Thursday School and Whoo! Go us!

 My Thursday school gives me the highest highs and the lowest lows. It's the furthest from my house, and even though the commute is pretty easy (on the highway, one exit), it did give me pause when I was considering the job - even with bad weather driving to work isn't usually an issue for me because all the other schools are so close. It's also my only K-8 school - all the others are K-6.

I thought "hm, it might be interesting being in a K-8 school." And I guess it is, in the way of the Chinese curse "may you live in interesting times". The funny thing is, I don't even have any grade 7 or 8 classes visit me regularly, but it still changes the feel of the school. There was an issue with some of them coming in at recess last year, which I didn't realize wasn't supposed to be allowed, so then they all got in trouble and I got more comfortable being the mean librarian. It is cool seeing a few of the teachers who are really good with them, but wow, is that ever not me.

I have a grade 2 class that I always do storytime with that is always fantastic, even though the kids change from year to year. They are so participatory and funny and appreciative. It's like a special magical time that I get every Thursday and it makes up for a lot. 

The other librarian is an absolutely flawless, archetypal, irreproachable librarian. The space is very cool. She does so many extra things to make it welcoming and engaging and fun. We have puzzles. We have a basket of stuffies the kids can take to read to or squish. We have lap desks and birds nests on display and a ton of plants. I would have worshiped this librarian when I was in school. 

Things I like:

1. Kate, obviously. I only get to work with her at the beginning and ends of terms, when we're not circulating and I go in to catalogue and organize and we hang out. Once a kid from another class came in to ask a question and called me "Other Miss Kate", and I took it as a high compliment.

2. My storytime with the grade two class.

3. When, every once in a blue moon, the kids shut up and actually sit or lie down and read in groups.

4. The kids all have cards, and are actually allowed and encouraged to sign out their books independently, at the main computer and a chromebook set up on a table on the far wall. This gives me more time to help kids look for books rather than sitting in one place asking 'what's your name' a hundred and fifty times. 

5. This whale who we have named Walter White.

6. Great collection - the fact that there are grade 7s and 8s does give us that.

7. Bunnies on the windows.

8. The wooden bins for the picture books. Even though I have to walk around and around trying to remember where all the different bins are and sometimes I think Kate moves them around just to screw with me. 

Things I like less:

1. No office at all. There's a room behind our desk, but it's sort of a resource room. No sink. And the bathroom is far down the hall, so I can't wash my hands as often as I'd like.

2. The library looks lovely, but doesn't feel good. It's on the second floor and has two walls of windows, and I'm always hot and sweaty within twenty minutes. It's just not physically comfortable. 

3. The desk and space behind the desk are a vortex for chaos. It honestly makes me feel a bit weepy and claustrophobic just thinking about it.

I did get a haircut, Nicole, thanks for noticing! I mean, I got a haircut, but that was an old picture, but my haircut looks more or less like that right now:

But I didn't wash my hair today before work, and I looked tired even though I did sleep last night, so I'm using an old picture for this one too. Have I made this confusing enough? 

Thirty-seven minutes until the end of November! It was so much fun doing this with everyone! I always think I'm going to keep blogging every day and then I.... don't. 

Nicole talked about all the things she loves about November in today's post, and I do think there are good things, but November does not love me, and for whatever reason I find it harder and harder to thrive as the month goes on. This has made it more bearable, and I am grateful. I am happy I found San and got in the mix. 

Sleepy Wednesday and What's in a Name

 I am having a difficult week and that is okay.

Friends, I saw every hour on the clock last night. Lucy started moving around at four like she was thinking breakfast would be not a bad idea. Usually we tell her to shut the hell up and lie back down, but today I got up and let her out and fed her on the off chance that I might fall asleep and sleep a little past 6 a.m. which is more like her usual breakfast time. Didn't work, but oh well.

Fortunately I'd had one good night's sleep in the last three, so I was able to keep my composure throughout most of the day. I even managed not to giggle outwardly when a grade-six girl came up to me and said "I told Ms. R. that I found some swears in this book I borrowed. I found some more. Can you please tell her, and also I'd like to renew it please." Something along the lines of St. Augustine's prayer "Lord, grant me chastity and celibacy -- but not yet!"?

