YOU HAVE to keep laughing, and what better place ...

to have a chuckle than at school? I have been saving these comments and exchanges since last fall, where I taught in mainly primary classes, so we are talking five, six and seven year olds. Try to keep a straight face? I couldn't!

Liam: Informed me he needed a "high whitener." (He meant a "highliter.")

Eric: "This is the ULTIMATE day changer!" (He was talking about snack time!)

I spent one morning working with two little rambunctious fellows, who needed constant reminders to stay on the task at hand. I found myself saying over, and over, and over again, during a literacy period "Michael!", "Jackson!", "Michael!", "Jackson". True story!!

Coming in from recess, I stepped into a Kindergarten class just in time to hear the cutest, tiniest, blue eyed, blond haired moppet turn to his fellow classmate and ask him, "Did YOU sanitize?" He meant the hands, because they have to do that as soon as they come in from outside recess. Future supervisor there! 

A SIX year old came up to me in his very busy classroom, and in ALL seriousness asked me, "Can you step away a minute Madame?  I want to tell you something in private." How can you refuse a request like that?

The same one, a little later, says to me, "I don't want to tell you what to do, BUT..." He proceeded to tell me. :)

The same mature little fellow said to me the next morning, "Coffee is the BEST part of the day, right?"

THE same little fella said to me, with a grin, the third day I was in his class.  "You didn't have to threaten me.  I knew you wouldn't keep me in at lunch time." I had told him earlier, "Do I have to threaten you? IF you don't do some of your work, you will be staying in for some of your lunch recess." He knows me well! Besides, he managed to do a "tiny" bit of his work. 

Last but not least, from yours truly from above... KNOCK! KNOCK!  Who's there? Turnips. Turnips who?  Turnips the volume, I can't hear the music!   

Alex:  Madame, I have Covid. Just kidding!

Justin: "Madame, what's that thing above your nose?" I am wearing a mask, so my hand automatically goes to my glasses. When he sees that he adds, "No, it's that SCRATCH, and he points to my forehead." That was when I informed him that THAT "scratch" is called a "WRINKLE!"

The next day, Justin says to me, "I want to help you Madame." I respond, "Great! How are you going to do that?"  He replies, with a smile " I am being quiet." Right then and there I forgave him for the "scratch" comment. LOL

Oliver: "Guess what I got for my birthday?  A Fitbit!!" Me, to myself, "Whatever happened to Dinky Toys?"

Alex: Running around the classroom when he shouldn't be, and when questioned, replied, "She's got a crush on me and I am trying to get away from her!"  Yeah, right!

Kaylee: "I like your teaching." Ahhhh! Bless her little heart.

LAST but not least, today... I was asking the students in my Grade One French Immersion class, to tell me about their pets.  Who had a pet? What was the name? One little one informed me he had two pets,and then proceeded to give me the names of his three dogs, "Isabelle, Mica et Mia." I couldn't figure out why three names for two pets, so I asked him the question again? Est-ce que tu as un animal de compagnie? To which he replied, "Oui, j'ai deux chiens." “Comment s'appellent-ils?” I asked, as I repeated my question. “Isabelle, Mica et Mia” he replied again!  So,  he is giving me the names of three dogs once more! My look of puzzlement was finally enough for his classmate beside him to pipe up and say, "Madame, he is saying, "Ils s'appellent... NOT Isabelle!" OMG, here is one smarter than the teacher! In my defense, the kids ARE wearing masks, and it is NOT always easy to understand them.  I know... I know... that's no excuse!! :)

IT SUCKS TO BE A WITCH...

during a pandemic, but then, as our Prime Minister sooooo eloquently put it just this past week, when speaking about this pandemic?  "This sucks! It really, really does." You know what???? He's right!

I realize that many, many people are suffering horribly... emotionally, physically, economically and mentally, during these unprecedented times. I am very aware of that.  I am fortunate enough to be only really affected by the "social" aspect of this pandemic. My social life has more or less gone up in a puff of smoke!

