I don't have bus legs, no.. No, I don't.

I went to Ottawa to visit my lovely friend Callyn. While there, I did a few things. I got to speak in English with many people! I also got a new book to read once I finish the Book of Negroes. I'm finally going to read The Time Traveler's Wife. Then after that, I'll read The Help (borrowed from Callyn). I am excited. While in Ottawa, I also got to eat homemade pizza with Callyn, sit on her living room floor to talk about life stuff, and I developed bus legs.

What are bus legs you ask? Things I seriously lack. 

If you know me even a little, you know that I tend to be clumsy sometimes. It has improved over the past couple years but the tendency to trip over my own feet is still buried deep inside somewhere. Riding a bus brought that back. My first time having to stand up on a moving bus was a little unnerving. My suitcase tumbled over into the aisle, my purse fell into a lady's lap, I hit the man behind me with my backpack and I tripped over my suitcase. 

I had traveled by train for twelve hours to Ottawa. I felt tired but exhilarated with the spontaneity of this trip. However once I got to Ottawa, I stood in the middle of the train station and looked around myself. I surely looked like a typical tourist. My camera hung around my neck and I clutched my suitcase as I stared up blankly at the huge departure/arrival sign. But, I didn't exactly need to know anything on there, I just needed something to stare at as my thoughts ran around in my head helter-skelter. Staring at that huge sign my thoughts went something like this:

 "I'M ALONE IN OTTAWA!Ihavetofindthebus..why won't my purse stay on my shoulder.. thatmanhasahandlebarmustache.I can't wait to see Callyn. Bus.bus.bus.bus.bus. OTTAWA! English. people. English people. Need.Coffee."

For real. So once I stared enough, caught my breath, and calmed my mind, I looked around for a bus transit sign. Nowhere. Okay. Go outside, buses are outside. Finally I found the massive Bus Transit sign and followed it. Then I got on the train, and realized that I needed to grow bus legs really fast.

But as you read above, it did not happen on my first standing-up-bus-ride where I nearly knocked a man out with my kitbag. Okay, maybe an exaggeration. But that first bus ride was not exactly pleasurable. I'm sure it was amusing for the rest of the sardines in that can though. 

A few pictures from the trip:

This was so that we could eat pizza on the floor and talk about life.. like we used to!

If you know me, you know Cow (or at least have heard of him). This is Callyn's monkey, or baby (he's also an ambiguous creature like Cow). 

At Parliament. (PEI plate!)

I got to see the war monument. Was important for me to see since I didn't get to go to a ceremony or anything since I'm in Quebec. Shortly after this was when I was sung to by the strange man.

The one picture we took of ourselves. In the train station right before I left Ottawa.

WAIT!... Does Jesus even speak English?

"WAIT! Stop!... Does Jesus even speak English?"

You may wonder how this sentence could ever make its way into a grade eight English class. Allow me to explain. But first, I'll tell you some about this unique grade eight English class.

My students are great and constantly crack me up. Twice a week I have a full afternoon with my Sec II+ students - for those unfamiliar to the Quebec education system, they are my advanced English grade 8 students. I am spoiled. There are eight of them and not only do they make me laugh, they also impress me with their English skills every day. 

Like I said, twice a week I have these students for the whole afternoon with Miss Marie-Josee and rarely does any French slip out. For the first half of the afternoon, we work on their English play and for the second half we do "Games with Miss Becca"; thankfully, when Miss Marie-Josee announces this there is a general little chorus of "Yay!" from the eight students. 

The Sec II+ always love the opportunity for some "friendly" competition. Today I played my variation of Scattergories. Please be impressed that my students could come up with:

a) a colour that begins with "S". SALMON! I've played Scattergories a lot over the years and coming up with a colour that begins with "S" is very challenging.

b) a verb that begins with "T". TRANSFORM! Like, seriously? Not "take", or "talk"... transform. Yeah, they rock.

Okay. So that is how my students impress me. Now for how they crack me up.

Today, I was with the Sec II+ students and for the first half of the afternoon we practiced our play. It is their big project and is also to help raise money for the big English trip at the end of the year. We went on a mini field trip to the church across the street (the only street in Les Hauteurs) where we will put on the play later in March. Now, in the script there are a few lines that my students were debating about once we got in the church. They were unsure of how appropriate it was to say these lines in a church. 

The lines are:

"Kyle! You are evil!"

"I swear I'll put it back where it belongs."

