Send off to 2021

The snow is falling gently outside on a frigid December day. Lego all over the floor. Presents all opened (apart from the ones mailed by family members who cancelled their travel plans, and some I had wrapped for them.) AJ is reading to Dani by the window. I have things I would like to do this week but no great sense of urgency, which means I’ve actually relaxed.

I don’t really feel like doing a reflection on 2021. I sorta did that on my other blog. Alongside my contentment is the unease that is inevitable because of the weird times we live in. But deeper, and stronger, is the resolve to live with integrity, to open myself up to grace and transformation.

Also, from the book I am currently reading.

The adventure continues.

December (not so) randomness

After a long autumn, the snow has fallen and stayed on  the ground and the mercury is dropping (not that reading the temperature has anything to do with mercury anymore, in my case. I look at my smart phone.)

Today, I was supposed to take part in my stepdance group’s first (small) performance since January of 2020. But I am coming down with my youngest daughter’s cold, so I bowed out. Disappointing, but it was fun to anticipate and to practice for and there will be other opportunities (I hope).

There is one friend on Facebook, Diana, whom I still regularly interact with. Basically she is the only one. She is an unusually kind, humble, approachable, and intellectual person who holds her page, and herself, to very high standards. It’s like a Socratic classroom (with funny memes).

One of the recent memes was “Mankind wasn’t meant to work in December. We were meant to hide from wolves, drink, and pray our autumn harvest will last us through the Dark Months.”

I couldn’t agree more. I am very grateful for my job, and for the fact I have this opportunity to do something positive in the world. But at the same time, I would like nothing better than to sit on the couch and crochet for the rest of the month, and possibly well into January. Based on observations of the people around me, it’s not just me with these feelings.

I have started crocheting again, almost obsessively, after not having interest in yarn crafts for months….years? My co-teacher started a community knitting / crochet meet up group (almost by accident), and so I became involved. Then I bought a book of Harry Potter crochet patterns with the intent to inspire my eldest daughter. They are rather too complex for an absolute beginner, however, so I decided to make one, then two, from the book before giving it to her for Christmas. And so it goes. Now making deals for bootleg bargain yarn, seeing patterns in my mind…..all of it.

Diana, my gifted friend, posted a very profound question the other day: “What should I give myself for Christmas?”

She went on to specify that she didn’t mean things that could be bought, but something like a commitment to adopt a habit that may be a chore day to day, but that would make her happier and more fulfilled in the long run. A permanent change in diet, to read a real book an hour every day, that sort of thing. “If you were going to give yourself such a Christmas present—assuming you regard yourself as someone you love enough to make the commitment to—what would yours be?”

Someone did point out that that it seems to be another way of asking for a New Year’s resolution, but I like this frame so much better. There is a sort of shaming involved in the New Year’s resolution, an implication that you are not currently doing enough. Which may be true, but it misses the love that Diana’s question makes explicit. Personally, I find the winter months (January/February)  so challenging that I have zero motivation to push myself beyond the basics of trying to survive. Don’t even talk to me about resolutions or goals till March or April! But this idea of giving yourself a present….yes. This is a perfect question.

So there you have it. Winter. Gifts. Christmas. Still working on the best Christmas gift of all, the one that will keep giving.

You are the entertainment

I don’t usually read too much into my dreams. But this one seemed rather apropos of….life in general?

In my dream I was organizing an elaborate house party. I don’t recall what the occasion was, but whatever it was, I was all in! I had hired a bunch of artists to transform the house into a theatre. There were people building a stage, setting up lights and sound, and planning make up. They were a wild and creative bunch, and I was excited by the unconventional energy.

 I had also invited a lot of people who had agreed to come, but what didn’t seem to be clear to them (despite repeated explanations) was the role they were to play in this production. It wasn’t so much a sit down event: everybody had a part to play. I was excited, but as the preparations went ahead, the excitement in general seemed to be lacking and tension was growing.

