The one evening I don't take my cell phone with me, is the evening I can't come to someone's aid because I can't call the police, damn it! I tried to get someone else to do it, but they didn't. I can't believe how people REFUSE to get involved.
IT is a beautiful, balmy, breezy Sunday evening; perfect for a stroll with Vimy. It's Father's Day actually. We are walking along, when suddenly a low slung, sporty car careens into a driveway on the other side of the street. I notice the Nova Scotia license plate right away, because I think, "What an asshole!". He reverses enough to block the path of a young woman in bright red leggings, who is walking briskly on the same side of the road. They exchange words, he tears out of the driveway, she keeps on walking, and he takes off at 100 KMH, gunning the engine, down the street. I continue to walk, observing her slightly behind me. She is obviously upset. He returns, and now stalks her with his car. He is yelling at her through the window. She, at one point, opens the car door, yells at him, slams it shut, and keeps walking. He keeps following her with the car. By now we have come to an intersection. He continues to harass her through the intersection, then pulls off in a parking lot, just ahead. Waiting for her. I step out into the street as she crosses my path, and ask her if she wants me to call the police.Obviously stressed, she remarks, "Do what you want, but get his plate." Of course, I CAN'T call because I am not home and for once, I DID NOT bring my cell phone. Maudit! I can only catch the first three letters on his plate. Now there are cars lined up at the four way stop, because his shenanigans have slowed traffic. I look for a car with a couple inside, with the window rolled down, and yell to them that if they have a cell phone, to please call the police. I briefly explain the situation, giving the three first letters on the plate. They nod, as if in agreement, then turn on the street where the young woman continues to walk. People stare at me as they roll to a stop, but NOT ONE, SINGLE person asked what was going on, nor offered any help.
I decide to keep following her, seeing that no one is coming to her aid by offering her a lift. However, she is a bit ahead of me, and when she crests a hill, she disappears from view. When I crest the same hill, I think I see her getting into a vehicle coming my way, but I can't be sure. I don't see the stalker's car. It is S*O frustrating. I walk further ahead a bit, just on the chance I might see her. Those BRIGHT red leggings are a real beacon. There is no sign of her. She has disappeared into thin air.
I am so bothered by the entire incident, that when I get home forty five minutes later, I call the town police, and explain the whole situation. Apparently nobody has called. So much for hoping that couple did. I have to hope that maybe they gave her a lift? The police call me back fifteen minutes later, and I repeat the whole story. They assure me that they will patrol the area, and be on the lookout, based on the information I have given them.
This incident brings back to mind a young woman by the name of Kitty Genovese, who was raped, and murdered in NYC in the 60s. Many, many (38 reportedly) people heard her cries for help, but NO ONE lifted a finger to help her. What is it with people, that they feel they have to mind their own business ALL the time, even when they know something is wrong? I just don't get it.
ANOTHER year has come to an end...
a school year, that is. Another year full of laughter, caring and learning. How blessed am I! So of course, I have to leave you with a few nuggets of wisdom from our future leaders- a grab bag in French, English and Franglais!
1ère
Alex - Je ne fais pas de rêves; je fais juste des cauchemars.
Kindergarten
Owen- "Madame, Jason is showing off his butt crack." Me - "Is he doing this on purpose?" Owen - "YES!"
Grade 5 - overheard in the hall - one student to another student - "You're NOT my be all."
Grade 1 - Ryder states, while he is drawing. "I put dots to add detail. I am very creative."
When I did not admonish one Grade One student for reading a sentence I had assigned to another to read, the latter reprimanded me with "You are letting h*e*r take away my learning opportunity!"
J'essayais d'expliquer à des élèves de 5ième la définition d'un antonyme (un mot qui veut dire le contraire d'un autre mot i.e petit - antonyme - grand). Je voulais qu'ils me donnent le verbe "acheter", alors je donnais des exemples tels que "Tu ne veux pas vendre quelque chose, ni le donner, mais tu veux faire le contraire. Ils m'offraient toutes sortes de mots, quand Antony me lance, "Voler?" Je me suis éclatée de rire.
