small town, big lights

Right now I'm sitting on a car hood, watching a drive in movie. This in itself isn't spectacular (although with the scarcity of drive-ins, it kinda is) but I'm sitting on a car hood, watching The Lorax at the drive in movie at the school. 

My childrens' school is so conscious of the families nearby and what would draw us all together, that they began showing drive-in movies in the heart of our community - the school. 

(Literally - the screen is up on the building!)

There are no stars tonight - it's actually spitting a little, but for the families sitting in their cars and trucks it matters little - they're cozy, full of popcorn and nachos from the concession stand, and watching a movie.  Little ones curl in the backseats, pillowed heads just peeping up over the headrests, while the adults grin at the memories of Saturday nights spent at drive-ins when they were young.

The village school - this same place that's drawing families and the community as a whole together is on the review list. It's becoming harder and harder not to express my frustration with this.

But on nights like tonight, watching the delighted faces and hearing an owl far off in the woods? It doesn't seem to matter. This is good and lasting and making memories. This school is doing what schools all over the country should be doing - working hard to keep their communities  interested and involved. 

This is worth it. 

This is worth it.

hurry scurry, time will flurry

The end of the school year is always a bittersweet time. The kids are longing to get it all over with, but there's still that little part of them that doesn't really believe that it will ever end and is horrified when it does.
The school building itself must feel the excitement. (It does, after all, frankly hum in the air.)

This month is crazy at school. There is a bike rodeo and the release of small salmon that the kids have raised from eggs. (One class will also be setting monarch butterflies free.) There will be drive-in movies (see, I told you the village school was magical!) beginning this Saturday night, and a huge weekend camping trip for the older grades. There will be a beach day for all the students. (See, when you grow up near the ocean (and have fearless teachers) the whole school gets to go on field trips to the Atlantic.)

There will be a graduation held for our sixth graders and goodbyes to the vice-principal.

And then there will be silence. The doors will be locked, and for three months the only sounds will be from the community groups that use the building.

Kinda a shock to the old weathered school, but I like to think it dozes in the sunshine, waiting for fall to make it come alive again.

Waiting, happily, for the children.

Random, random, random

Damn, I love living here.

Spent the day carousing with my friend while B sawed huge trees down (yay for forestry!) and our children ran wild and free. They went swimming again (in May! Loons, all of them) and came home , happy and saturated with the joy of it all.

My friend and I are planning a Mothers Day event for the school, and so we've been sorting tea services, finding appropriate costumes, and finding props. (Hey, it can be hard to disguise a gym, especially without the benefits of crepe paper or the gentle blurring of dusk) so it'll be props. Props a'plenty. We're practically rummaging through attics, shouldering aside the elderly. "You don't mind if I borrow your precioussssssssssssssssss, do you?"

I kid, of course. But this 'do is going to be a very cool thing.

I'm watching a show on tv called ER Vets. Reality tv featuring sad, hurting animals that come in, are treated, and (mostly) bound off at the end, happy owners and doctors smiling  while they gambol off into the sunset.
My question is WHO are these owners that don't BLINK when the vet cocks her head and says 'I think he'll need an MRI then some Xrays, and maybe some exploratory surgery before we do that root canal.'

And (I swear) the people trip all over themselves to nod, nod, yes, yes, where do I sign, not at ALL huddling in the corner of the exam rooms weeping and caressing their Mastercards (which is probably where I'd be.)
Not that I don't love my pets. ('Cause I do.) But I love eating, too. And making house payments.

The school fight grinds on. grumble grumble grumble. This may be one of those things where waiting to see what happens next is hard but necessary. And I'm not a patient person.

I've been playing Words With Friends a lot lately. I may actually  gather up the nerve to challenge my grandfather to a game soon. (Maybe. Grandpa likes to play with words. And he's crafty.)

Told you this was random.....

lunch lady

Today is my day to fix lunch at the school.