For all of us, a lot of fun and joy has gone out of much of our lives. We can't socialize like we used to, because we have to keep our bubbles small. When you are single, that bubble is truly s*m*a*l*l*. So this year of course, Hallowe'en, while not cancelled totally, was different. 

Every year for the past four years, my sister-in-law has gone above and beyond, to create a wardrobe of these fabulous witches costumes, complete with lite-up brooms, jewellry, wigs, and all the accoutrements needed by authentic witches to look their best.  

We have had so much fun, as our reputation spread. We were invited to be Harvest Witches at our local fall festival, Scary Witches at the annual Haunted Trails at our nature reserve, welcomed at a school for their Brouhaha Hallowe'en celebrations, and last year, even Winter Witches at an SPCA fundraiser. 

This year? NOTHING! ZILCH! NADA! Every fun activity was cancelled, thank you Covid! 

My Witchy Sis-in-law and brother kindly hosted my friend and me at their home this year, where between showing kids how to access their treats, we treated ourselves to a delish and fun "appetizers" type meal. Did I mention that we ran out to do our witches dance whenever kids showed up in the driveway, the snazzy "Wolfshägen Hexenbrut" dance?  We were pretty good at it too! I totally got into it, chasing kids and trying to swat their bottom gently with my broom, while respecting the two metre social distancing rule.

Unfortunately, the fun was over as soon as it got dark, so what did these witches do? We went bar hopping, where this witch (Mercedes) danced up a storm at a local brewery.  I had to put a mask on to dance! UGH! Wasn’t I already ugly enough? We then continued partying at another bar, before wending my way home on foot, with my friend.  

Do you know how tricky it is to move around with long,witches' skirts?  I ended up ripping the first fringe of my crinoline type skirt, when I stepped on it in the dark, as I was walking home. Did I mention I did a major FACE plant at the SAME time? Look at my forehead, and this is only Day Two. 

Oh well, I wear my wounds proudly. I won't be putting any Vitamin E on my scraped face.  I want the SCARS: I want to have something tangible by which to remember the year of Witching in a Pandemic! Besides, I will need less makeup next year. There is always a bright side don't you know!

If you highlight the link below, right clink and hit Go To You Tube in the options, it will bring you to the video.

 https://youtu.be/BjUV-byB8ls

Don't click on this. It doesn't work and this luddite can't remove it. :(

WOULDA, SHOULDA, COULDA... called the police!

However, I did NOT!  Actually, I did, but it was too late.  I am a person that does not live with regret. It's useless, but I am making an exception here, since I DO regret not calling them right off the bat. 

If I hadn't already started to put gas into Jiminy, I would have hightailed it out of there PDQ. I was at our local gas bar downtown at lunchtime, pumping gas into Jiminy, when I saw groups of high school students coming crossing the street and meridians, heading for said gas bar, which also has a Tim's drive-thru and inside counter.  Avoiding people in general and any groups specifically during these pandemic times, has become my MO, so you can imagine how I was a little miffed at the thought of all these students swarming this gas bar, where I now HAD to go in to pay.  I have nothing against our youth; I am after all a retired teacher, but I know how youth can feel like MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE.  I TOO once felt that way. :) 

I was able to squeeze in, before any of them landed in, and noted right away that although a posting at the door asked patrons to limit themselves to three people inside at any time, there were already four or five people in this tiny space, all lined up at Tim's. The cashier for the gas waved me in, so IN I went. When I remarked that there were already more people than the maximum, she shrugged and said, "No one seems to pay any attention to that."

I paid, but when I turned around, six students had just walked in, effectively blocking the door, and were in a huddle closer than ANY you would see in a CFL game. There were no masks either, but that is not the point here. They are not mandatory yet in NB. I was wearing mine, and I approached this group, asking them to wait outside, as they were blocking the entrance and not respecting social distancing. One smart Alec spoke up for them all, and belligerently informed me that they had ALL walked over together, and no, they weren't separating.  I repeated my request, explaining the rules, such as they are, and asking them again to wait outside.  No way, José, was the answer, more or less.  