Une petite, mine triste, m'annonce que sa tante est mourante à l'hôpital, et qu'elle n'a que cinquante ans. Je lui demande la raison que sa tante soit si malade, et elle déclare,"Elle a fait de la cigarette!"
Said by an English child in a French school. "Ses "gloves" sont là-bas!"
Grade 2 - Tyler - "My grandfather was in both the First and Second World Wars." I ask how old he is. "He's 68."
Overheard in a Grade 3 French Immersion class. "Je hope tu don't get your tête stuck!"
Student in Grade 3 French Immersion, meaning to write down T-shirt, wrote "T-shier!"
Grade 4 FI - Logan -"I don't blame you for not being in our class as a substitute." Me-"Why do you say that?" Logan - "A four letter word - LOUD!"
THE biggest whopper I was told this year by a child (a male student in Grade 2)
Madame, did you know that I have a toe of steel?
Me- Really? How did that happen?
My toe was bitten off by a shark, when I was three and living in Australia. They put a steel toe in its place.
Me - Wow! I would love to see that toe.
His glib reply?
The skin has grown all over it.
For the first time ever, I was called "Ma tante Duguay"!
Me - How are you today Chase?
EPIC!
1ère
Alex - Je ne fais pas de rêves; je fais juste des cauchemars.
Kindergarten
Owen- "Madame, Jason is showing off his butt crack." Me - "Is he doing this on purpose?" Owen - "YES!"
Grade 5 - overheard in the hall - one student to another student - "You're NOT my be all."
Grade 1 - Ryder states, while he is drawing. "I put dots to add detail. I am very creative."
When I did not admonish one Grade One student for reading a sentence I had assigned to another to read, the latter reprimanded me with "You are letting h*e*r take away my learning opportunity!"
J'essayais d'expliquer à des élèves de 5ième la définition d'un antonyme (un mot qui veut dire le contraire d'un autre mot i.e petit - antonyme - grand). Je voulais qu'ils me donnent le verbe "acheter", alors je donnais des exemples tels que "Tu ne veux pas vendre quelque chose, ni le donner, mais tu veux faire le contraire. Ils m'offraient toutes sortes de mots, quand Antony me lance, "Voler?" Je me suis éclatée de rire.
Une petite, mine triste, m'annonce que sa tante est mourante à l'hôpital, et qu'elle n'a que cinquante ans. Je lui demande la raison que sa tante soit si malade, et elle déclare,"Elle a fait de la cigarette!"
Said by an English child in a French school. "Ses "gloves" sont là-bas!"
Grade 2 - Tyler - "My grandfather was in both the First and Second World Wars." I ask how old he is. "He's 68."
Overheard in a Grade 3 French Immersion class. "Je hope tu don't get your tête stuck!"
Student in Grade 3 French Immersion, meaning to write down T-shirt, wrote "T-shier!"
Grade 4 FI - Logan -"I don't blame you for not being in our class as a substitute." Me-"Why do you say that?" Logan - "A four letter word - LOUD!"
THE biggest whopper I was told this year by a child (a male student in Grade 2)
Madame, did you know that I have a toe of steel?
Me- Really? How did that happen?
My toe was bitten off by a shark, when I was three and living in Australia. They put a steel toe in its place.
Me - Wow! I would love to see that toe.
His glib reply?
The skin has grown all over it.
For the first time ever, I was called "Ma tante Duguay"!
Me - How are you today Chase?
EPIC!
Wishing all of you an EPIC CANADA DAY CELEBRATION!