At one point I was trying again to explain things to my brother. (Poor guy, it’s not his fault he was featured in my crazy dream!) All he would say to me was: “I like to sit in the front, on the left hand side.” He even showed me a diagram showing his preferred seat.

“No!” I exclaimed, exasperated. “Did nobody tell you?  You are the entertainment!!”

That landed like a lead balloon.

The next thing I knew, the stage crew was taking down the stage, the costume and make up people were leaving….someone had called everything off. “But….couldn’t we do something small….an open mic event?!” No….no takers. The artists, I was told, had figured out that no one really wanted to be there, and decided to cut their losses and leave. “But of course I would have paid you, no matter what happened!” I said to them, crushed. It made no difference.

I then woke up, relived that my disappointing dream hadn’t happened, but also vaguely uneasy. It’s true, after all, or I believe it is: we are the entertainment. It feels like, with Covid etc., that there is supposed to be an possibility to…..opt out of life? But there really isn’t, ever. There is no substitute for showing up,  acting out a story with other people.

Anyway. I am lucky, I suppose, that my life doesn’t actually lack drama, the good kind I mean. I don’t care for artificial drama. But there’s always a challenge, something to match my wits against, a mix of personalities to deal with, and yes…..costumes (no boring or ugly clothes for me!)

Dang it though, it could have been a very good dream party….

Seven

Happiest of birthdays to my firstborn! Not only was she possible, against all odds, but she is a force of nature and the goodness in humanity.

Thankful 2021

Canadian Thanksgiving is here: the frost is finally settling; the days are noticeably shorter; my friends and colleagues keep talking about pumpkin spice drinks (I am clueless) and Halloween decorations are popping up on houses (ours will go up this weekend, I imagine).

The harvest festival is associated with gratitude, so here goes, in no particular order:

1. Beautiful autumn weather. We have had weeks of mild temperatures and intense blue skies, often with a translucent moon shining in them. These were a backdrop for fall oranges and reds and pinks as the leaves turned. Some years we get barely a week of colours before there is a frost or snowstorm or gale. This year, we got about 3, which is the longest autumn can plausibly last in this part of the world. Maybe even another week or two of crisp beauty.
2. Autumn is AJ’s season and she is turning….7! She is beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful and full of positive life force (most days). We held her birthday party a few weeks early to be able to be outside and not freezing. It was an amazing success. We went to a farm themed play park and the kids had a beautiful afternoon. I felt privileged to be able to spread some happiness:
3. Participation! The kids are taking Ukrainian dance and swim lessons, and AJ is taking piano. So far, pretty good. They both love dance, and AJ loves swimming. Dani has been reluctant to participate in her swim lessons. I think most of the reason probably is that she has not even seen a pool in two years and had a chance to splash and play. So she really only wants to do that and doesn’t probably see the point of lessons. She did get in the water with her group the last week so maybe she will develop more of an interest yet.
4. Partnership: school has been a little more stressful this year, for a variety of reasons. But lots of good things happening too. We have been working with local businesses to bring in piecework projects for our students, so that they develop their vocational skills. It’s a win-win: we help out someone in our community, and our students get to work on something from the “real world” which they enjoy, and get the acknowledgement and appreciation for it. I personally thrive on the connection with the bigger community. I want people outside school to understand and value what is going on in our program.  I challenge myself to talk enthusiastically about our goals and achievements and partnerships with anyone who shows an interest.  It may just be a moment of connection and positivity, and give me practice in being an advocate for our students, which is great. Or maybe it turns into more.
5. Family! Of course without the foundation of sanity in our household I doubt any of what I described above would be possible. Mr Turtle and I try to be available and open to each other (and the kids) to process and work through whatever crazy stuff is going on in the world.  It’s a constant challenge.
6. Clarity. How would I say this.  There are ways to be grateful for difficulties, and I’ve tried over the years to articulate them. Right now the words that come to mind are gratitude for perceiving what deeply matters. What do I most need to pay attention to? I need to pay attention to my thoughts and my focus, first of all. I can physically feel the change in my body and mind when my focus shifts from one thing to another. So I try bring mindfulness to all my thoughts about what’s going on in the world and other people. If I feel tension, lack of control or resentment, I try to shift attention immediately. This may give the impression I’m disconnected sometimes (I am not sure). But what it helps me to do is stay connected and engaged when it really matters. It doesn’t matter that I know every piece of news about Covid or every (or any) strange thing people are saying on social media. What does matter is that I am mostly healthy and functional and that I can be there for the people around me when they need it. This realization has really helped me to cut through the fog in my head and out of it and engage (as much as possible) in a way that works for me and others. Nothing is perfect, but it could be so much more chaotic.