It's almost the end of NaBloPoMo and I still have a couple of random things I didn't manage to work into posts, so (Some Number) on a Wednesday it is:

Did somebody do a post about names? I have notes for a post about names. My sister and I never particularly liked our names, but I try not to complain because how the heck DOES one name a baby effectively? It's a total crapshoot. Both my kids like their names well enough - Angus Adams turns out to be a "really sick" baseball name, or so say numerous people including a couple of announcers on ESPN when he was at the Little League World Series (they also called him Double A). Then he went to Elmira and the team nicknamed him Beef. So proud. And Eve Adams? Well, MY last name isn't Adams, and I was in labour for sixty hours, that's my excuse for what her high school math teacher called "the whitest name ever". It's also the same name as a Conservative MP, who Eve wrote a really sweet letter to when she was little (ending "from, Eve Adams (me. Not you)."), and got a sweet letter back, and then we realized that Eve Adams was somewhere to the right of Attila the Hun and regretted letting Eve write the letter a little, BUT then there was a headline in the paper that read "Eve Adams told to behave", and come on, that's funny, right?

When they were in high school they were given names that were their first initial and the first four letters of their last name before the @ symbol. This had to be altered in a few notable situations - Emily Boland ended up with Ebola and Maryam Yassin was Myass. 

Completely awkward segue into last summer when we were at our friends' cottage, where you have to walk down a ten-minute switchback trail to the water and then back up, which results in everyone being newly hot and sweaty (and sucking wind to an embarrassing degree) by the time we get back up to the cottage. Someone realized that there is a hose on the lower deck, and thus was born.... The Hose Shower. We put little bottles of shampoo and soap on the railing and people who cared about getting clean before dinner (read: women, sorry for the stereotyping, but here we are) would stop for a refreshing interlude, in which the name was just part of the wonderfulness of the entire phenomenon. "Come on, let's get these hoes showered." "Into the shower, hoes!" 

I know, I know. Some of us have never had a headline warn us to behave, and it shows.

Warming and Colding

 I'm having a bit of a mental health bobble, and the commiseration over sleep stuff was welcome yesterday. 

I did stay up too late, but fell asleep and slept well. Lucy and I had a cozy morning. I think it was Suzanne who mentioned loving her flannel sheets and wow, same. I was worried that perimenopause would rob me of the joy of flannel sheets, which would have been exceedingly shitty, but as long as I still wear shorts and a tank top, the flannel sheets are great. I bought a set from Bed Bath and freaking Beyond (Sex and the City callback) a couple of years ago and was so immediately smitten I bought a second set. I always get in bed and read with no covers on and the fan on me for the first ten minutes or so so I won't overheat, but this results in very cold feet with regular sheets. When I pull up these ones it's like the bed is hugging me. 

I also have this diffuser from Saje that sucks as a diffuser but is a perfect night light. When I turn off the light and read in bed with my ipad with this on it's like the whole ROOM is hugging me. 

Lucy also approves.

Then we went for a walk because it was sunny and beautiful.

Crack-your-nipples-off cold, but beautiful.

I am getting the things done that needed to get done today, and I feel nicely loosened up after the walk, so I'm not sure why I feel like I'm about to burst into tears. Brains, man. They're weird. 

I made my dad an appointment for bloodwork. Taking my parents for bloodwork was, for the longest time, an ordeal that would make the bravest soldier cower. One of the more memorable occasions is described here (this post is always easy to search because of one memorable phrase - any guesses what that phrase might be?) About a year ago, LifeLabs moved into the neighbourhood, and if I'd known what an improvement it was going to make in my life I would have greeted them with confetti and song. I still make the appointments, but they can drive themselves there! Even my mom! It's at the nearby shopping plaza so she likes to go and then go shopping after! It is THE BEST THING. 

Then I emailed to make my dad's hand surgery appointment. The hand surgeon's admin assistant works by email instead of phone, which I absolutely love. 

Then I washed my CPAP machine and cleaned the kitchen and everything is FINE, everything is GOOD, but I am weepy and weird. Partly it's that time of year where all the moisture has departed the vicinity, and just before I get a migraine I always feel like all the moisture has been sucked out of my body, so right now I'm feeling constantly pre-migraine. Or maybe I am pre-migraine, which would explain a lot. 