 Peeling, chopping (because our kids get the freshest and the healthiest, and that involves prep) stirring. Soon I'll start laying out the plates. 23 today (I need to double check that, actually) but I'm spellbound by the view out of the kitchen windows.

 The playground is momentarily quiet, the grassy fields just beginning to hint at restless spring green, and waiting for soccer balls and chasing games through the nearby woods. The hum of lessons seeps through the corridor - a delighted cheer, a piping far away 'You got it! Now try the next one.' The secretary laughs in her office down the hall and there's someone in the bathroom taking a very long time to wash their hands.

 This school means everything to this place, and to these kids.

 How could anyone say that this place - this joyful, encouraging place - isn't worth keeping and isn't the best thing for our children? This is their home, their base, their breath.

 This is where every teacher knows every student and their parents)and can greet brothers and sisters not-yet-old-enough-to-attend by name. Where parents are welcome and volunteers smile when they see the kids.

 This school constantly tries to be different for their pupils - to make memories. There is a big fish-tank in the office fill of just-hatched salmon eggs (the kids will release them this spring into the river that flows through our village) and the kids come to stare all-agog and comment between classes. This school houses an offshoot public library, hosts pilates and other self-help groups, regularly invites in local authors to speak to the children, and was an award winning entry in the region-wide Community Christmas Decorating contest.

Later this week there will be a giant Easter Egg hunt on the grounds. Pre-schoolers are also invited, because this open-hearted school wouldn't leave out the small ones in the community. There will be sightings of the Easter Bunny and mysterious golden eggs. It will be a good time. Why would it be any other way?

This school, this cherished, lovely snug little school, is under review. Under threat of closure. And I say again, why?

Don't try and tell me this school isn't good enough for my children.  For our children.

Because it's better than good enough. For them, it's their world.

And that's better than enough.

cat's in the cradle

We told each other that things would never change. That living so far apart didn't mean anything - how could it, to such old friends? - and we'd always talk on the phone and be able to pick up where we left off.

There were phone conversations and months-long-comfortable silences and christmas cards.
And then things
 went 
dark.

She had a new marriage, a guy that loved her with his whole heart and soul, a new business and a new outlook and was refinishing her house and she had been a whirlwind always, surely we would connect soon? and we..just..drifted..apart.

Sure, there's Facebook, but being a voyeur into an old friend's life is strange and unsettling. I've never been more aware of the public persona, of how I come off when I post. How odd it is to know someone better from the outside, and to have only memories of the inside.

We haven't emailed or even facebooked in quite awhile. Still keeping tabs on each other, still whirling in our own little orbits, but so very, very far away from the chattering girls we once were, comfortable in our own skins.

And now, to further hammer home how our lives have diverged, there is a baby. A baby! I'm thrilled for her and wish her the very, very best.

But it was odd to first learn of the baby's existence with the birth announcement on Facebook.



(please understand this is less hurt than puzzlement - how on earth did we ever move this far apart? Our lives are completely different now, and that's the way it is and will be - I'm just becoming aware of the last few tendrils of things I called home snapping lately.So how can I be homesick, when I don't really know where to call home anymore?) 

thanksgiving

That was the best, the best Thanksgiving weekend ever.

My lovely-and-wicked-smart (and they are) sisters-in-law put their heads together and came up with a fantastic way to celebrate the holiday. Bored with the usual, they hatched a plan to get us all away from home - a way to have us all relaaaaaaaax this year.

Barely an hour from home, the spot we ended up in was amazing. AMAZING. 

THIS is the view from the kitchen of our cottage.

 And this is what you saw out the front door.

 And if being tucked into a gorgeous cabin in the woods with water and myriad shades of fall leaves around didn't clear away all the cobwebs and stress, right down the road was...

the beach.

And now I have pictures of my children frolicking in the Atlantic ocean in mid-October.

 Frolicking. Swimming. Running up and down the hard-packed sand and screeching with joy like young gulls and finding treasures and swooping from the water to the sand to where the adults sat with their faces tipped to the sun and back to the water again.