It was quite a heated little debate among them. I put my 2 cents worth in, saying that these lines were not that big of a deal. Miss Becca was ignored as they continued on their argument. Finally, Rosa's eyes got huge as she had this epiphany:

"WAIT! Stop!"

Everyone turned to the girl who would have the solution.

"Does Jesus even speak English?!"

They all looked at each other, amazed that they hadn't even thought of this. Crisis diverted ;)

Cookies, a Camera, and a Cat = Time Passers

I don't get bored very easily. I can usually find something to make time go by quite nicely whether it's reading, watching a movie, writing, going for a walk, or what-have-you. 

But tonight I am beyond bored!! Emily is coming to visit Rimouski but her train doesn't get in until 1:23 AM and I've been going stir crazy since 8 o'clock. Here are the things I've done to try and make the time pass faster:

-watched a movie

-cleaned my room

-cleaned the kitchen

-baked a batch of cookies

-danced around the apartment

-picked on Murdoch some

-did an impromptu photoshoot of Murdoch

-did French grammar exercises

-did an entry in my journal

-made Em's bed up and then realized that I can't close my bedroom door once the air mattress was down and the bed made. You might think that this wouldn't be a time filler. But it took a while to a) gather all the blankets Em would need to stay warm and b) to realize that a twin air mattress barely fit on the floor in my room and that we'd have to lift the mattress straight up to close the door. 

-and last but not least, I posted this semi-pointless blog entry. Trust me, once the weekend passes, I'll have a much more interesting post and pictures from Em's visit.

And would you look at that - it's time to head to the train station now!! Can't wait! :) Night world!

"It's Aaron"

Remembrance Day 2011 has passed and I hope you all found a way to remember the brave men and women who fought for our country, lost their lives, or are still standing on guard for us all. This is a memoir I wrote a year and a half ago about a time in my life which made Remembrance Day all that more significant:

--It had only been seven months since he left. It was only supposed to be six though and now there are still two more to come. The days felt so long. It wouldn’t be so hard if he had been older, or if they had been more familiar with the circumstances. Some days were better and some just plain felt as if they would never end for his mother and father; they hated seeing their baby gone. Matthew, the oldest of the family, was going to college in New Brunswick and faced days of feeling alone and expecting to be the last to hear of anything, but sometime the first to hear of something. David, the youngest of the family, was no longer in the same school as his older sister for she went to the high school and he was still in junior high. Teachers noticed the blank looks on David’s face from time to time – instead of being attentive or even his usual talkative self, he would completely tune out the world and think of him. Rebecca, the only girl, faced the controversial topics that often came up in her modern world history class, she faced people making off hand remarks that weren’t meant to stab or create pain. There were some days where she just wanted to stay at home, curl up in the living room, and read all day. Their mom found it hard to not think about it, to not worry, but she prayed – oh did she pray. And their dad, the rock of the family, prayed alongside his wife. 

Still they were so proud.

Then, there was Aaron. There were days when he found it hard not to think about his family and friends and what they were going through. There were days though when only the tasks at hand were on his mind. He did his best to hold it together; he didn't want to give his family and friends more reason to worry. He was there, he was doing this for his country and was proud to do it. No, things wouldn’t be the same for him. Yes, war had changed his life. But he was stronger because of it.

One Saturday afternoon, the phone rang while his family was sitting at home after a busy week of school, work, rehearsals, practices. Mom glanced at it and Dad tensed up, David ran downstairs and Rebecca put down her book. In the past seven months, this was the typical reaction to the ringing of a phone cutting through the previously calm air of the Judson home. It could be Matthew calling just to chat with the family, Grammie calling to see when Dad was going to drive the dalia bulbs over to Montague, a neighbour asking to borrow a few eggs, or it could be from a little place called Kandahar. In the few seconds that that phone sat ringing, every possibility played across the minds of Aaron’s family and in those few seconds, your heart felt like it was going to break or become overwhelmed with happiness. The feeling of your gut pulling tight together and that lump forming in your throat was inevitable and terrifying every time it happened.

Mom reached over and picked up the phone. “Hello?” There was a long pause and everyone knew it was Aaron. “Hi dear.” She said it in the tone that spoke so many things; she was grateful it was not a commander, terrified her son was injured, hopeful that he was coming home early, and simply happy to hear his voice. The look on Mom’s face though spoke something different this time and she nodded as she fiddled with a loose string on the couch cushion, “I know sweetie. I love you too.” A long pause. “Here’s your father.” Aaron spoke with each of them, a quick hello and I’m doing well, then a pause where he said: “I just want you to know how much I care about you. I love you.” Then the typical response of “I know, I love you too, Aaron.” This was not a regular phone call from Aaron about how he was doing– it was different.

