We’ve been in the UK for 16 days, and today is the first really rainy day. There’s been the odd sprinkle now and then in the past fortnight, but really, we’ve been extraordinarily lucky weatherwise, especially given all the precipitation that fell here in the month before we arrived. Today, though, Mother Nature is making up for her two weeks off, and really dumping water on us ~ the forecast is for four inches in these 24 hours, and I believe it. There are remarkably large puddles of water everywhere you look, and everything looks waterlogged. Although the temperature is supposed to be 18 C, it’s damp and chilly, despite our sweaters and warm socks. On the bright side, now it feels like England!
We’ve spent a few days in Milton Keynes, which is where the World’s Greatest Mother-in-Law (TM) resides; while there, we’ve enjoyed all sorts of holiday treats, like seeing the latest Harry Potter movie, and a day of Mummy-only shopping in Central MK, where I scored bargains like the 55£ skirt, on sale for 7£ (in Canadian dollars, that’s $118, reduced to $15).
Most of our time has been spent in the idyllic Cotswolds, with Nicole and Adam and the impending Small (name TBA, upon arrival). I took this on one of those sunny days:
If you follow the link through to the flickr page, you can mouse over for notes that explain which building is which.
There are loads of other photos on the flickr site, chronicling our various adventures, including the boys first ride so far.
We’ve also helped harvest onions and raspberries from Nicole and Adam’s small vegetable garden, and made friends with the resident hedgehog, who devours slugs, much to the delight of Adam, whose reaction to slugs makes me wonder if he had a bad experience with one as a child.
On Tuesday, the boys and I boarded one of Richard Branson’s trains and went to Glasgow to visit my gran. The last time I saw her was exactly thirteen years ago, when she came to my wedding! I was thrilled, too, that my aunt Bernadette was visiting at the same time. She now lives in India, where she has worked to build a home that brings together orphaned children and abandoned women. Although she is my mother’s sister, she’s actually closer in age to me than to Mum, and in the past I’ve always had a blast with her.
I was a little trepidatious about this trip, for a few reasons. Although my gran still lives on her own, in her own house, and by all accounts is very active, she is in her late 80s, and my children are, well, children. I was also a little worried that I had exaggerated my past closeness with Bernadette, and we’d end up spending three days in awkward silence, punctuated by the terrible sounds of breaking china figurines as the boys destroyed the house. Thankfully, my fears were not realized ~ I knew from the moment we met on the platform at Glasgow Central that Bernadette and I would very quickly reestablish our bond, and I was not disappointed. We had a great time, with lots of revalations and laughter, and the boys loved her too. As for Gran, well, 87 she may be, but she’s still, in her own words, inde-bloody-pendent! Although she needs a walking stick to get around, get around she does, and God help you if you try to stop her. And she comes with a disabled parking sticker, which means we got the best parking spots everywhere we went.
On Wednesday, we went to Loch Lomond, and had a wonderful (if unbelievably delayed) lunch at the Duck Bay Marina, then spent a couple of hours at Loch Lomond Shores, a shopping/amusement complex on the boardwalk at the southern end of the loch. In the shops, I discovered that I come by my shopaholism honestly ~ both Bernadette and Gran were hard to tear away from the bargains! The boys had a great time running around on the boardwalk, and while Bernadette and I continued our quest for the perfect sweater (alas, fruitless at that point), Gran supervised the kids ~ including Colin’s bungee jumping. So perhaps “supervised” is not the right term…
Yesterday, we headed into downtown Glasgow a little early, and found the perfect Scottish sweater at Pringles (yay!), then had lunch together at the station before Bernadette and Gran saw us off at the platform. We had a great time, and I have every intention of returning to Glasgow next year, assuming we can repeat our extended summer vacation over here.
Now, though, we’re back in the more-sodden-than-idyllic Cotswolds, helping get the house in order for the most anticipated arrival of Small, who is expected any minute now.
The official due date is, in fact, today ~ and there are still a few hours left, so watch this space!
Still having a wonderful time, thank you
Ahhhhh, vacation. There’s nothing like it. We’ve done tons of stuff, and I will write about all of it at some point, but just now the sun is shining and the great outdoors beckons. I hope that all of you are enjoying yourselves as much as we are!