Angus texted the family chat that it is likewise cold as balls in Ithaca. Eve is happy because it is snowing in Hamilton. Matt is in New Jersey and I am not sure what the weather is like there. 

I just finished my five-page letter to Matt's aunt that I've been working on for days, so clearly I am an unstoppable dynamo today and my brain should shut the fuck up. I suppose my dog and I will go and sit on the couch with fuzzy blankets for a spell and see if that helps. 

Wednesday Afternoon School

I have been absolutely stupid tired all day. 

If someone said this to me, I night ask "do you mean it's stupid how tired you are, or that you are so tired it's making you stupid?"

If you asked me this, I would say "yes".

I went to be early last night. Well, no I didn't, but I went to bed less late than usual. I forgot to set my alarm, but I woke up in time to get ready for work, and usually this means I feel more rested than usual. I yawned so much I felt like I was going to swallow my own head. Fortunately, Mondays are crazy busy and it goes very quickly, which is fortunately when you feel like you have a micro-nap every time you blink.

So. My third school.  I think I've been there for ... a couple of years? Time's lost all meaning. 

Things I like:

1. The school has a very nice feel. The vice principal comes and gives me chocolate on every Appreciation Day for whatever I am, I can't remember what exactly they call it, leave me alone, I'm tired. 

2. They have the greatest art in the halls. And robots in the library.

3. The books are arranged so that shelving is almost effortless - spinning racks, stationary racks, bins. We have a parent volunteer who comes in to help shelve on Thursdays, and I have to actively stop myself from shelving books so there will be enough for her to do. Every other school I shelve frantically in every spare moment, so this is a switch. 

4. The main librarian isn't a stickler for not letting kids who haven't returned books borrow books - they can have up to four before we start cracking down. 

5. There's a plexiglass wall in front of my desk. It was put there for Covid, but it remains. I love the kids, but they are sticky and have no sense of personal space, and it's nice to have a virus shield.

6. Most classes are really lovely, like unusually so. The grade sixes don't just say thank-you after I check out their books, they tell me to have a nice day. 

7. There's no sink in the office, but there's a bathroom just outside the library door, so it's not hard to nip out and wash my hands. 

8. It's probably the closest to my house of three libraries that are all very close to my house. It's beside the high school where my kids went, and kitty corner to where they took piano lessons. It's a spot that has good associations in my mind. 

Things I like less:

1. The space is big, but the low beam makes it feel less expansive. The light over the desk is perpetually burned out, so it always feels a little bit dark.

2. This library is notoriously over-heated. The first time I walked in I wasn't sure I'd be able to stay. There's a small fan on the ground behind my chair, and I bring in another one for the desk. 

3. The office is tiny, and very crowded. 

The light switch is behind that shelf. Picture trying to find it in, you know, the dark. Schools never get enough librarian hours, and I don't for a minute judge the librarian for this level of chaos, but it stresses me out - it is the very opposite of good feng shui. I always feel tempted to rearrange stuff, but I don't want to move it where she won't be able to find it. 

I was so happy to get home today I nearly wept. But now my husband is in New Jersey and Lucy has been sleeping ever since we got home (maybe it's just something about today across the board) so I'm either going to go to bed at seven or stay up way too late because there's no one here to calibrate my bedtime by. 

Three! More! Days!

It WAS So Much Fun!

 We were down one person, but otherwise it was perfect. It was a beautiful day.

We wandered around, shopped a little, ate a little. 

We wondered why Collette couldn't find her sunglasses, and then we wondered how the heck Collette's glasses got into the back of the Rav, when she had already lost them BEFORE she got in the Rav, and then someone realized that Collette had folded down the seat to help Margot find her seatbelt receiver, and her glasses were probably on her head and fell off and slid over the seat into the back. Then I asked how the heck we were even allowed out in public unsupervised and Susanne said 'what do you MEAN? We figured it out, we're brilliant!'

We drank a little. We fought some burrito duels.

I won the Fear Me badge for one round

We sucked real bad at Pictionary

We theorized about this store. Do they do miraculous things to your hair? Or is it a hair salon for supernatural beings? Like, vampires can't see their reflection so they'd need a stylist they can really trust. Werewolves would probably have to pay extra.

And then I slept like a drunk baby.

