Oh the places I'll go; Oh the things that I'll do.

Another school year bites the dust this month.  Don't know where it went - I feel sure that if I was in regular time mode we would still be in the middle of the year, but no, I am in fast-forward mode where time speeds up so that each hour only has 5 minutes.

I look back on the year and wonder where all the time has gone.  Just how much did I accomplish and why do I still feel like I am panting to the finish line, hobbling along at the back of the pack?

Nonetheless, have to say it felt like a good year - did some much needed assessments, met some interesting people, made some new friends, and generally still on a steep learning curve.... I like it!

And how can you not appreciate a whole summer off - Oh the places I'll go; Oh the things that I'll do ....like idling away an afternoon reading a book, sauntering down to a coffee shop, winging our way to a South American vacation for another check on the bucket list, and if I get the time .... and inclination, I will clear the clutter, catch up on the crafts, make an effort on the errands and chores and hopefully check off items off that long 'honeydo' list.

Waiting for sunshine and siestas and the adventures that summer will bring!

Zoom zoom

I now have to report on the time lapse between January 2011 and June 2011.  Time has zipped by so fast that it seems almost like I have been standing on the side of a racetrack, watching a Porsche whizz passed me at the rate of knots on a race track, or a kid holding on tight to the bars of a merry-go-round.  Weeks went round, and round, and round, and round again. 

Each week I would set the goal of getting down to business - write the blog, post with pictures and move on.  How long could it take?  Yet each weekend would come and go without one line being written - something else always seemed to come up.  During the week writing was unthinkable - get up at 6am, drive, start work at 7.45/8, keep head down till 4.30, drive, make dinner, do chores and collapse on the couch for the rest of the night.  And weekends ended up being the catch all and catch up point - like a spinning tombola - round and round - pick a prize - and the prize was always housework, house maintenance, chores and errands.

Round and round we go - spinning ever faster.  When will it end.

So racetrack or merry-go-round - any way you look at it - time relentlessly moves forward and I find myself desperately clinging on and barely keeping up.

Sad Passing

Rina

15/12/1931 to 7/05/2011

On May 7 2011 we received the sad news that Mom J had passed away.  She had been getting ever more fragile over the past year and since July 2010 had been in the 24hour nursing care / frail unit.  Her quality of life had dwindled to barely passable so we are both relieved for her and sad for us.

She was a most resilient person, bearing the burden of watching her siblings die young through tragedy and through cancer.  She was a caring and exemplary teacher - I can easily say that not one Grade 1 or 2 child ever left her classroom without being able to read.  She is one of those teachers that you will always remember from the handful of those who made a difference in your education. 

She was always up for learning new things and loved doing 'firsts':  I remember her first sushi bite - not one that she would repeat, but at least she tried.  She had to experience Canada in winter: threw her first snowball, screamed with delight as she hurtled down on a toboggan behind a delighted grandchild, and how she relished being able to "walk on water" on an iced-up lake.  She played tennis into her sixties and I think if they had let her she would have bungee jumped in New Zealand when she went to visit her grandchildren there. 

Photographs to capture every momentous occasion were snapped with abandon - which meant every restaurant visit, every new place she visited and each annual celebration of birthdays, graduations, awards, births and weddings.  Thousands of photographs were fervently placed in photo albums and picture frames for posterity and were pored over - she took advantage of every opportunity to reminesce and tell stories of who, what and where.  Probably her favourite introduction was "When I was in ...."

A remarkable lady who has left her mark.

Pets and my peeves.

We have always owned pets - as a child there were dogs and cats that came and went, and perhaps because I was a child, they never seemed to be any trouble at all.  The difference was, I think, that we lived in South Africa where dogs lived outside most of the time.  They may have been allowed into the kitchen to sleep at night, but no further.  Cats never had to grow thick winter fur so shedding was never a major issue.  Windows were always open and dust and fur were quickly disposed of.   We called them 'braks' or pavement specials - no-one that we knew was really into specialized breeds with three-page ancestry links.  I am not sure how vets made lots of money as we certainly didn't have our pets rushed off every 6 months for annual shots, physicals, and vitamins.  Your dog had to be licenced, wear a collar, have an occasional rabies shot, and most of us were sane enough to have it 'fixed'; and after that it was up to the gods.

Now that we live in Canada we see an entirely different story unfolding: cats are declawed and barred from leaving the inside of their homes during their lifetime.  You are considered to be adventurous and a little risky if you let your cat out on a regular basis.   These Canadian felines seem to develop enough winter fur to fill a duvet for each family member each year.  There is food for kittens, for young cats, for old cats and outdoor cats, there is special food for preventing hairballs and urinary infections.  There are pellets for cleaning teeth, and delivering vitamins, and for pampering.  And all are pretty costly.  We have whole warehouse type stores filled to the brim with parphenalia and 'must haves' for your special family member.  There is even, would you believe, clothing and accoutrements to be had - matching pink shirts, skirts, hats and sequined bows and collars.  The vet bills are outrageous and the new in-thing of pet insurance is hardly a choice anymore.

What bugs me the most these days:  the clawmarks that have made a pincushion of my sofa and chairs; newel posts that have become convenient scratch posts, cleaning upchuck on my favourite rugs.  And my favourite job of all - scooping poop from the litter everyday - although that at least beats picking up the deposits left by your doggie in a little (hopefully) baggie and holding it in your hands like a prize possession until you can garbage it at home. 

