There are limits to being kind...

don't you think?  I know it's a pandemic, people are stressed, we don't always know what's going on in their life, and all, but RUDE is RUDE, and needs to be called out. That is my humble opinion anyway, and heaven knows, I always have one.

My case in point? I invited a friend for dinner and a game of crib recently. I love to play crib; my friend is an excellent player and good company.  

Now my friend is attached to his phone. I know that. He answers his phone no matter where or when: he NEVER turns it off, nor would he ever just NOT answer.  HEAVEN FORBID... the sky would fall!!!

I was well aware of his phone addiction, but it had never been a problem before, because the conversation was usually just one quick call. Well, Monday night that is NOT what transpired.

We had no sooner sat down to our first course of salad, rolls accompagnied by a glass of wine, when he took a call from his brother-in-law. Five minutes later he hung up, looking sheepish.  It wasn't even an important call.  We resumed our meal, and had NOT even finished the salad, when his girlfriend called. She calls every day, as she lives in another zone: she does it to keep tabs on him, as she is the jealous type. So he answers, goes upstairs (first signaling that it has to be quiet around him), and proceeds to chat with her for over twenty five minutes. He had no sooner finished with her, when there was a call waiting, from his sister, which he also took. Again, not important. It could have gone to voice mail.  All the calls could have.  Our evening so far? Five minutes at the table, and over thirty five minutes on phone calls.

By now, I am fuming, but it's only a slow simmer. When he lands back downstairs, I ask him point blank, but very politely, "Could you please turn your phone off now, or at least let it go to voice mail, so we can finish our meal, and enjoy a few games of crib uninterrupted?"  His answer, "Oh, no, I have to answer my phone. I can't NOT answer it". He picks up his glass and proceeds to sit down at the table.

Well, that was where I very calmly took the glass of wine out of his hand, handed him his dinner in foil (I was prepared!) and told him that he could take his phone and his dinner, and go home.  I told him how rude and disrepectful he was being to me, his friend, and that I had had enough. He refused the food, and left quietly, without even apologizing.

With friends like that?  Thinking back, I realized something else had really upset me, even above the unbelievable rudeness.  It was that he expected Vimy and I to be quiet while he was talking to the "girlfriend" so she wouldn't know that he wasn't home. ME?  QUIET in MY own house?  ME, who had her own phone off?  

There are limits to my kindness after all. I found that out that night. Readers? Do you agree? Do you have your limits?

Thank you for reading my rant. I always feel so much better after I put pen to paper, so to speak. 

A CANINE perspective on this Pandemic business!

The look I gave my master said it all. She knew it too. (I use the term Master, knowing she wouldn't like Mistress, because of the negative and sexist connotations. I know her WELL!) 

I have been wanting to have my say about this Covid business for a while now.  I may be just a dog, but I have thoughts and feelings too, and they are going to spill out right here. Consider this MY rant.

I am loved, well cared for and want for nothing. Don't get me wrong. However, my dog's life has been nonetheless impacted by this Pandemic.  My Master was hiking in the Himalayas last March, while I was living the life of Riley at the "Good Life Dog Hotel", when this Corona business was renamed COVID 19 and declared a global PANDEMIC!

My master came home ten days early and has pretty much been HOME a lot more since.  While I enjoy that, I miss my social time too. I don't get to go to doggie day care anymore. I hardly see any of my canine friends unless I meet them on a hiking trail. IF they have fussy, overly protective Masters, I can't even get a good sniff in. Jeepers! Furthermore, what I really miss is seeing ALL my "ma tantes"... who would come to visit.  There's ma tante Nancy in Texas, (she might as well be on another planet!), ma tante Linda, (not in my Zone and in Red besides), ma tante Louise,(in a LOCKDOWN zone) ma tante Denise (restricted household bubbles), and ma tante Jane and mon oncle John ( also in another Zone.)  I have picked up some new "ma tantes", ie. Monique, Christine, Aline, Celia, and especially ma tante Ali and mon oncle Yves, but I still miss my old ones. They spoiled me rotten. Everyone says I am such a good dog, and they love me. Everyone loves me. I am not bragging. That's the truth. They always say to my Master, "What a GOOD dog!"

There is one exception though! THE granddaughter and I are NOT friends. It's not my fault and it's not hers. I am just not used to children. I am afraid of them, along with being afraid of any and all stick-like objects, vacuum cleaners, gunshots on TV, thunder, loud noises, and anything that comes towards me moving at,or near my eye level... like toddlers, wheelchairs, and bicycles. So, being scared of her, I would bark when she scampered into the room, and even WORSE, sometimes I would even growl. Isn't that terrible? I only bark when someone is at the door, or walking by in the street, because it is my protective nature. Why am I barking at THE most important being in my Master's life?  So I went from being banished to the basement during my visits there, to being banished to the kennel, to not being able to be banished anywhere, since the Atlantic Bubble is no more, and NO ONE can go visit ANYWHERE, anyway! :( How are we going to get used to each other, when we can never see each other?)

I have experienced loss too. I am now eating leftover dog food donations from the owners of three D+E+A+D canine friends. I think I have lost count, actually. I did get to say goodbye to Bella, my cousin, but not to Roxie, nor Freddy and I didn't even know the dog whose food I received today, he being my Master's mother's neighbour's recently departed pooch. (Did you follow that one?) It is kind of morbid to be eating another DEAD dog's food, but since my Master is such a frugalista, I eat it just to make her happy. LOL

Today was the icing on the cake, however, and hence that pathetic look on my face. We left the house this morning, on what became a four hour odyssey to get my annual vaccines. Go figure!  Normally, that would involve a 25 minute drive max, to the arena in Belledune, where I would cower under a chair until my turn came to be innoculated from all those diseases I can get, apparently, and then we would be on our way. Time - 90 minutes max! 

NOT this year, thank you Covid!  It took over an hour in the car to drive to Dalhousie. Being in the car is NOT my favourite thing. Don't ask me why: it has to do with one of my three or four previous Masters, who must have been super nasty, because when I get in the car, I immediately lay on the floor behind the passenger seat and I DO NOT move from there, until the car stops. I am quasi COMATOSE!!! 

Well, because of an emergency the vet was running behind in her appointments, so I got to cower on the floor in the car for another hour and a half, while we waited in the parking lot. I got up on the back seat once or twice, because I was SO bored, but the minute my Master would turn around and look at me, uttering terms of endearment, I would scoot back behind the passsenger seat and hide my face.  Don't ask me why. I don't want to remember, because it must have been bad and I can't forget.  We are dogs are like elephants, I think. 

We finally got in to see my favourite vet, even though I shook like a leaf, and immediately scooted under the bench to hide. I didn't whimper, nor bark, nor squirm, nor do anything bad, while my butt was stabbed with a needle and another long needle was stuck up my nose! However, getting my claws clipped DID make me squirm a bit, necessitating that vise-like grip from the vet's BOUNCER, around my neck. NOW, I had had enough. Hence the pathetic look on my face, and the reason for this blog.

Just so you know though, I am a very happy and grateful pooch, who just had to let it all hang out today. Thanks for reading my rant! VIMY 

  

   

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.