Oh, and in passing, thirteen years ago today I got lucky. Happy anniversary, sweetheart. (K)
Relaxing (finally)
Well, we’re here, in the idyllic Cotswolds… the World’s Greatest Mother-in-Law (TM) has taken the boys off to the flat we’re staying in, and I’m chillin’ in the living room of Moorwood Stables, listenting to Muse and the Foo Fighters with the World’s Greatest Sister-in-Law (now with complimentary bump) and one of my two outlaw brothers.
We spent the afternoon at the the Cotswolds Show (pictures on flickr). We’re headed to Wales tomorrow and Glasgow next week. Our tickets are booked for the next Harry Potter movie. The WGM-i-L continues to be the WG chef. My favourite dog of all time, Scrabble the horse herder, remembered me and was satisfyingly happy to see me.
Life’s good.
Don’t panic
The plane leaves in 12 hours…
…maybe I should pull the suitcase out from under the bed and start packing….
Something to blog about
Lest you fear that I have been the victim of some terrible accident, perhaps involving an enraged platypus*, I have taken some time from my “vacation” to post this update.
When last we spoke, I had aged a year overnight. This was, one might argue, because it was my birthday; I prefer to think it was a direct result of overextending myself for the last four or five months. Consider June, for instance: I finished marking all the late submissions from the winter semester and updated my already-submitted marks; I wrote a short commentary for the Philosophy of Education course I took in the winter semester; I wrote a longer paper for the same course; I reflected upon and revamped my personal teaching philosophy, again for the same course; I complete three journals, one academic paper and one term paper, including a new teaching strategy, for the Dynamics & Diversity course (i.e., Sociology of Education); I created a 185-page course text for my new Formula Fiction course so I could bring it in to the bookstore so that it’s ready for the fall semester; I reviewed a 300-page textbook for a publisher; I spent an afternoon with a colleague going over his courses for the fall semester; I moved from one office to another; and I read 150 placement tests for incoming students. There may be other stuff, but for some reason I can’t think of anything else right now.
On the home front, the kids have been off school since last Friday; there have been various end-of-year events and projects to deal with, naturally, but they’re home now, and we’re alternating between ‘I love being home with my boys’ and ‘when are you moving out?’ Over the month, there have been a few birthay parties and at least one wedding on the weekend. We’ve had the front of our house rebuilt (Really. I’m serious); I have done the tiniest bit of gardening, and since the winter semester was a little distracting, we’ve done a very late spring cleaning. The big clean was partly because we’re currently hosting two visiting couples, Mark and Erika visiting from Sweden, and Alison and John, with small Joshua, from Halifax. Since Mark and Alison are both former Montrealers, they have other friends in town, so last night we hosted a gathering of some of these friends. Oh, and on Wednesday – after making a salad for a potluck lunch for fellow M.Ed. students in Point Claire and picking Alison et al up at the airport – we went out en masse to our latest discovery, a teeny tiny Mauritian restaurant that is walking distance from our house, then all hopped on the Metro and went to Laronde for the fireworks.
Tomorrow, Robert has a playdate and we have two birthday parties to attend. Sunday, we’re driving out to the Eastern Townships, for brunch with the Muir-Wylie clan, then supper with my parents, and a Monday-afternoon stopover with a friend who’s visiting from Stateside.
Oh, and did I mention that the boys and I are flying to England on Tuesday?
*I have no idea where that come from, so don’t ask.
Vanity Hair
Gray hairs notwithstanding, I do not colour my hair because:
~ there are fewer gray hairs than one might expect, given my advanced age*;
~ the gray hairs that there are were well-earned;
~ colouring my hair would be an act of vanity;
~ colouring my hair would be an admission of concern about aging.
In other words, not colouring my hair is an act of vanity. Hmmm…
Really, I am just posting so you guys have a post on which to comment on this most special of days đ
*I am aware that “advanced” is a relative concept. For those of you over 50, I am but a youngster. But believe me, as far as my students are concerned, I am decrepit.
Farewell
Last night, I put on my nice new summer dress and the shoes I keep promising I’ll never wear again and headed off to Place des Arts to witness the Vanier graduation ceremony.