This beat turkey coma all hollow. 

Magical, amazing, incredible. 

My pictures don't do justice to the beauty of the place and don't show the depth of the absolute peace there. I'm homesick, and I can't wait to go back.

it's all gone green

and warm....and there's a softness in the air....

Yes, it's Spring. (And I hear you, wondering why on earth I'm talking about this now, I mean, isn't it Spring EVERYWHERE?)

But the sad truth is that in NS it's been pissing down rain for a week and today we finally saw the sun and....

And it was GOOD.


Life is a lot nicer 'round here with a dash of sunshine.

I like being your Mom

Because you both make me laugh. Every day.

You drive me crazy, too, but I think it's part of the Kid Manual that you do that. You are stubborn and sweet, achingly tender and outrageously catty, and either one of you can wind the other up in a heartbeat.

(That does get a little tiring, actually. Just an observation.)

You're loyal to a fault and smart and compassionate, with great big hearts 

that you use to teach me new things all the time.

I love being around you. Thanks for being my kids and calling me Mom.

growing up

Well, now, this turning forty (yes. ME. FORTY!!!!!) isn't so painful after all. I mean, it was a great day!

My family and I ate Chinese, then after a flying stop at home where I learned I now have a job (squee!) I went to my book club meeting (Love those women. I am BLESSED to have them in my life.) where I was caught up in rolling, choking laughter and camaraderie and a lot of wine and flowers (two different kinds!) and a lovely pressy and so much fun,  plus munchies and cake. Then I came home to two wide-awake kids (who then had left-over birthday cake) and this morning?

Bacon, coffee, and more birthday cake.

Really, who could ask for more?

I'm not sure how I expected to feel about turning forty. My mother (who was not expected to live past her twenties) used to say she thought of every year as a gift.  I always thought by the time I was forty, I'd be settled, with kids and a husband and a great group of friends....

Oh, wait. I am.

And I'm actually really happy about it.

Here's to another forty.

playing catch-up

Last Friday, I was laid off from my job.

This was not the best time to have this happen - it never is, is it? - but it wasn't the absolute worst, either.  I'm counting my chickens before they're hatched, but I've had some (preliminary) good news on that front already, and I think bigger and better things are soon on their way.

My ticket's bought, my itinerary set - I'll be going to the States next month. A flying visit (no pun intended!) for my step-mother's memorial service. I can't wait to hang out with my Dad, and am going to see Erin too!  (Am trying to set up some other blog-friend meet-ups too, but everything's still up in the air. No worries - it's early days yet.)

I've been busy - Rosey's getting baptized on Sunday (it, uh, slipped my mind and we never had it done) and the preparations for that (The whys! The hows! The yes, the minister is going to get you wet(s)! The fancy dress! The anticipation!) are extensive. It should be a pretty service, full of pomp and circumstance and Cass reading a verse and her relatives grinning. I'm really happy that R is being baptized in the same church her brother was (although he was much, much smaller - darned second-child syndrome and lousy maternal memory) and that B and I were married in, and I'm happy that the minister that R and C happily chat with and are learning from gets to assist in the process of welcoming  Miss Rosey into the church.

Beyond that, we're having a lazy Saturday, planning to have a walk later - maybe some running through fields and kicking of rocks, maybe some exploring. 

After all, it's a beautiful day.

sybil

Ugh, I need to pay more attention to my blog! I missed my own blogiversary!

I've been blogging SIX YEARS.

Six years is a looong time in electronic years. A loong time.

Speaking of both six years and a long time, a certain girl is nearing the teenage years. I mean, it's been fun, it's been real, it's been all that and more, but.....wait......really?........

Oh, right. It's just her attitude that's pretending to be sixteen. The rest of her just fell in with the stomping and posturing.

Now, up until about a week ago I'd swear she was six.