O'CANADA 💓💓💓
You are NEVER too old to...
lose three demerit points off your license, for going NINETY kilometres per hour in a FIFTY zone. It was the FIRST time I lost points, EVER! Tears did NOT get me off the hook this time. Merde!
to squeal your tires, even if you did so inadvertently, when driving a little shitbox like my Jiminy Cricket. (Mazda 2)
shovel snow (what we call in these parts "white shit!") off your lawn in late April, because you can't S*T*A*N*D looking at the pile of it in front of your living room window, blocking your view and the sunlight. I must stop overusing a certain word.
learn why woodpeckers LOVE pecking at utility poles, and not just trees. Every morning on my walk with Vimy, I see my same little buddy pecking his heart out, and making an ungodly racket, where the pole is flanked by metal. Every time I heard him, I would think "Peck your heart out. Good luck with that buddy!", until a friend informed me that those poles were full of insects. Insects don't go to dead trees? I know shit. OOPS!
to walk to your brother's house- a gorgeous seven kilometre walk on a rare, sunny and windy Sunday. First time I was ever able to walk to a family member's house, from my place. I wouldn't have been up for the 4,375 km hike that it would have been had he stayed in Alberta. :)
be asked by a student in Grade One, if you know whether B*E*A*R hunting season has started. I haven't the foggiest idea on the subject, but obviously Alex thought I was in the know. It is kind of wonderful to have children think you know EVERYTHING!
to put your foot in your mouth, big time! I had stopped to chat with my neighbours, an older gay couple whom I call Oscar and Felix. I was complimenting them on their lovely front garden, adding that all that was missing was a flag stone, like the one I had given as a gift to a friend once, saying ... "Don't piss off the fairies." Oops! I turned redder than a beet! They had a good chuckle and Roger added that if ever he saw one, he would buy it right away.
to squeal your tires, even if you did so inadvertently, when driving a little shitbox like my Jiminy Cricket. (Mazda 2)
shovel snow (what we call in these parts "white shit!") off your lawn in late April, because you can't S*T*A*N*D looking at the pile of it in front of your living room window, blocking your view and the sunlight. I must stop overusing a certain word.
learn why woodpeckers LOVE pecking at utility poles, and not just trees. Every morning on my walk with Vimy, I see my same little buddy pecking his heart out, and making an ungodly racket, where the pole is flanked by metal. Every time I heard him, I would think "Peck your heart out. Good luck with that buddy!", until a friend informed me that those poles were full of insects. Insects don't go to dead trees? I know shit. OOPS!
to walk to your brother's house- a gorgeous seven kilometre walk on a rare, sunny and windy Sunday. First time I was ever able to walk to a family member's house, from my place. I wouldn't have been up for the 4,375 km hike that it would have been had he stayed in Alberta. :)
be asked by a student in Grade One, if you know whether B*E*A*R hunting season has started. I haven't the foggiest idea on the subject, but obviously Alex thought I was in the know. It is kind of wonderful to have children think you know EVERYTHING!
appreciate the linguistic duality of our great country, and this witty play on words, when you see this book on the desk of a Grade Five student in a French school. NOT that I agree with it, mind you. I did a double take upon reading the title, (which is a series, like The Babysitters) but when it had sunk in, I had to GUFFAH! Love that word "guffaw...by the way.
to put your foot in your mouth, big time! I had stopped to chat with my neighbours, an older gay couple whom I call Oscar and Felix. I was complimenting them on their lovely front garden, adding that all that was missing was a flag stone, like the one I had given as a gift to a friend once, saying ... "Don't piss off the fairies." Oops! I turned redder than a beet! They had a good chuckle and Roger added that if ever he saw one, he would buy it right away.
to show children how to blow bubbles (as in gum!), doing so with thirty six, seven and eight year olds in a Grade Two class, while singing Sheree Fitch's poem "BUBBLEGUM BENNY" , put to
song. After ALL, learning to make bubbles with your bubblegum, as a kid, is a very, very important life skill, don't you agree?
song. After ALL, learning to make bubbles with your bubblegum, as a kid, is a very, very important life skill, don't you agree?
SO GET OUT THIS SUMMER , with a child, AND GO BLOW BUBBLES WITH YOUR BUBBLE GUM!
Is golf a good walk spoiled?
