TURNING THE TABLES... on Road Rage?

I was driving along the main drag in our fair city recently, when NOT 100 metres from a pedestrian crosswalk, OUT stepped a young, very curly, long haired young man, from between two parked cars, waving his arms in the air.  I tend to notice men with hair, especially as I age.  I enjoy seeing a full head of hair on any young person, really.  What was I talking about? Oh yeah, this young fella stepping out onto a busy street, from out of nowhere.

Well, I didn't really know what he was waving his arms about, but I was NOT about to stop and find out.  I would have had to SLAM on my brakes, and possibly be rear ended by a car behind me, so I kept on going. I did look up at my rear view mirror, only to see him give ME the finger... le DOIGT D'HONNEUR.  FRANCHEMENT!!!!  I guess he had wanted me to stop to let him cross the street.  Well, I just said to myself, "Listen young man, use the crosswalk.  Don't they teach you SOMEWHERE, never to step out from between parked cars?"

I thought no more of the incident, because in two minutes I was at my destination, the waterfront parking lot, where I had business with my seamstress. I had no sooner parked, turned OFF my car, and was putting on my mask, when another car pulled up RIGHT beside me.  Music was blaring, plus the muffler was busted and making an ear splitting racket.  Guess who was at the wheel?  None other than the young man who had just given me the finger!  I know hair when I see it.  It was him!

My first thought was, "OMG, road rage. He has followed me here and is about to tear a strip off me!"  What else could it be?  I drive a BRIGHT, neon green Mazda, with a Canadian flag fluttering in the wind, on the roof top antennae.  You can spot me miles away.  He was out to get me! (My imagination tends to run wild, the older I get!)

When I entered the parking lot, I had noticed there were two men wearing security vests, not 50 metres from where I was parked, so I decided right then and there, to bite the bullet and nip this possible nasty encounter, right in the bud!  Tuer l'oeuf dans le coque, comme qu'on dit.  These men would be witnesses to a possible nasty encounter, and would surely come to my rescue, if need be? 

I jumped out of Jiminy and went RIGHT up to this guy's window, which was rolled up. He was absorbed on his phone.  I rapped smartly on the window. He looked up, obviously startled, and all wide eyed.  I waved my ARMS and spreading them wide, slowly articulated with my mouth,  so that he could read my lips, "I DID NOT see you back there!"  He looked scared, nodded, smiled and looked down at his phone again, kind of fluffing me off.

By this time, I was on a roll. I rapped on his window again: he looked up, now decidedly embarrassed, wanting to get rid of me, smiling benevolently, but still NOT rolling down his window.  Well, I gave HIM the finger, by wagging my finger back and forth, and mouthed the words, "NO more giving me the finger, okay? That's not nice! " He nodded vigourously, smiled, and went back to staring at his phone.  So our one sided conversation was OVER, I guess?

I finally trotted off, happy to have gotten MY message across, and thinking, "Don't mess with little old, white haired ladies!" 

Dear Hana:

As one of your teachers, I did my report Friday, indicating the results of my "Good for Kids" assignment at your school.  That four week assignment was to help you and other students in French Immersion bring up your reading levels a bit by giving you some much needed extra time, one-on-one, or in small group setting. 

I was in a deeply reflective mood, as I tabled the results.  All students who were able to be helped, were able to advance, and what a wonderful feeling that was, for themselves, their teachers, their principal, and for me. It had been a team effort all the way. 

When I saw your name on my list four weeks ago, I remembered you right away, from Kindergarten, then Grade One, Grade Two and now here you were, in Grade Five.  Still with beautiful, long, dark, wavy brown hair, and a shy, sweet smile. 

Teachers remember students for different reasons. I have a tendency to remember the scamps (one Claudio Ippopolito comes to mind!), the students who need more love and attention than others, the super bright ones, the new ones in a classroom, the neglected ones, and students like you, super quiet, almost timid and so undemanding. 

You were right beside me first thing every morning for two weeks. We chatted while going down the hall from your classroom to my cubby, and then we went to work.  I could tell when you had read the night before, with your grandmother who lives with you, because you did so well. Not many people know how to properly pronounce the plural of eggs, in French. You did! 

That Friday morning you were a little quieter than usual. When I asked if you were feeling well, you merely replied that you were tired.  

The next day your mom brought you to the hospital because you still weren't feeling well, but you never came home.  Tragically, without explanation or reason, GOD called you home. 

I can't even begin to imagine the magnitude of your parents' grief, nor the grief of your grandparents, extended family and friends. Your school community, classmates, teachers, all staff... we are devastated, and heartbroken as well. There are no words. There are no answers. Just an ENORMOUS sense of loss.    

I immediately went to see a grief counsellor at school Monday morning, exactly at the same time you and I would have been together.  I poured out my heart... I cried... and I shared a memory with her, that I have kept since you were in Grade One, four years ago. It is a memory that still makes me smile. 

I was in your classroom, helping your teacher by taking a Guided Reading group, which consisted of you and another girl. We had read a story, and when doing a recount, I asked you a question, which the other child answered right away. I should have admonished her gently, but for some reason, I didn't.  That is when you quietly reminded me with the following comment... "THAT was MY question Madame, and you let HER answer."  I immediately apologised to you and reminded the other student that it had not been her question to answer.  Then you added these seven words, which I never, EVER, forgot. "You deprived me of a learning opportunity!"  Your comment made me smile, even though were one hundred percent correct! I had indeed done that.

I made a point from then on, of never allowing one child to answer for another. Children may learn from their teachers but TEACHERS also learn from their students. YOU taught me a lesson that day and I want to thank you! 

Your dash was short Hana, a mere ten years... 2011-2021.  You may be gone but you will never be forgotten.  You lived, laughed, loved and were loved. You left your mark the short time you were with us.  With your words especially, you left your mark in my mind and in my heart... forever... pour toujours...por siempre.

Madame D. 

💔

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!"