We have recently had the interesting experience of a giant German Shepherd sharing our abode - so now it's not just the constant drizzle of white cat hair on carpets and stairs and beds, but great big hunks of dog hair resembling birds nests that deposit themselves all over - heaven forbid if you miss a week of vacuuming - you will be tripping over the tufts and kicking them around like soccer balls.  And as for the wet paw syndrome - constant mopping of muddy imprints on floors, and thirsty lapping of water from the water bowl results in a river of saliva-coated water spread in every direction for a radius of six feet.  And ah, just when you want to relax on the leather couch and watch some tv - you have to first scooch Fido up to make a space for yourself!

Oh the joys!  It's funny when I was a child I never thought of all these things - and I still love my animals, but....wish it wasn't such a tough job to run around after them.

The Renovation Drama

So we took the leap, closed our eyes, and decided to do another renovation.  It seems every house we live in needs a makeover at some point - some have been harder or more complicated than others.  The beauty of this one is that most of the work will be farmed out to contractors who do this sort of thing every day.  In the past, we have undertaken the gargantuan task ourselves and faced the uphill learning curves that each job presents.  This time round we are hoping for a smooth transition from past to present.

The reality is always somewhat different than the dream or the expectation though.  We started just after Christmas last year - spending the month of January packing up all paraphenalia and chotkes on the main floor and storing them whereever we could stuff them in the basement, with a spill over deposited in the garage.  In February, the crews started marching in: the first one created the most dust and debris jackhammering the ceramic tiles up from the entrance and kitchen. 

Dust inviegled its way into every crevice and cranny on all three floors of the house, the chipped tile flew all over, landing mostly down heating and a/c ducts.  Once that was through, the next legion attacked the carpets and then laid the new hardwood all over the main floor - what a difference it makes.  Then it was over to the carpenter who gave us a new staircase and finally, the painters who gave the house its first facelift in 10 years.  We now have an interior that has finally found the 21st century.  We are very happy with the outcome - it looks great and is much easier to keep clean. 

In a gargantuan undertaking, we had the swimming pool made smaller (it used to be of Olympic proportions) and more manageable – now we have more entertainment areas, and more garden.  The pool itself, being smaller, is easier to heat and keep clean, and we have a modern pool cover that doesn’t sag into a cesspool by the end of winter.   We added a gazebo so that we can lounge outside without being in the direct blaze of sun, and the pergola – covered in a beautiful wisteria - was enlarged off the family room.   A new outdoor lounge suite and dining set, with outdoor lights and a fountain nearby has rounded off the back garden nicely.  Et voila, we have our personal summer resort!

 We are really loving the house and living here is a pleasure - no more talk of selling and downsizing.  And I think we have just about done all the renovations we ever need to complete.

Christmas in Burlington 2010

What a difference a year makes - last year this time we were in Doha, Qatar, experiencing a 50 degree celsius Christmas in a foreign land.  It was at least on a Friday so we got to celebrate the day at least.  The Christmas tree was one foot tall on the dining room table and apart from some very bizarre and weird trees being sold in stores and the few malls allowed to decorate a Christmas tree - it certainly wasn't much of a Christmas.  And no family for the first time in our lives!

This year it is all about family - we will gather together with our girls and Andrew and spend Christmas day together, starting off in the early morning opening presents and then the big turkey dinner at lunch time, and then phone calls home to South Africa.  The decorations are up, there is music everywhere, the streets and homes around us have lit up the neighbourhood with bright, festive lights, and deer, snowmen and Santas on lawns (or really in the snow!).  We are making the traditional rounds to friends for coffee and greetings.  Gifts are bought and only the usual last minute wrapping to take place.  Can't wait!!!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Promise and Potential

Here we are at the Labour Day long weekend.  First day of school is just days away, and for the first time in more years than I can remember, I will be joining the kids on their new school year journey.

It feels just like it did when I was a kid - the excitement of a brand new beginning and brand new books.  Shopping for new pencils, erasers, and pens and hoping for a new school satchel (backpack these days).  And for those of you who went to school in South Africa - the buying of new school uniforms and shoes.   Best of all, the promise of new horizons in a higher 'standard' (read 'grade' as it is now called).  I always loved the quest to conquer the information for that year, always curious about 'what next? ....except when it came to math which I hated with a passion. 

Math negativity stemmed from my year in Miss Hall's Grade 2 class - she had grey hair rolled into an austere bun, long dark skirts, eyes that squinted and stabbed at you like daggers, a tongue that lashed out when you deviated just the least from her expectations and a voice that could cut a swathe and lay desks out in a swoon.  She marched down the aisles between us, drumming her ruler on the palm of her hand to a rhythmic metronome beat, whilst barking out multiplication tables and pointing to random sacrificial lambs who had to respond within 2 seconds.  She got me every time - I was so nervous I could never answer quickly enough and so had to endure the punishment of putting out my hand and having it smacked by her ruler - oh how I hated math!


2010, however, brings with it much more charm and pleasantaries.  I am armed with a new computer, new assessment forms and a whole new list of children to serve.   I have my pens, and pencils and notebooks at the ready.  I am armed for the next 10 months - let the battle begin!