And on that note, I start another day, so onward!

Aj’s drawing

Dani’s tower

Classroom Life Star…..with life!!

Wagon ride at AJ’s party.

Pause

Sunday afternoon AJ, Dani and I were at one of our favourite parks/playgrounds. We call it “The Secret Playground” because it is tucked into a grove of trees at the end of a street and you could miss it completely if you don’t know it is there. I love it because it feels like you are in a forest meadow. There are tall evergreen trees, small fruit trees, and tangles of lilacs as well as playground equipment. The kids love all of it, often disappearing into greenery or up trees when they are done with the playground. You can always hear birds and often spot a woodpecker. These mild autumn days, the sky is a stunning blue above.

There is also a  Little Free Library in the park, a cupboard where people can take or leave books. The girls always run to check it out. On this day AJ found a battered old board book and Dani brought me a yellowed, cracked paperback that I barely glanced at. We read the board book together. I convinced AJ to put it back, and then the girls ran off to play and I picked up the paperback to return it too.

Something caught my eye; I’m not sure what. I changed my mind and took it back to the bench with me.

I had no familiarity with Gilda Radner or her work. I didn’t have a TV as a child and my parents didn’t care for pop culture (that’s a whole other story). My first assumption was that she was some 80s daytime TV star that housewives watched. But even this thought generated curiosity. I couldn’t care less for celebrity culture in general, but older books arouse a kind of anthropological interest in me. Our world changes so fast that reading something from a few decades ago is like a peek into a foreign, but also familiar culture.

The books begins in 1981 when Gilda is 35 and 

falling in love with Gene Wilder. She is a comedian and TV star, and trying to start a career in movies. But her new romance also fills her with dreams of a domestic existence. Chapter 2 is titled “The baby and the movie star.” Gilda was three years younger than my mother, but doesn’t at all resemble my mother, nor would I say she particularly resembles me. I felt bemused reading about her frenetic energy and shifting priorities. However, she is the sort of woman that I grew up aware of: a life focused on potential, the ever present message that you could “be anything,” do anything, filled with belief in unbounded potential and time.  After her wedding, Gilda says:

When I got home, I ordered stationary that said “Gilda Radner” and “Mr and Mrs Radner.” I was uneasy for a while trying to figure out when to be Gilda Radner, thr TV star, when to be Gilda Radner, a brand new person, when to be Mrs Gene Wilder, the wife of the international movie star, and when to be Mrs G. Wilder, just another blushing bride.

I decided I could be them all.

Gilda admits she stopped using birth control after she began her relationship with Gene, hoping a pregnancy would motivate him to commit to her. But when they marry in 1984, she is 38 and pregnancy hasn’t happened. She goes for a hysterosalpingogram, which shows blocked Fallopian tubes. This leaves three choices: IVF, surgery to open the tubes, or adoption. Gene is willing to try for a baby but points out they should not ruin their relationship or lives. They opt for IVF.

The historic account of IVF is both familiar but with an added layer of terror. Perhaps it is just me, but older accounts of medical procedures have the feel of a  sophisticated horror movie. Just add an internal scream or whimper after each of the following sentences: Gene and Gilda make seven embryos, but transfer “only” four, to avoid multiples. They give permission for the remaining three embryos to be destroyed because the clinic doesn’t have facilities to freeze them. Gilda must fast and lie inclined on her back for several hours after transfer, to increase chances of implantation. A week later, she starts bleeding heavily and IVF is proven a failure. Gilda is willing to try it all again but Gene, probably to his credit, refuses.

