his departure point.

Anyway, after musing over this incident, we decided that if it were a scam, it was a poor one, because hardly anyone came out of church. There was a "Share Lunch" in the church basement after mass, so most people went there, thereby not going out to their cars.  Furthermore, if it was a scam, "Hey!", what goes around comes around, sooner or later.

However, our ultimate conclusion was that we had helped out a fellow human being in need. It wasn't up to us to decide how and why the money we freely gave, was spent!
We will never know whether his story was true or not, but I have a feeling it was.

I AM NOW "LESS A HOME". HAPPY DANCE! HAPPY DANCE! HAPPY DANCE!

Should I say I am now one "homeless" person with elucidation?

I no longer own a house that I have been trying to sell for almost two and one half years.  I have been bought out, and I couldn't be happier than a pig in S&?* or a clam at high tide!

At the end of February, when I received my buyout, I went to the bank.  As I handed over the cheque to be deposited, I told the cashier "This is the largest cheque I have EVER received in my name alone. Furthermore, this is  the FOURTH happiest day of my life!  She so totally, totally deadpanned it when she replied "You must have had three children then."  I smiled, told I had had two children, but didn't tell her what the third happiest day of my life had been. Then I made my request and told her what I wanted to do with some of the money. She laughed... and laughed. She said it was the first time she had heard "that one!"

I had told my lawyer's secretary what I was going to do when I received the money. She replied " You have lost it!"  My son chuckled and said, "Go for it Mom!"  My daughter thought it hilarious when I sent her the picture.

So here is what I did with some of the money!

 

$1000 in five dollar bills!