Apparently, Mark Twain did NOT say that, but I thought of that quote, and a lot more, when I donned my first golf visor this spring, which was one purchased at The Old Course, St. Andrews Links. YES, THE St. Andrews, the one in Scotland. I was there on vacation four years ago. We spent the day visiting the town, and the golf course, OF COURSE! What a pretty town it is, full of history, and the golf course is breathtaking in its beauty and location. Shouldn't the birthplace of golf be anything but incredible?
I remember that day in its entirety. There are days like that in our memory. Days that stand out so clearly, for whatever reason. I remember that we visited all the local historical spots, shopped, had lunch in a quaint pub, and witnessed the hustle and bustle of university students doing various activities, during their equivalent to our Frosh Week. Did you know that Prince William attended university there, and that this was where Kate became his roomie? I am not a monarchist, nor a lover of anything royal. Why in the heck am I mentioning this? Go figure! I digress...so...
to get back to my story. We visited The Old Course, doing the touristy things like getting your picture taken on this little famous stone bridge, spending too much on souvenirs, and strolling around the course. We had stopped near the 18th hole, by the green, to just rest, and watch the golfers teeing off, working their way up the fairway. It was a lovely fall day, just perfect weather. I had wandered away from the others, who were chatting and was observing my surroundings, when I noticed a woman just hovering on the fringe of the eighteenth hole. She seemed a little distraught; she had a kerchief in one hand, and one hand in her pocket. Sensing something, I watched and waited. When the last foursome had putted, and left, there was no one on the green, The next golfers were still a ways down the fairway. She then stepped out onto the green, while pulling a baggie out of her pocket. I instantly realized what she was going to do. She slowly sprinkled the contents all around her, and with her head down, visibly upset, made her way up the steps to the observation level, where I was standing.
I instinctively pulled a tissue out of my pocket, walked half way down the steps, met her, put out my hand, and said, "Could you use another one of these?" She started sobbing, so I gathered her in my arms, in a big hug, and let her cry on my shoulder. Between the flow of tears, she told me her story. Her name was Jane Bird, Jane from Indianapolis, Indiana. She had taken a tour bus from Edinburgh that morning, not knowing anyone, but with a single solitary purpose; to scatter her late husband's ashes on The Old Course. You see, his dream had been to golf at The Old Course in St. Andrews. Someday. However, that someday never came. He became ill with cancer, and died before his dream could be fulfilled. Jane, a year later, came to do the O-N-E thing she knew she had to do, in his memory. She had promised him she would. We chatted quietly, while she calmed down. She thanked me for being "an angel". I could only nod, with a bit of a lump in my throat, and reply, "Something or someone told me that I had to be HERE for you, so you wouldn't be alone."
THAT is why I remember St. Andrews. I A*L*W*A*Y*S will. That moment is stamped indelibly in my memories. My walk on and around the course that day, was definitely NOT a good walk spoiled. I reached out, touched someone, and made a memory.
I remember that day in its entirety. There are days like that in our memory. Days that stand out so clearly, for whatever reason. I remember that we visited all the local historical spots, shopped, had lunch in a quaint pub, and witnessed the hustle and bustle of university students doing various activities, during their equivalent to our Frosh Week. Did you know that Prince William attended university there, and that this was where Kate became his roomie? I am not a monarchist, nor a lover of anything royal. Why in the heck am I mentioning this? Go figure! I digress...so...
to get back to my story. We visited The Old Course, doing the touristy things like getting your picture taken on this little famous stone bridge, spending too much on souvenirs, and strolling around the course. We had stopped near the 18th hole, by the green, to just rest, and watch the golfers teeing off, working their way up the fairway. It was a lovely fall day, just perfect weather. I had wandered away from the others, who were chatting and was observing my surroundings, when I noticed a woman just hovering on the fringe of the eighteenth hole. She seemed a little distraught; she had a kerchief in one hand, and one hand in her pocket. Sensing something, I watched and waited. When the last foursome had putted, and left, there was no one on the green, The next golfers were still a ways down the fairway. She then stepped out onto the green, while pulling a baggie out of her pocket. I instantly realized what she was going to do. She slowly sprinkled the contents all around her, and with her head down, visibly upset, made her way up the steps to the observation level, where I was standing.