Next, Gilda has the operation to open her tubes. It is successful and she looks forward to “just” having timed sex to conceive. This is the part of the story I could personally relate to the most as that was essentially our strategy. Gilda learns of course that it can be as exhausting as fertility treatments in its own way. Like me, Gilda used ovulation predictor kits to determine when she was ovulating. I sometimes wondered why they are called “kits” when it is just a stick you pee on. Well, mystery solved. Here is how you used an ovulation predictor kit in the 80s:

I bought one of those ovulation kits where you are the scientist. You have to catch some of your first urine of the morning in a cup, mix with some powder, wait ten minutes, mix something else, wait ten minutes, mix with another thing, wait a half hour, dip a stick into the mixture and match it up with a colour chart to see whether it is blue or green or yellow. The kit costs about eighty dollars for one cycle. I didn’t tell Gene I was doing this. He was already wondering about my sanity.

Trying to conceive naturally also takes an emotional toll. After IVF, Gilda says: “…I’d lost interest in anything else. I was desperate not to not have a baby.” After the operation to open her tubes: “…as soon as I got to the middle of the cycle, the panic came in. I was always counting days on my calendar. Then when I got my period, it was like a death: a failure, another lost child.” … “I continued to dwell on the fact that every time Gene traveled and we weren’t together, I was missing an ovulation cycle, an opportunity to have a child….”

Despite the increasing fixation on having a baby, Gilda still wants to work on her career. In 1985 she and Gene go to France to film a movie, and she starts birth control again because they decide it would be poor timing for a pregnancy. She is enjoying the experience and only notices belatedly that she is having dizzy spells and her period is late. After a home-chemistry-lab-like pregnancy test, Gilda discovers she is indeed pregnant. Unfortunately, she starts bleeding a week later and has a miscarriage **. She tries to take this philosophically, reassured that pregnancy is after all possible.

It is not to be, however. Gilda’s health takes a turn for the worse, as she suffers from inexplicable exhaustion, fevers, and aches and pains. Doctors and naturopaths cannot figure out what is wrong for a long time, but ultimately she is diagnosed with stage IV ovarian cancer. A hysterectomy permanently ends her quest for a family.

**Considering Gilda’s eventual diagnosis, I wondered after if she ever really was pregnant, as ovarian cancer can sometimes cause HCG production. It is a very scary disease. You can read on social media today about women in their 40s whose symptoms were misdiagnosed. I have often had the thought that one of the “good” things about being tested for sub fertility was someone was always looking at my ovaries. Now, however, nobody is checking out what is going on in there.

Most of the rest of the book focuses on Gilda’s cancer treatment, and how she coped physically and psychologically. It is a moving and interesting story (which I am still reading). I enjoyed her explanations of how she maintained her sense of humour throughout a very unfunny experience, and I probably will look up some of her comedy after all.

It’s Always Something is a tragedy. Gilda dies just short of her 43rd birthday. But it’s usually the tragedies that make you think, not so much the comedies and their happy endings.

What did I get out of this book? It reminded me of the infertility community at its best. I’ve never been keen on the infertile label, and I think support group culture has some serious problems. However, those touched by infertility and loss do have commonality. All infertility grief is not equal, but it is immediately recognizable. We are, in the midst of our personal hell, capable of seeing our similarities, of just wanting to reach out and hold another woman’s hand, or hear her story, or share a kind word. That is something I never want to forget.

There are many ways of putting infertility into the bigger context of a life. There is the “happy ending” of parenting a child or children. There is choosing to cease and desist and live without children. Then, most poignantly, there is the context of mortality. What if the time is shorter than you think? Gilda died when she was barely a year older than me. If I had just a year or two left, what is the meaning of all the things I have tried to do?

As I read Gilda’s story I feel still more grateful for the twists and turns of my life that led to this amazing present. I’m grateful that we all don’t have to live the same kind of lives, that we can make different choices. I think about what a strange, and dangerous game it is to try and force your life to take a certain direction. I feel tenderness to the women (and men) who told me so enthusiastically in my youth that  I could be anything, do anything, have everything I wanted, even though I now think that isn’t exactly true, and I won’t say quite the same thing to my daughters.