Oh, and just for Engie, Collette and I were super happy about this:

Hee hee. Sorry for being a 

Day 25

I am doing this today. With slight variations based on it being a whole new year. I am driving because Collette's cottage is a half hour past where Matt's grandparents used to live, and it is one of the few places I don't get anxious about driving. I will tell you all how badly I did at the games and if I spent too much money and ate too much cheese (I almost certainly will) tomorrow. 

Crap, I'm out of tequila. 

Five for Friday

Last NaBloPoMo Friday!

1. So I just read Swistle's post mentioning breakout out her pine-scented soap right after Thanksgiving, which reminded me of ccr in MA saying she hoped my snowdrop soap smelled as good as it sounded, which is a funny collision of thoughts because - wait, what even is a snowdrop? Oh, it's a hardy herbaceous plant that perennates by underground bulbs. Huh. Anyway, the soap DOES smell lovely, but last year I bought some Pecksniff's pine-scented soap at Homesense because I had bought two kinds of Pecksniff's liquid soap before, in lovely rectangular containers with lovely subtle scents, but friends, this was the very OPPOSITE of subtle. It was, in fact, like being waterboarded in a bucket of Pine Sol. I offered it on my community giving group and someone else took it, and if they had almost no olfactory receptors I'm sure they were very happy with their free soap. 

2. My kitchen smells amazing and not remotely piney right now. Tomorrow is an annual overnight at a friend's cottage with a group of girlfriends and I am making the soup I almost always make for it. The LCBO, our provincial liquor control board, puts out a gorgeous quarterly magazine full of recipes and, well, ads for booze. I love looking at it but most of the recipes are a little too fancy for me. The two exceptions are an amazing ribs recipe, and this soup recipe from 2012, which I've made at least annually (usually more often) since then. 

The mirepoix

3. I had a date to go to a Christmas market at the museum where a friend works with another group of girlfriends. I suggested the day myself a month ago, but when I suggested it I pictured it being crisp and snowy, and instead it was dreary and rainy. My friend Dani (HI DANI) drove me and told me her "U" theory of making plans - you make them at the top of the U and are all excited about going out and seeing your friends for something fun, then the date approaches and you're at the bottom of the U - tired and anxious and regretting making plans - and then you actually force yourself out and find yourself at the top of the other side of the U because it actually is amazing to see your friends. But godDAMN I am hating the dark evenings and feeling bitter about DST. Dark in the morning is better! You know the light is coming soon! Dark in the evening just leads to more dark! Okay, last time complaining about this this year. Maybe. 

The great hall at my favourite museum

4. My friend Jody (HI JODY) and I have gone to the One World Bazaar twenty minutes away in Manotick three years in a row. They have a bunch of fun stuff for Christmas shopping. The first year I took note of the whimsical wooden ducks scattered around the entire venue but didn't buy any. I knew when I went back the second time I was buying one. I had to decide between two, and I went back this year thinking I would probably buy the second. I was correct, as it turned out.

The turquoise boot one came first. I thought after the purple one I would be done, but THIS year there was a new one with yellowy-orange boots, so I might have to buy one more - three is kind of a magic number for me anyway. Then I'll be done. Probably. 

5. I have started writing my Christmas cards uncharacteristically early. By which I mean I have started writing one very long card + letter to Matt's aunt who I met at Nana's funeral and found out that she knew a surprising amount about me and my family just from talking to Nana. I sent her a Christmas card that year, and got a reply November of the next year, cementing my impression that we were kindred spirits. Unfortunately, this meant that I did not get to her card the next month (last December) and then January came and I fell off a cliff mentally and emotionally, so here we are. It is a very long letter, which I hope makes up partially for the lateness. 

How Do You Say "Bite Me" in German?

 I think I've mentioned that I took a beginner's German course years ago, I think it was the summer before fourth year. I had English and French courses, but I needed one German to apply to the Comparative Literature program I wanted for grad school. 

I had to start one week late because there was some mix-up at the registrar's office and they thought there wasn't room and then there was. The instructor was a little wary when I showed up because it was a three-hour intensive course once a week, but I didn't have any trouble catching up. I tend to pick up languages easily at first, and then stall out when it comes to being able to write or converse beyond a certain level.