I instinctively pulled a tissue out of my pocket, walked half way down the steps, met her, put out my hand, and said, "Could you use another one of these?" She started sobbing, so I gathered her in my arms, in a big hug, and let her cry on my shoulder. Between the flow of tears, she told me her story. Her name was Jane Bird, Jane from Indianapolis, Indiana. She had taken a tour bus from Edinburgh that morning, not knowing anyone, but with a single solitary purpose; to scatter her late husband's ashes on The Old Course. You see, his dream had been to golf at The Old Course in St. Andrews. Someday. However, that someday never came. He became ill with cancer, and died before his dream could be fulfilled. Jane, a year later, came to do the O-N-E thing she knew she had to do, in his memory. She had promised him she would. We chatted quietly, while she calmed down. She thanked me for being "an angel". I could only nod, with a bit of a lump in my throat, and reply, "Something or someone told me that I had to be HERE for you, so you wouldn't be alone."
THAT is why I remember St. Andrews. I A*L*W*A*Y*S will. That moment is stamped indelibly in my memories. My walk on and around the course that day, was definitely NOT a good walk spoiled. I reached out, touched someone, and made a memory.
Taken by the hand...
I looked down onto to the face of a sweet little one in Kindergarten, looking earnestly up at me with bright blue eyes. With an even sweeter lisp, she asked if I knew where the Kissing Rock was. Of course, I had never even HEARD of the Kissing Rock in the school yard, so off she skipped, her hand in mine. She lead me to a shaded spot, under overhanging fir boughs, near the fence. Very APTLY named, as it turns out, don't you agree? After assuring me that she didn't know of any children kissing in the school yard, she ran off, saying, "N*O*W you know where the KISSING ROCK is!"
Wherever you were this glorious Victoria Day weekend, in the year of Canada's 150th birthday, I hope you were OUTSIDE in the great outdoors for some of it, if not the greater part of it. Hiking, walking, jogging, biking... in the company of someone you care about, under a deep blue sky, warmed by the sun's rays, and maybe discovering your very OWN "Kissing Rock!"
Is it summer yet? J'ai hâte à l'été.
KINDERGARTEN/MATERNELLE:
-Our scissors are in our POOCHES!
Bentley: I accidentally ate three pictures I was cutting out.
Ava: That is RIDICULOUS! You don't EAT paper.
-La fée des dents m'a laissée des cents. J'achète une bicyclette au printemps!"
-Avec un prénom anglais, la petite Gwen à l'école française, était étonnée que je me rappelais de son nom. Je lui ai demandée si elle était anglaise. Sa réponse? Je suis née les deux!
-Es-tu la mère à Ti-Guy?
PREMIÈRE ANNÉE/GRADE ONE:
- I caught a thousand fish this weekend!
-You're here, Mme? YEAH!"
- Red haired Jacob - "If I were a bread, I'd be a GINGERBREAD!"
-While constructing a bridge in class with paper cups and Popsicle sticks, Taylor and Tyler informed me, "WE are like the GENIUSES!"
-My Dad eats STALE cheesies.
-The teacher told the kids to go their mats, which is where they sit on the floor to be given instructions. One vocal little one, "You heard the MAN! Get to your mats!"
DEUXIÈME ANNÉE/GRADE TWO:
-Isabelle m'a dit que j'étais "DISGUSTING" et "GROSS!"
En écriture - "Les femmes ont du caractère."
Lors d'un jeu d'équipe, Noah proclame, "Tout le monde va me tanner pour être avec eux!"
Gabrielle, à un autre à la bibliothèque, "C'est ben de valeur, tu es à MA place!"