I think too about how fast our world changes, and how important it is to pause and tell the stories, and hear them too. It’s kind of like Gilda joined me at the park one day, and I’m glad she did, so we could talk for a little while and understand each other better.

Looking ahead

We are coming to the end of summer 2021. Today is my last day of vacation; I’m back in school officially tomorrow and students, including mine and AJ, are back in classes September 1st.

Summer highlights:

• Music in the park on Wednesdays! Our local historical park, a beautiful location (and the setting of our wedding 11 years ago) hosted a free outdoor concert every week this summer. We went to many and what an awesome opportunity it was. I knew that the absence of live music was affecting me but I couldn’t fully grasp the extent of that loss until I was there in the moment and felt sanity and goodwill wash over me. I would prepare a picnic dinner and we would mosey off as soon as Mr Turtle came home from work. Sunshine (maybe a little rain), happy people, dancing, good food. It was the best.
• Camping! With a little improvisation. All the reservable campsites booked up in about 5 minutes this summer. We had made plans to go camping with friends and naively believed we could get a drop in site. No such luck. Instead of taking four very disappointed kids home again and unpacking everything we drove to our friends’ parents acreage and camped there. It felt a bit awkward initially but truthfully people are people and you get to know them best when you share some problem solving. The kids had a blast and the adults had fun too.
• Play dates! We did a fair number of these and it was great to see the kids have time with their friends and I enjoyed some great conversations too.
• Of course there were trips as family, picnics, that sort of thing. We did a couple of wonderful hikes. I like my high quality human contact and then I like to just see trees and sky sometimes too. 
• AJ took sailing camp and loved it! I am now motivated to learn more myself and get our family more involved in our local sailing club next summer. Sailing was a big part of my family growing up so it feels like continuing a tradition. At least one other friend is also interested so who knows….maybe an all woman racing team one day. Hehe.
• We are ending the summer with a generous visit from my in laws who live in the states. They hadn’t been here for a year and a half so this is a privilege. The weather, which had been hot and dry for most of the summer, and smoky for a few weeks is currently my favourite weather. Sunny, a little bit rainy, and just warm, not hot. Perfect for park outings and drives where you can see for miles.

This coming year:

• Back at the same school with the same assignment and team (hurrah!) As far as the year and pandemic stuff….well who knows. For now “everything old is new again” as we have much the same behavioural requirements in school as we did last year, at least for the next month. Vaccinations appear to be having a positive effect but the recent news is less promising. Things change so fast. But there is a bit more flexibility in that students can play in band and sports, for example and hopefully we can do field trips and off campus work experience if we can arrange it. We’ll see. My mindset is very much “one week at a time” and “take opportunity as it comes.” I’m grateful for the people around me and whatever chance I have to contribute to my community.
• AJ goes into grade 2! Likewise hopeful that her school will continue to be a positive and nurturing environment for her, as it has been so far. Grandma pretty much took care of back to school outfits, and they go for haircuts tomorrow, so we are moving through the rituals…..I just have to assess the shoe situation.
• Activities: I am continuing with my Canadian step dancing class/community, whom I’m hugely grateful for. Hopefully we can do some performing this year….but it is what it is.
• I definitely want to join a church community but it is a super weird time to be doing it….so….who knows….it will happen somehow because I have no idea when anything won’t be….weird.
• Activities for the girls! They are going to take Ukrainian dance, swimming lessons and AJ will continue with music. Our weeks will be busier! However with the exception of AJ’s music I have arranged their activities on the same days (so one commute) and as close to home as possible. Again, with Covid…who knows how things will actually look but if you hadn’t noticed, I’m all about strong connections and communities and developing skills and resilience….so we will be rocking in the free world here, every day, every way we can.

I’ll leave you with 

this story of the saint I share a name day with.  She was a total badass and very hard to kill. I’m hoping I can share even a fragment of that good energy this coming year. 