THIS is the moment I should have turned to the cashier and said, "Please call the police, Madame," but I didn't, to my regret.  Oops! Am I repeating myself?   I exited the gas bar, having to squeeze by six or more teenagers. In my total frustration,  I merely muttered "Mal éléveé!", as I strode out. 

By the time I got home, I WAS spitting bullets.  I listed, in my head, my three possible plans of action. Number 1? Call the principal of the high school, which I did, and while he was attentive and supportive, since I could NOT identify the mouthy one, (MAUDIT!) other than to say I was sure he was in Grade 9 OR 10, he suggested I speak to the owner of the establishment as well.

Well, I decided to skip that step, and go right to the NB "Snitch Line", since by my reasoning,  this owner really didn't care about how many people were in his establishment, as he would have had better enforcement of the rules available on the premises IF he were concerned.  I hadn't even seen any hand sanitizer there.

W-E-L-L, wouldn't you know it, the "Snitch Line" is down temporarily, due to technical difficulties. Maudit!

Plan 3 - NOW I called the police, spoke to the dispatcher, explained in great detail what had happened, and was told a police officer would contact me.

Later that day, I looked up when Vimy started barking, and sure enough, there was a city police cruiser parked in front of my house. Maudit! While I really don't give TWO figs what people think, (which we ALL know is a perogative of OLD people, to not give a S&*!) I know that when I see a police cruiser in someone's driverway, or close by, I always wonder "Hmmm, why are they there?" 

In walks this masked officer, explaining that he had dropped by since he couldn't reach me by phone. Well, that is because I have programmed my phone to NOT receive calls while I am driving, MAUDIT!  

Among other things, he advised me to indeed CALL THEM NEXT TIME. I politely informed him there would BE no next time, as I would never go there again at lunchtime, or better yet, I would just always go to another gas bar.  I suggested that maybe they could make a point of cruising by around lunch time, for the next week or so, just to make their presence felt and maybe remind these "young uns", to be respectful in all ways

In light of the newest return to stricter lockdown measures in both Ontario and Québec, I felt it was IMPERATIVE that I speak up.  The steady increase in positive COVID tests in those provinces has been proven to come from the "under forty" demographic. Québec alone had over 1,000 new cases in ONE day, this week.  We live in a relatively safe little cocoon here in the Maritimes, but we are NOT immune. We TOO may soon face a deadly "second wave."  

Parents... please educate your children, the very young and yes, those cocky teenagers, to listen, and listen well, when they are asked by a petite, white haired lady, to step "OUTSIDE!"  

        

I WAS BACK IN THE CLASSROOM TODAY...

September 21st, 2020, for the first time since February, so it my first day in a classroom in over six months and my first, POST COVID.  

It was with a great deal of trepidation, that I opened those front doors to my assigned school, this morning. Although I had read thirty-one pages of protocol procedures to be followed, because of Covid, I still wasn't entirely sure of what to expect.

What did I see and experience? I can't even begin to describe it, it was almost surreal. This is after our schools have been open two weeks.  The kinks have been ironed out, but while it is still a work in progress, I admit, the whole school day, while so TOTALLY different from anything I have EVER experienced in five decades of being in the education system... blew me away with its efficiency, practicality, and total committment of ALL those involved, to making our schools a safe and secure place for children, and yet allowing them to BE children, to laugh, to play, to learn, to grow, physically, mentally, socially and emotionally, with their peers and their teachers.

THE BIGGEST adjustment, for me, was wearing a facial mask the entire day,even while outside on duty. My heart goes out to healthcare workers, and ALL those who wear these masks for eight to ten hours a day. God bless and keep you!