But....lately....when she's asked to do something or told to go to bed or darn near anything, her head spins, she swings her body around and utters that horrid word "Whatever."

And then she rolls her eyes. And stomps.

I can't figure out where this is coming from. School? Her friends? iCarly? 

And just when I get my breath back from the sudden-death-puberty strike and open my mouth to address this inappropriate and egregious behavior, she'll....giggle. Or grab up her crayons and draw. Or start telling me about the (epic) story of what all her Barbies are doing.

And suddenly, she's six again.

Oh, it's gonna be fun being your Mama, Miss Rosey.  I think.

anticipation...

January is usually when I get the blahs. It's not depression, not really, but I find the usual white-blankness of the scenery unnerving. Monotonous.

Of course, this year the snow has been sporadic and many of the birds that make themselves scarce during the coldest months are confused by the weather and huddle, dispiritedly. They make little croaks of disbelief at the temperatures when it's cold and sing their hearts out when it warms.  They make sunny days a joy to be outside.

This year, some really exciting things are happening at the beginning of February.
Halifax has the Canada Games Skating Oval (scroll about half-way down that page to see a picture of it) and there is a School Skate program. So the little school here  - well, everyone's going skating on some historic ice. Pretty cool, huh?

One of the local towns, Liverpool, is trying (and succeeding!) to catch the attention of the producers of the  CBC television show 'Village On A Diet'. The town that will be the subject of next season  will be decided at the end of January.

Sue is here!  I forsee a dinosaur trip in my future....

Oh, and I can't forget my night out with the girls. Icewine, here we come!

Yes, I missed De-Lurking Day. So tell me, what's going on with you??

beau

Fire Prevention Day today. Picture by J. Evans

Today is my boy's birthday. His NINTH birthday, actually. NINE. That's a LOT.

He's so smart and wonderful, my boy. He fights with me about turning off his light at night (C'mon! I'm almost done with this chapter!) about playing outside (I played all day at school!) and brushing his teeth.
(I think it's more to irk me than anything else, since with his habit of taking thirty minute hot showers, it can't be an aversion to getting clean..)

He's beginning to realize that Santa Claus might not be all real, that his parents can't force him to eat all his vegetables, and that flashing the puppy-dog eyes at Mom will probably get him what he wants.

He wants to be in a rock band and be a scientist and a doctor and help people build things. He wants to grow his hair out and talk about tattoos and guitars and sunglasses and being cool. He loves his dad and his sister and his aunts and his uncles and misses his grandfather terribly. He is his own world.

And we're better - infinitely better - for having him in ours.

Happy Birthday, Cassidy, sweet boy. Happy Birthday, Beau!

decade

Holy crap. Have we really been married that long?

I knew I should have faked a lobotomy or something. And you should have run.

Wanna go for another round? I mean, since I kinda like you and all.....

party lobster

I walked around all weekend wondering what on earth was wrong with me.

I can't be getting old this fast, I thought. What on earth?

But still, plodding like an old mule. Tired. Heavy legs. Climbing the stairs took a long, long time. I had a nap both Saturday and Sunday. (Yes, it was delicious. But I don't usually do that, and it was starting to worry me)

Then on Sunday night I had a sunburn. And I finally clued in. (Cluelessness, thy name is Jess)

Sunday had been a day and a half.  It was Privateer Days, so the kids and I (deep breath)

went to:
a reptile show (and Cass handled a boa constrictor. I have pictures. I was too busy staring at the man that was putting a large and hungry-looking reptile on my son's shoulders making sure he knew what he was doing to really register it, but yes, my son wore a snake.

Bouncy castles.

Ate fair food. (God love the Kinsmen and their sinful, sinful french fries.)
Went to the library and the playground when it became apparent the midway people were sleeping in.
Went to the park
Dragged them home for a bit of quiet time
And ended up, like we have every day this week,
In the pool. For hours.
After a bite of dinner and a break, we roared back into town to go on the rides (I'm still the title-holding World's Meanest Mom because I won't let them go on the ride where they hang upside down)
and discovered that Miss Rosey has an incredible stomach for loop-de-loop and things you'd think would make her dizzy - not so!