One Thursday morning

AJ reading Robert Munsch’s A Promise is a Promise. 

(Meanwhile I try to get coffee out of the jar with a butter knife. Good thing they can amuse themselves.)

Dance with me daily

AJ took tap dance this past year at a local studio. I was very excited to find it as it was about 10 minutes from our house and 5 minutes from AJ’s school. This meant minimal commuting: we would just pop in after school on Friday. I looked forward to this studio being part of our lives for many years.

Unfortunately it was not to be. The owner decided to close shop after this year. It was not directly Covid related as far as I can tell, though it was surely an exhausting year for her. She decided she needed a break after 16 years.

Toady she held a garage sale and I picked up two of the costumes. They inspired immediate joy and dancing and I actually love this photo.

I have found a new studio for both girls and very excited about it….more on that another time.

Dance With Me Daily - The Barra NacNeils

For our days are filled with wonder

Nothing should ever stay the same

Let our hearts beat the rhythm

May love show us the way

Summer bossoming

I remember being very young and admiring houses, imagining what my “dream house” might have in it. A porch, a globe on a stand, a willow tree and a spiral staircase were some particulars I remember. I don’t particularly want a globe on a stand anymore, or a staircase of any kind. I still like porches: they give a house a friendly look I think. I also really like stone and brick work. Willow trees are pretty, but some neighbours have them and they completely cover the ground in leaves in the fall. That’s a lot of raking.

At some point in my 20s or 30s, the “dream house” ceased to be a thing. Perhaps it was when my husband and I bought our house. Then we had a reality, not a dream. Or rather, once that goal was achieved we had other dreams. The truth is, I want a house with heat, clean running water, a toilet that flushes the first time, and safety and privacy. I have learned I don’t care that much about anything else. I wouldn’t want to live in a shack but I don’t envy anyone their mansion.

My other criteria when we bought our house was a yard. I wanted to be able to dig holes if I felt like it. I don’t exactly know why I had that thought  as it’s not like I dug a lot of holes in my youth. But I had a notion that a yard connects you with nature, I guess.

The nature in our yard is interesting.  I have a hypothesis that our neighbourhood wants to be a forest. Things just grow madly, trees included and I believe that without constant intervention, there would be little evidence left of people in a few years. Many of the plants in our yard preceded our presumed ownership and they will be there after we are gone I am sure.

The interior of our house is pleasant and as organized as it ever will be with children. But I have never been able to find a happy balance with…..whatever is going on in our backyard. The main reason is that we have invasive plants that evolved in some dark circle of hell. The ultimate invasive has to be creeping bellflower. If allowed to flower, each stalk can produce up to 15 000 seeds. The roots are thick and deep, often the size of carrots. Herbicides may briefly kill it but it returns from the root. Nothing likes to eat it. And if pulled or dug up, which I did week after exhausting week for 10 years, it will regrow from even the tiniest fragment of stem or leaf left in the soil.

I never was able to think of what would make our yard pleasant or attractive because of the constant battle with this many tentacled beast. Finally, last year I read online about something I hadn’t tried: kill it from the top by covering the ground. I put down old yoga mats and a tarpaulin in the areas that were worst invaded and weighed them down with bricks. It looked ghastly and sad, and fetid pools of water formed on the tarp when it rained.

It worked.

Slowly I replaced the old tarps and yoga mats with landscape paper (not even burying it, just putting it on top. My in laws gifted us with a few pretty perennials last year. I added a few herbs as Dani will pick and eat everything in the yard and I thought I could at least provide something that is actually edible. Perhaps she would learn to prefer it. The bricks and paper still looked nasty though.  But a trip or two to the dollar store gave me ideas, and soon the girls and I had collected a bunch of inexpensive decorations that we could add to our space.

All through this process I was still weeding regularly, BUT, I actually was making some progress now.

This week, we finished our initial creative spurt and I find myself feeling something unusual when I look at the yard: pride and happiness! It actually looks….pretty. I don’t feel immediate despair and existential defeat when I look out the window or step out the door.