It was a month before they heard from Aaron again. A very long month. Everyone knew something was up, but they held it together and learned how to rely on one another. Mom never prayed so much in all her life as she did that month. There were many calls from Matt in New Brunswick to see if we had heard anything yet. But finally, mid May, there was another phone call. Mom glanced at it and Dad tensed up, David ran downstairs and Rebecca put down her book. They all looked at the phone as Dad picked it up and said “Hello?” into it.

A smile broke across Dad’s face: “It’s Aaron.” Those two words together were some of the most relieving and calming words that had been spoken in that home for the eight months Aaron had been gone. They gave hope back to a family who had worried they’d lost a brother, a son, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, and a friend. A loved one.
Those two words reminded us that God has everything in control. We would pray, love one another, and draw close to God. It was a reminder that everything will be okay even if the outcomes of some circumstances in life are bad.

A month later, Mom, Dad, Matthew, David, and I found ourselves in a large crowded hall filled with hundreds of people waiting for the large doors at the end of the hall to open. As we stood amidst the crowd, we could hardly see over the many heads as the doors slowly opened up and dozens of brave men filed through the door and then in a moment were drawn into the arms of their many loved ones. Tears and laughter were everywhere.
We craned our necks, looking out over the crowds for a tall man with dark red hair and a look of determination on his face. Suddenly, someone caught sight of Aaron and called out “It’s Aaron”. Those two beautiful heart-wrenching words once again overwhelmed us and we were surprised by the joy that overtook our family. Mom, of course, claimed the first hug, but soon after I got in there and was hugged by my big brother. I wanted to hold onto him for much longer and never let him go again but I, of course, had to give everyone else their turn in hugging the red-headed soldier. I sighed as I watched him smile at all of us and he was already joking about the crowds of people in true Aaron-style.
He was home. --


I wrote this memoir a year and a half ago for a class about a time that I was "surprised by joy" in my life. The time I’ve written about was one which I will never forget. I hope that even though Remembrance Day has passed that you will continue to remember those who fought for our country, they put their lives on the line so that we could have freedom. It may have been WWI, WWII, the Vietnam war, or in Afghanistan - but many lives were lost and we must pay our respects for the bravery they have shown. 

Lest We Forget.

Keep remembering. Keep supporting. Keep praying.

How to Lose a Public Conversation Filter

It is part of human nature to unintentionally turn an ear to an interesting conversation that happens near you in a public space. Some may call it "eavesdropping" but I call it inspiration! I used to love sitting in a coffee shop, cafe, wherever, with a pen and notebook and imagine the context of a story I was accidentally listening to nearby. Sometimes it was intriguing. Sometimes it really was not. But usually it was fun to people watch and listen.

However, I totally forgot about the "Public Conversation Filter" (this is a Becca-created word by the way, do not use it in any academic way). The PCF is something built into our DNA. Or maybe it is built by society. Regardless of how it wormed its way into our brains, the PCF is there. It does weird things to us when we are conversing in public:

It causes us to speak in lower volumes.

It causes people to omit certain facts depending on the company.

It causes us to put our Name Coder to use - especially if you are in a location where the people around you may know everyone you know. Some fellow Crandallites have benefited from this, some have also suffered because they forgot to connect the Name Coder to their PCF. Instead of calling him Joey, probably should call him Mr. Anonymous.

The PCF also causes us to avoid certain topics. It causes us not to laugh at things that we shouldn't laugh at in case those around you may raise eyebrows at you.

Want to rid yourself of your Public Conversation Filter? Tired of subconsciously thinking before you speak in public places? Tired of being a product of the society-bred PCF? Tired of accidentally overhearing people's life stories?

I have found the solution: Move to a place where you think no one speaks your language.


After moving to Rimouski, I quickly became used to speaking with no reservation in coffee shops, restaurants, stores, on the street. We'd talk about anything and everything. Things that you normally wouldn't ramble on about in a place full of Anglophones. We don't change our volumes. We laugh hysterically. We make strange noises, imitations, gestures, and simply don't care because we are just the crazy English people in the corner. My PCF became non-existent. I have also become an expert at blocking out all conversation around me and focusing on my book, conversation, task, or whatever. Not because I can't understand a word - no, if I really concentrate and try hard, I can understand the main ideas. But that's the thing, I have to REALLY concentrate.