The other "new" things were NOT being to able to drink water; feeling frustrated that my students NOT understand me, since my words to them in a second language, were muffled by my mask.  It was NOT being to able to chat with my teaching colleagues in the staff room, because numbers were limited to four people; it was NOT having the interaction between students in the hallways, as "classroom bubbles" are in the hallways only when no other class is, or a class bubble follows another class bubble. It was NOT recognizing some who spoke to me, because of their facial mask. I could go on and on, about how the atmosphere, noise, ambiance, routines, procedures, hustle and bustle of a school day, have changed.  What choice do we have though? We must ensure we keep these darlings as safe as possible. 

What did NOT change?  My chance to touch a freckled face, and point out "les taches de rousseur."  My chance to point out a dimple in a sweet little cheek, and tell her she had a "faussette", which was a "trait visible", for her writing assignment.  My chance to look a blue eyed scamp in the eye and tell him to STOP using his mask as a pretend slingshot.  My chance to help another find HIS lost mask, trampled and dirty on the floor.  My chance to compliment another "firecracker" who worked so hard all day and who was so pleased when I complimented her on her good choices, that she wanted me to write a note to her father, which I did, GLADLY. My chance to bond with these eight and nine year olds, and my chance to chuckle, knowing she wasn't hurt, but because she is a "drama queen", when after falling on a climbing apparatus, declared, "My private parts are going to explode!" 

While I may have been physically exhausted when I left at the end of the day, I was emotionally, socially and mentally fulfilled, because I spent the day being a t-e-a-c-h-er, and that has always been a privilege.

    

MY ADVENTURE IN SAILING...

really turned out to be an adventure I had while out walking. Why the sailing reference? I had to get off that thirty-three foot sailboat or I was going to be sick. Either that, or become a ZOMBIE. We had only been on the water twenty four hours, and I felt nauseous, couldn't stop yawning, couldn't sleep, and just wanted my land legs, like YESTERDAY!

So my friend brought me to shore in his dinghy, and I proceeded to hike up a dirt road in the middle of no where, somewhere on the Saint John River, near a place called Carter's Cove. So straight uphill I climbed for fifteen minutes, UP Carter's Wharf Road, which makes sense... COVE, WHARF, you get it.  At the top, I could turn left or right on another country road, but this road at least had blacktop. I did NOT want another very steep uphill climb, which is what faced me if I turned right, so I chose the rolling hills on my left, and set off happily. Vimy was back home at the kennel, so I felt strangely bereft of my constant canine companion. 

As I strode purposely along, taking in the humble country houses, in the total solitude and silence of a peaceful Saturday morning in the woods of rural NB, this thought c-r-e-p-t into my head, "What badass person (read HILLBILLY) could come along, see an old woman wearing a bright T-shirt saying YAK YAK YAK YAK YAK,NEPAL on it,and decide to have some fun?"

I had no SOONER BANISHED that silly thought, than this HUMONGUOUS truck rolled up and stopped. The sunshine prevented me from seeing WHO these possible perpetrators were, so I bent down slightly, peering in the window, only to see a very elderly woman driving this big mother of a truck, with her gray haired, grizzled, bearded husband in the passenger seat. They wanted to know if I was looking for horses. YES... HORSES!!! 

I replied, "Ah... no. Why?" They proceeded to tell me how they had seen two horses not far behind them, running wild and free on the road, a dark horse and a pale one. I explained that I wasn't from the area, didn't know anyone, but if I did meet someone during my walk, I would advise them of this situation. They appeared concerned, and while living only a kilometre down the road, did not know any of their neighbours who might be missing their horses.

I continued my walk, seeing a gorgeous, bright red '32 Chevy truck cruise by me. The walk was worth it, JUST for a glimpse of that  beautiful vehicle. Then I saw a woman through the trees, watering her flowers. I advanced in her driveway, and asked if she knew anyone with horses, because apparently TWO were running wild and free up the road a little further. I couldn't just well mind my own business.  Those poor horses!  Well, she took off running to the neighbours, while her husband peeled out the driveway, accompanied by his dog, and obviously very concerned, proceeded to tell me WHO the horses belonged to, HOW the owner was away, WHERE the mother lived (next door), etc.  I repeated what I knew, but then of course, he, like a typical New Brunswicker, wanted to know how I knew about these horses, so I explained. Then he wanted to know all about ME. His wife joined us, telling us the call had been made to the owner, who apparently was in NS? 