The wide view of one corner

Close up

Out of control strawberry patch, that never makes strawberries. (Whatever. It has fertility issues I guess.) Also rhubarb.

Herbs: mint, chocolate mint, lavender, parsley. Also some leftover garlic and lettuce from my refrigerator, which I planted instead of composting.

A shady corner. I would like to get a small bench for under the tree.

Along the fence. This edge is where the creeping bellflower is still trying aggressively to push through. I’m holding it back, but it’s hard to eliminate along the edge of the paper as it invades the grass. But a stalemate is better than a rout.

We still need to do some major work on the yard. These improvements are quite superficial. We have the budget too; it’s finding the mental energy and time that has been a roadblock. But even though my efforts are relatively minor, they have made such a difference in my mental state. I actually believe we can have a pleasant space in our yard now! I feel motivated to do more. I have a sense of accomplishment. 

If there is a moral to this story, it is that total victory is not necessary to move in a positive direction. What is needed is just a little bit of encouragement. Progress is anything that is slightly better than complete and utter defeat. At least, that’s how I feel about it. I made something pretty and I even have some time to stop and smell the mint now. Next year, maybe roses.

2020 to 2021: scool perspective

 

The "Sc ool House" from Megamind

So, we are wrapping up another academic year: 2020 to 2021. If spring 2020 blindsided everyone, then September 2020 to June 2021 was the school year everyone knew would be…different. That is something; it allowed for preparation anyway.  Perhaps we didn’t know exactly what to prepare for but we could make a few reasonable guesses.

There were a lot of things that worried me about this school year, but by and large I took the attitude that having some opportunity to do good is much, much better than no opportunity. And I never doubted that I had some opportunity.

Actually, it turned out there was plenty of opportunity. Of course there were also arguments and strained nerves and stress and anxiety, because of the situation and because, well, people are people. But overall I feel very lucky to have landed where I did.

Here is an example of what we have literally and metaphorically grown this year.

In the fall I was trying to think of ways to get us outside as much as possible, for physical and mental health reasons. I came up with idea to plant some bulbs, which would then hopefully come up in the spring (which felt ages and ages away).

Planting bulbs in the fall

We found a neglected corner of an outside planter box and teachers and students set about weeding and planting bulbs.

Our garden - ready to sleep all winter

As we worked through the garden project and other shared initiatives, my co teacher and I became more and more comfortable working together. In terms of individual and collective resilience, we also found it wise to plan and teach closely. For example, if one of us was away from school unexpectedly the other was almost sure to be teaching both classes solo. (Substitute teacher coverage became increasingly poor as the Covid -19 waves impacted the city and its school system.) When the opportunity came up, we moved out of our separate classrooms into a big shared classroom.

I didn’t forget our garden through the long cold winter and its trials. I wondered if any shoots would come up at all. I thought there was a decent chance we’d get zero. But imagine my excitement when I saw several of these one day! One small success felt like it justified all the doubt and effort and was a promise for even better to come.

It's ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!! First shoots in the spring

After some more gardening and a lot of water hauling, we had a beautiful flower bed!

Flower Garden after some spring TLC

I remember taking drama in high school and learning the most important rule of improv. Whatever happens on stage, you never stop the action. This basically means never saying “No.” You can take someone else’s idea in a new direction, but you don’t just negate it. It’s an act that requires a high level of trust and openness from the participants.

I feel like at its best our special Ed class is like an improv act. We are also working closely with (so far) a couple of our CTS (Career and technology services) teachers. As the temperatures turned chilly outside and our bulb bed lay dormant under the snow, we wondered how we could grow some plants in a windowless room with only artificial light. We asked the shop teacher if he had any ideas and one thing led to another and ultimately led to this:

We are trying to teach people to call it a Life Star not a Death Star.

The Life Star is an indoor garden, and when complete will have its own lighting system and plants on most of the shelves, except the lowest one which we will put cushions on and keep as a bench (three people can sit comfortably inside).