Marc-André, lisant en bon acadien, "Les chevaliers qui parcourions les champs...!" C'était écrit "parcouraient." MPR (MOT POUR RIRE!)
Tom - in Grade Two, to Kelly, in Kindergarten, in line while waiting for the bus:
Tom- Let me pass you.
Kelly- NO!
Tom - Come on... let me pass.
Kelly- NO!
Tom - I'll give you FIVE bucks!
TROISIÈME ANNÉE/GRADE THREE:
To his teacher - I think my meds have kicked in!
MY MEDS? A gorgeous, sunny Saturday!!!
In closing, I want to share this English second language writing assignment I gave to a Grade Six class yesterday. I was touched by this student's candour. May we ALL tell our mothers this Mother's Day, what they t-r-u-l-y mean to us, and hug them a lot. Make sure the hug lasts SEVEN seconds!!!
JOYEUSE FÊTE DES MÈRES
There are angels who walk this earth...
I know! I know! You are probably thinking, "GOD, she is on another gratitude kick!" I am! It's been a long, long winter, BUT... life hasn't been kicking me in the ass lately. I have been having a smooth ride. So, it IS time to be grateful. B*E*S*I*D*E*S, #beccatoldmeto. If you don't know who Becca is, and you live in NB, then you are living under a ROCK!! She was profiled on CBC National News recently.
Do you have angels in your life? Angels ...
who bring back your recycling bin, or garbage bin, from the roadside, when you have been gone since 7:30 and don't get home until ten hours later?
who fix your rear tail light by buying a new bulb, putting it in, and then are indignant when you want to at least pay for the cost of the replacement bulb?
who send you little parcels every month, so you can look forward to receiving something in the mail?
who make you feel appreciated, as a teacher, in words and deeds?
who leave a complete supper at your door - chili, cheese, garlic bread and a big, fat orange for dessert? This after you have had three really, crazy, busy days of supply teaching, and you haven't slept for three nights?
who want you to come for the weekend, or for a meal, just you and your dog..., and don't think that ''TWO is company, THREE'S a crowd.''
who know that I know, that I can show up a-n-y holiday time I am alone, and be welcome at their table without a-n-y notice.
who fix things around your house that you can't do, and try to teach you how, so that you can do the job yourself the next time? Sometimes that can be an entire beautiful, sunny Sunday, that they could have put to better use, rather than spending it removing your OLD toilet, and putting in a brand NEW one.
who arrive with a small fortune in essentials oils, and proceed to make you all kinds of natural remedies to help you sleep?
who are always giving you small meals... for no reason, other than they love you and you will always be their child. :)
I am blessed with many, many angels in my life. Remember....
Do you have angels in your life? Angels ...
who bring back your recycling bin, or garbage bin, from the roadside, when you have been gone since 7:30 and don't get home until ten hours later?
who fix your rear tail light by buying a new bulb, putting it in, and then are indignant when you want to at least pay for the cost of the replacement bulb?
who send you little parcels every month, so you can look forward to receiving something in the mail?
who make you feel appreciated, as a teacher, in words and deeds?
who leave a complete supper at your door - chili, cheese, garlic bread and a big, fat orange for dessert? This after you have had three really, crazy, busy days of supply teaching, and you haven't slept for three nights?
who want you to come for the weekend, or for a meal, just you and your dog..., and don't think that ''TWO is company, THREE'S a crowd.''
who know that I know, that I can show up a-n-y holiday time I am alone, and be welcome at their table without a-n-y notice.
who fix things around your house that you can't do, and try to teach you how, so that you can do the job yourself the next time? Sometimes that can be an entire beautiful, sunny Sunday, that they could have put to better use, rather than spending it removing your OLD toilet, and putting in a brand NEW one.
who arrive with a small fortune in essentials oils, and proceed to make you all kinds of natural remedies to help you sleep?
who are always giving you small meals... for no reason, other than they love you and you will always be their child. :)
I am blessed with many, many angels in my life. Remember....
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