I thanked them for being such good neighbours, as I decided to turn around, since I was at the half way point of my walk. We hadn't seen the horses yet, and frankly, I wasn't real keen to get involved in that scene. I noted the number of the house across the road, and turned around. Five more beautiful, antique trucks and cars passed me, maybe on the way to a show, or thanks to Covid, maybe just out for a drive on this splendid September morning. 

I had barely walked five minutes before another car coming towards me STOPPED right beside me. I didn't wait for this younger couple to speak. I blurted out "Are YOU looking for horses?" They WERE, of course! They had received a text from the owner, who was on her way, (apparently NOT in NS after all!) and being good friends, they were out looking for her horses. I explained where I had turned around, and wished them luck, but not before they TOO wanted to know all about me and my involvement in this. So, so Maritime! 

I finished my walk reflecting on what had just transpired. Gees, I could be a HERO and not even know it! Maybe I saved those horses from being killed on the road, or I saved the owner much anguish and anxiety, if she had returned only to find them missing, and for God only knows, how long. 

I will never know the outcome, but hopefully it was ALL good. Maybe it was all because, in the words of the poet Robert Frost, "Two roads converged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference." Well, in my case, lazy me chose the rolling hills one, instead of the steep hill, and THAT may have made all the difference.

Why do misadventures always follow...

a really great vacation?  That is what seems to happen to me, and on a fairly regular basis too.  

You always have loads of work to do at home when coming back from vacation, chores like unpacking, laundry, grocery shopping,etc. to name a few.  So out I  went, Monday morning, to do my grocery shopping, after having unpacked and started a load of laundry. I know, I know! You should never leave any household appliance running when you are NOT home.  Unfortunately for me, I seem to have developed a certain "insouciance dans ma vieillesse", a less careful attention to the minutae of daily life, let's say, as I age.:) 

Upon my return, I went downstairs to put away meat in the freezer.  As soon as I opened the door to the laundry room, I stepped in WATER. Lots of water! A quick glance showed me that my laundry tub was plugged, and had overflowed. Yikes!  I quickly mopped up the worst of the water, and put in a phone call to my Handy Bro. I figured I would pick his brain, before I called a plumber. 

Well, he soon popped in, and twenty hours later, four return trips, at least three to four hours of shopping, getting his tools, checking what he had at home, AND putting in the actual work, the source of my plugged up sink had been found, checked, cleared, explained, fixed and replaced.  Not only had he found the source of my problem, but after using a plumber's snake, cutting many pieces of pipe and teaching me about couplings and unions, (what amount marriage and committment?), he ended up replacing my old laundry sink completly !  How fortunate am I?  I don't know any plumber, NO MATTER how handy he is, nor how much he charges, who would have done what my Handy Bro did. 

Of course, none of this would have happened if I hadn't started dumping my coffee grinds from my Bodem, D*O*W*N my laundry tub drain, a few months ago. What was I thinking?  I have no idea! I usually put the grinds in my flower beds, or in the garbage.  In my defense, there is no one around to say to me, "Hey, don't do that! You will plug your sink!" Vimy can't tell me.  I rely entirely too much on that dog. 

Another lesson learned ONCE again by this senior baby boomer.  However, like ALL my misadventures, I always seem to come out smelling like a rose, even though that was NOT the smell emanating out of my laundry room today. My big plumbing problem has disappeared, plus I have a new laundry tub, which hadn't even been on my "wish list". 

OUT with the OLD!

IN with the NEW!

Uninvited guests can ...

bring a sense of trepidation and reluctance, because they are kind of invading your privacy, but once they have settled in, those feelings can be replaced by a sense of peace and happiness. I came to find that out JUST yesterday.