The design is open source online, and you can learn more here:

IKEA grow globe

We got a corporate-funded grant to purchase our supplies, and the building was done over the past semester by several of our special education students, who were mentored by advanced construction students. It was an amazing partnership that worked very well for all the students, and we want to continue it in the coming years. Perhaps we will make Life Stars for other schools. We would love to create a business where students make and sell products, learning skills and getting work experience. Conversations bloom into more and more ideas for the future, and who knows how much is possible, but we intend to find out. If you hung out with us, you would want to be part of it too. What a time to be alive!

With much gratitude,

Preferably with a little less pandemic-induced stress and anxiety

2020 to 2021: Family perspective

 

AJ completed Grade 1 this past week (!!!) and according to her and anyone else whose opinion matters, she had a great year. Dani turned 3 in January and was in preschool/daycare full time. She also made friends and became increasingly chatty and imaginative. She knows the letter D and thinks all D-words are her name.

AJ made great leaps in her reading and writing this year, and after reading her Writing Workshop compositions this week, I thought  it would be fun to include a few of them to create a story about her school year.

I like to look at the snow. Look at the snow it is so pretty.

Chinook adventures

I like carving a pumpkin

Halloween 2020

I like to bake cookies. Because they are yummy.

Peanut Butter Cookies

I like to open presents. With my sister.

Christmas 2020

The unicorns are looking at the stars. And the rainbow. And the moon. They like looking in the night.

AJ and rainbow

The ladybug is walking on the sidewalk. She is looking at the sunset. She likes the sunset.

Road trip sunset

I like to ride my scooter. My sister likes to ride her bike. My mom came too. We were at the park. I feel calm. I love my sister. Me and my sister race each other. First we went on the playground. We like to play on the swings. Then we went walking.

Dani - 3 years old

AJ - 6 years old

I am learning a fun one. I go to music class.

Alice Plays London Bridge

Then finally, there are creative works such as this:

All leviathans are different. This leviathan has tentacles and horns and wings. It has 4 wings. It breathes death fire. It eats ships and islands and mountains. Death fire is not ordinary fire. It is also poisonous and dangerous. It will burn you up and turn you into toast cover you in jam and somebody will eat you and die.

And on that note, have a fantastic summer!

Sewing

 Lately I've been watching Bernadette Banner videos. She creates and recreates historical clothing and produces videos of the process. I had no previous interest in this subject, but lately have found her videos strangely compelling and addictive. Perhaps part of it is her persona: she is reminiscent of  Rapunzel hidden in her tower and endlessly crafting ...and many of us have become a tad Rapunzel-like the past year and a half.

My sewing skills however are limited to making basic repairs and alterations, so I wasn't inspired to try any of her techniques. However, a recent video about lace insertion changed that.

I watched this and thought: That's something I could potentially do. And I had the right material to experiment on: Last summer I bought the girls matching dresses for our 10th anniversary photo shoot. 

AJ really likes her dress but it was starting to get small. So I decided to take it apart and do lace insertion at the waist and side seams to make it a couple of sizes bigger, and possibly also add a lace hem.

I was still teaching in school at the time, although all the students outside our program were at home (yes Covid-19 has upended our lives again).  One of my colleagues has a lot of sewing skills, so I shared my ideas with her and she helped me with the planning and design parts of the project (luckily as I would have approached it far more randomly). I did most of the sewing.  We used a few donated scraps we found around the school sewing room. It was tons of fun.

I didn't take a "before" photo, but this is the identical dress in a smaller size (Dani's)

Finished product

AJ loved it.....she couldn't stop dancing.

(We later took in the sides a bit more as they were originally quite loose.)

I enjoyed this project and it underscored the importance of having something creative and joyful to focus my attention on. I can immediately observe the differences in my mood and attitude depending where I am putting my attention.

I also have more ideas for creation through alteration of garments....though I am working at home now and not sure when I will next be able to put the ideas into practice. Although I did just mend a broken doll, so still have some little projects on the go.

Wishing everyone happiness and outside-the-box thoughts!