As I’ve said before, as a teacher, my success is measured in my students’ achievements. So naturally, I was thrilled and more than a little proud to see so many of my former students cross the stage last night. Maria, Raihab, Sabina, Leonce, Laura, Zara, Susie, Amado, Tanika, Brandon, Monika, Anita, Howard, Inder and T.J., congratulations on a job well done! Congrats also to those of you who weren’t there last night. Sniffle.
This year, I volunteered to be the English Department rep on the Valedictorian selection committee ~ and I’m now planning to be on this committee until forcibly removed. It was a genuine pleasure to meet so many students who not only made the grade (literally) but who were so enthusiastic about learning and about Vanier. I’m the kind of person who develops strong emotional bonds with buildings, it seems, and it really touched me to meet students who felt the same attachment as I do to our college.
Being on the committee also gave me the opportunity to work with our selected Valedictorian; Philip, you did a great job, and more than vindicated our decision to ask you to represent your graduating class. Sniffle.
My only complaint about last night was the lamentable lack of representation from my departmental colleagues. We’re the largest department on campus, yet I was literally half our contingent last night. Perhaps this reflects the fact that the department is not included on the platform, which, given our numbers, and the ministerial and institutional emphasis on communication as a cornerstone of learning, is equally lamentable. Granted, many platform party members told me that it’s no picnic being up on stage, under the hot lights, for two hours, with specific instructions not to fan themselves or otherwise inadvertently indicate boredom; but frankly, that’s easy to say when you’re already part of the party, if you see what I mean. Suffice it to say that I think the English department should (a) lobby to be included in the platform party and (b) encourage its members to attend the graduation ceremony, so we can demonstrate to our students just how much it means to us that they’ve made it.
After all, if they’ve made it, we’ve done our job.
Sniffle.
Who Cares?
Dynamics & Diversity in the College Classroom
Journal #3
The readings weâve been looking at, whether their particular emphasis is on culture, gender, motivation, or discipline, all stress the aspect of caring. In fact, upon reflection, caring is central to most of the texts weâve read in most of the courses weâve taken in the Master Teacher program; after all, why are we committing ourselves to the time and effort required of this program if we donât care about our students and our work? Personally, I chose to take this program rather than pursue a PhD in English Literature, and I have no regrets whatsoever. I love my job not because I get to talk about great works of literature (believe me, thatâs the last priority!), but because I get to work with some pretty fantastic students. Each semester is a new challenge and a new joy; the material may not change much from term to term, but you never teach the same student twice. Even the ones who come back for a second or third course are different each time, because theyâve undergone new experiences and learned new skills.
Interresant, non?
It’s a good thing I am not paranoid.
This morning, I opened my browser and scrolled down my page for the weather forecast. Interestingly, the forecast was in French.
Which it was not yesterday.
If I were paranoid, I might have taken this linguistic switch as evidence of some kind of insidious Big Brother (or, perhaps more appropriately, Grand frere) plot to take over my web site, one element at a time.
Thankfully, I am not paranoid.
I clicked on the weather button, and sure enough, the French weather network site opened. From there, I went to the English site, and found the English code for the button, and added it to my template.
If I were paranoid, I might have been a little perturbed that there was (a) no indication that changes had been made to the code, and (b) an automatic redirection to the French site with the old code (which I added about a month ago, when the WN changed their old, old code, again, without notice or explanation, resulting in everyone’s favourite tiny red X in my sidebar, rather than the weather).
But I’m not paranoid.
The eyes have it
Dynamics & Diversity, Journal #2
Jane Elliotâs exercises in prejudice and discrimination were excellent illustrations of some of the concepts weâve been exploring recently, and how these concepts may be relevant to our classrooms. Elliotâs workshops demonstrate how social groups are affected by apparently arbitrary criteria, and how values assigned to these criteria result in a system of privilege and disadvantage that can have significant effects on the members of the society.
Fleras and Elliot (not the same Elliot) talk about the âculturally invisible environmentâ in North American society and make the point that racism not just about disadvantages for those members of society who are labelled as âdifferentâ or âOther.â Racism, more insidiously, is about the tacitly-accepted idea that those who are not different are privileged. In Jane Elliotâs classroom exercise, this concept of assumed privilege is manifested in explicit terms by Elliotâs awarding of certain unmerited privileges to the dominant group, such as extended recess time and free access to the drinking fountain. The result of this privilege is that the excluded students felt, in the words of one boy, like âa dog on a leash.â