She was still talking about how 'that ride made my brain feel like it was coming out of my ears, Mom! Let's go again!' when her brother finally drooped and cried uncle

and then we hung out on the playground

and watched fireworks when the sun went down.

They still had enough energy to bound up the stairs, complaining about the injustice of showers, and beg a few minutes of reading time. (They have me pegged. As long as they can get me reading, they've figured out bedtime can comfortably be forgotten.)

Then they went to bed. And it was all quiet.

I put out all the lights, struggled up the stairs one last time, and got ready for bed, realizing I was mightily red. And sore. My legs were killing me. What on earth?

Yes, Virginia, if you're going to spend afternoons in the pool, swishing and splashing and getting all sorts of unaccustomed exercise, it's best to use sunscreen.

worming right along

Cass did NOT want to do this. Last year the Worm Race had happened right after his Papa died, so he sat that one out, and this year....this year he had no interest in competing.

But it was so neat, you see. So absolutely small-town and rural and quaint, and exciting for the kids. When else can you take a small container of dirt to school and not have your teacher yell at you?

My son's school has had an annual Worm Race for over forty years. It's exactly what it sounds like - long stripes of wet dirt across the gym floor, a worm at one end, the finish line at the other. Lots of hooting and hollering, clapping and cheering.

Rosey was right out there in the yard, dragging a shovel and her father out, plotting where the fastest worms might hide, deciding where to dig. Cass dragged his heels a bit, but his interest perked up when he held two in his hand.

(Both went with two worms - one to use and a spare, in case someone else's special worm didn't want to run.)

So off they went.

And...

that's a third place medal right there.


He's marked the spot where we let the worms go, planning to re-capture his Wormy next year....

a banner weekend

The weekend started with a bang and has just been getting better.

Yesterday was the Spring Fair at the kids' school, and it was a huge, rip-roaring success. Families came from all over and played games, won prizes, ate home-made pie and cake, looked at displays, bid on items at the silent auction, and cheerfully put each other in the mock jail.

I am always astounded at the overwhelming love this community has for the school. We need this school, need this heart of the area, need the bright spot it puts in our town.

We raised over $4,000. That's a LOT of hamburgers and hot dogs sold at the BBQ, a LOT of .50 cent chances bought on vacation raffles and bubble gum guesses, a LOT of goodwill and stuffing an extra buck or two in the donations jar.

That is a darn good definition of family, in my book.

Happy Mothers Day, everyone. Now I'm off to take my children to the library and the playground, so they can play in the sun.

tea in the sahara with you

It's crazy, how a simple thing like getting together over cake and coffee can re-energize you.

Tomorrow is the inaugural meeting of a group that grew out of the literacy class I was a part of - we're plotting all sorts of good things, not the least of which will be the chance to get out and get with other women to laugh and talk and exchange ideas.

Today I did laundry and dishes and the sweeping and the mopping *Cinderella's mice burst into song behind me* and the cooking and the clearing up and all the while I kept thinking how nice it will be to flop down on that chair tomorrow and have someone hand me a cup of coffee, to giggle about stupid things and cheer each other on.

How nice.

And how timely, as the weather goes from nasty to so-so to briefly beautiful to melt and melt and melt some more, to start something new.

toy giveaway

I'm giving away a Mastermind toy over on my review blog! Leave a comment to win. U.S. and Canadian addresses can both enter!

third time's the charm

Rosey bounced up to me, beaming. 'Look.' she breathed, 'Look.'

Tight in her hand, the fingers uncurling, up on her tip-toes, watching her own palm....

barely breathing, hair swinging forward on her shoulder....

And there - there! in her hand was her tooth.


Third time's the charm, Rosey. Thanks for letting me keep one.