The class was a wide mix of people - undergrads, grad students, adults who were doing it for interest. It turned out that one of the other undergrads was an engineering student who my future husband (engineering physics student) knew slightly. He clearly fancied himself a bit of a punk - black leather, spiked hair, belligerent attitude. At one point we were all out at the campus bar and he said he was getting a ninety in the course, and 'yes, I am switching to Humanities next year'.

What I should have said: 'Dude, it's a beginner's language course. Do a third-year seminar in Theories of Decolonization and Resistance and get back to me.'

What I actually said: Nothing - I was 22, and socially awkward with low self-esteem.

Why am I thinking about this on this dreary November morning, and getting mad all over again, you might ask? I did too, actually. Then I stopped to trace the thread of how I had arrived here.

I was thinking about our friends stopping by Saturday evening on their way home from dinner, which was fun and spontaneous. Then I thought Matt and I almost never go out for dinner alone, because he travels so much, but if there's an event for someone's birthday or a group dinner on the calendar we'll go if he's home. I thought we should go out for dinner when he's home again (wait, he is home again, isn't he? But I'm out tonight and away on the week-end and then he's gone again. Sigh). Then I tried to think of restaurants I've been wanting to try. I thought of one in the market, and then I thought "wait, I went there accidentally with Eve when we were in the market in the summer, we picked a little place with a patio and I didn't realize what it was until I looked at the menu. Amazing pork belly tacos."

Then I thought about the tiny little tables, and how shortly after we got there it got really busy and the waitress looked stressed, and I tried to reassure her she didn't have to hurry with us. Which reminded me of years ago when I was with Matt and another two friends at a little hipster cafe in Hamilton, and the waitress turned out to be someone I knew from class. It also got very crowded and she apologize for the service getting worse as it got busier, and we said it was fine, we weren't in a hurry. Then I remembered her boyfriend was that jerky guy I took beginner's German with.

And all that happened within about ten seconds.

Brains are so awesome and weird. 

Day 22: The Posters are Fiv -- SIX Dollars Each

 And then today I nearly clean forgot to post. Most days this month have been easy, which has not often been the case. 

Today was the viewing day at two schools for the Scholastic Book Fair. I love the book fair, but I kind of hate the viewing days - it's all the stress and noise and insanity of the actual fair without actually selling any books. I had double classes much of the time, and the number of times I had to tell students to stop blatantly breaking the rules I had gone over thirty seconds earlier was...high.

The pencils and erasers and highlighters and stupid gadgety stuff was covered completely at my morning school, and will be until students come in with their parents - too much theft and damage happening otherwise. At my afternoon school it was covered with clear plastic wrap so kids could still see it. This was.... a choice. (About the comments commiserating with me over the toys on the desk at my Wednesday morning school - I felt half vindicated and half sorry for throwing the other librarian under the bus, ha ha. I guess there are two ways of viewing it - leave the temptation there and count on it teaching the kids self-restraint, or acknowledging that kids don't have self-restraint and deciding to remove temptation so you don't flip your shit and go to jail for brutalizing a minor).

I started the day bright and calm and grew progressively more frazzled. I said 'don't touch that stuff, just look at it' a couple dozen times, progressively louder and more snappish until I finally yelled it and then just started laughing at the absurdity. A grade four student looked at me sympathetically and said "kids these days!" Another child asked me what one stupid microphone-shaped something was and I said "overpriced crap that will break within seven days, go look at the books". Then they mostly stopped asking me.

Do you think this is a joke, beyond the obvious? 

I have plans with an awesome group of women tomorrow night, which means I can't help out with the parent-teacher-interview-evening stretch of the book fair, which is in most ways a really good thing, but I kind of bizarrely miss it. I did it so many times one dad at my kids' old school thought I was a Scholastic rep. I still miss doing the book fair with that librarian, she had a British accent, and hearing the kids imitate her pronunciation of 'book fair' and "Fart Powder" was priceless. 

Is that enough? I'm so tired. 

I am determinedly NOT going to call a post "I think I can, I think I can" over the next few days, because I'm sure I've done that multiple times in past NaBloPoMos. But we can, right? We're doing it! Let's hold hands and ... well, not sprint yet, still eight days left. Anyone want a power bar? 

(p.s. I nearly posted a link to the Fart Powder book series on Facebook, instead of a link to this post, which would have confused the hell out of my friends on Facebook. Long day.)