Last summer, cliff swallows tried to nest in my eaves, right by my front door. They also tried to nest in the eaves of my neighbour's carport, which faced my front door. We were constantly being dive bombed by these tiny creatures that swooped all around us, in mid-June. I am ashamed to say that I had a friend cut the nest building short by destroying the mud plastered to my siding, with my garden hose. What was I afraid of?  My neighbour did the same thing, and that was the end of it, for last year.

Fast forward a year later. My neighbour is at his camp for the weekend and I once again witness a flurry of activity between our houses. I look up, and lo and behold, the swallows have returned to HIS place, to nest again.  I see no sign of activity around my eaves, and am totally relieved, as I DO NOT want a repeat of last year's destruction.

I decide to advise my neighbour of his new guests however, because he wouldn't have noticed the comings and goings of these little birds, since he needn't go to the outside of his carport unless he is mowing the lawn. I also figured it was best he knew before the eggs were laid, so as NOT to kill baby birds.  

Of course, he came out immediately with his garden hose and removed the beginnings of a nest.  Wouldn't you know it? Less than twenty four hours later, these poor swallows are back, trying to rebuild their nest AGAIN. By now I am getting upset.  I 
figure maybe if I don't say anything this time, and he
does not catch on, they will have time to hatch their babies and fly away?  Not really plausible thinking on my part.  Well, my neighbour tells him and out he comes with the hose AND ladder, again. There is no persuading him to leave the half built nest alone.  

When I went to bed that night (after a visit from my "hermanita"  who was totally devastated at the thought that baby swallows might have been murdered), I wasn't able to sleep. I thought, OMG, these swallows can't come back a THIRD time, it's 
going to drive me to drink. (Well... drink more!).  I went on Goggle, found a way to prevent swallows from nesting in your eaves, took a screen shot of the info, and texted it to my neighbour the next morning.  I step out and there he IS, putting up some fine wire netting above his eave vent, to STOP the swallows from rebuilding a THIRD time.  I am so relieved. Those cliff swallows will not return, because they can't access that area any more, thank goodness.


I console my hermanita with that fact, as we head out for a two day back country, 45 km hike during a record breaking heatwave of 41 degrees, (with the humidity), in the Chaleur area... aptly named for once.

When I returned yesterday, I was busy doing laundry, checking my flowers, putting away hiking gear, and catching up on my messages, when I heard the 
twittering of swallows and saw three or four of them swooping and flittering directly above me, as I unpacked Jiminy.

In my two day absence, the swallows HAVE indeed returned, but this time, have built a complete nest in MY eaves. Are they tenacious and stubborn, or what?   The pretty mother is sitting proudly up there, peering down at me.  An overwhelming sense of relief floods over me.  I am SO,SO happy that they have come back. 

I would have wondered all summer, every time I saw
swallows, what happened to those beautiful birds trying to build a colony this year.   

Again, I am blessed. Blessed to be able to right a wrong, and blessed to enable life.  We have deprived swallows of their natural nesting grounds, because we have over developed our shoreline with cottages, 
and homes, and fortified the cliffs, high and low, with breakwaters of every type. They have no where to go to nest, which explains why Canada has lost 98% of its swallow population in some areas. Cliff swallows are a protected species under the Migratory Birds Convention Act. 

It may only be a small start on my part, but we have to start somewhere, to preserve our wildlife. I will have a nesting box installed in the eave of my garden shed, this fall, and hopefully, when the cliff swallows return NEXT year, they will realize they have a NEW, safer and more secure home in which to start their new family.

For the next month though, I will delight in their beauty and activity around me, delight in the birth of their babies, and delight in the knowledge that I have been given a second chance. 

UPDATE: The next day: My delight has turned to despair. OMG... I woke up to a crumbled nest scattered all over my walkway this morning. I am DEVASTATED. Is it the heat that caused the nest to fall down? What makes this even WORSE is that those poor swallows are now trying to rebuild OVER my neighbour’s wire mesh, for a THIRD time!!!! They are tenacious. Nature will take its course I guess, but I am still heartbroken.