However, we were in Quebec City last week. People speak some English there. Most people know enough to really follow a conversation. There are also a lot more tourists - English tourists. Or just Anglos living in Quebec. We quickly came to the realization that for the past two months we have assumed that because most Rimouskians only speak French, they don't understand English. In reality, this is not true; but once you get a taste of the freedom of conversing without reservations it is hard to go back.

So, I may have to charge up the PCF a little more. Just a little though because it's not nearly as fun to run the Public Conversation Filter at full power.

I'm just going to go on convincing myself that I sound like I'm speaking in an alien tongue.

The Week of Halloween

Tonight is the actual Halloween in Rimouski (and everywhere else). But it has felt like Halloween for the past few days. Maybe I didn't notice, but back home, costumes normally don't come out until the day before. Not here though. They walk down the streets in their costumes, go to work in their costumes, go to the hockey game in their costumes. It is a big deal! On Friday I played a game with my Sec II students and at one point in the game I told the students to "step over the line" if they liked Christmas MORE than Halloween. Only a few stepped over. Seriously, people love this holiday here!

People back home would be so proud of me (People=Mom and Em)! I made my own Halloween costume. Not just put it together with pieces around the house like when I went as Pippi Longstocking a few years back. I already had the red hair and freckles, I had mismatched socks and little black flats, and a torn Disney princess shirt. I was all ready to go.

Not this year folks. I went out and bought several metres of organza and sewed it all together to make a little gold and brown tutu. Then I got some fake leaves, ribbon, and flowers which I glued all over the skirt. I twisted a garland that had little red and gold berries on it into a wreath for my head. After my wand was made and my face makeup done - I was ready to go out as Autumn. 

Now, I didn't go out as Autumn alone. No, that would be silly. With me was Spring, Winter, and Summer. I must say that after several hours of creativity, glue, silliness, and glitter - we looked pretty good.

Also - a fun French/English fact for you: The term Trick-or-Treat is purely an Anglo thing and Rimouskians don't understand that in English communities, tricking happens! My sec II students were very surprised to hear about the common egging, TPing, and other such antics that went on around Belfast in my earlier years. I worry that I gave new ideas to some of the boys. :S

Happy Halloween everyone! Be safe. Have fun! And make sure you don't eat all your trick-or-treaters' candy before they ring your bell!

Listographer

Last Christmas, a close friend of mine got me one of the most genius books ever made. It is called "Listography". On every page in this book there is a title and below the title - blank lines. I have slowly been filling up my Listography and the point to this book is to have an autobiography in lists. I started this blog post to share my most recent list (I'll share it at a different time) and I got carried away looking through my listography. I want to share one of my favourite lists:

List the best days of your life (in no particular order):

-The day Mom told me she registered me for figure skating.

-Grade 9 grad from Belfast

-The night Dad and I watched "Love Happens"

-That night that Dad let me cry in his arms

-The day that Mom let me skip school and we had a mother/daughter day of shopping and I got a "Kitney Spears t-shirt and yellow biking shorts". I was a cool kid.

-Closing night of Footloose

-Prom day, but because of the progression of "Unproms" that followed.

-The night the old gang went to the Wood Islands lighthouse.

-The time that Lin and I went camp shopping and met "Handbone", and got a sub for a young homeless girl.

-That time that the old gang stayed up all night at Em's chatting about life.

-The day in Guatemala when I met Azucena.

-My 18th birthday.

-Many drives of Mom and I talking about life.

-First day at ABU (long before it was Crandall)

-Every Christmas banquet.

-Seeing Matt the day that Miguel was born.

-Holding Alexia for the first time.

-The day Aaron got home from Afghanistan.

-The night that Aaron, David, and I stayed up late playing cards and Aaron ate one box of KD under 2 minutes.

-Christmas 2010

-The day that Tiff and I ran around Montague doing errands, and made our first trifle.

-Candace's wedding day. 

-The night before Candace and Andrew's wedding at the cottage with great friends.

-Candace's bachelorette. The whole night :P

-Each long car chat with David.

-The night that Em, Sarah, Matt P, Rynier, and I went to Selkirk after the musical.

-When Matthew came to Highfield with me.

-The time in gr 6 when us girls went swimming at the dam.

-"That day" at the beach after my last exams.

-Tadoussac

-The time Em and I just sat in her car talking. 

-Crandall graduation day.

-Chili supper at Ashworth with friends.

-Canada Day 2011 and the night at Victoria Park when we saw Saturn's rings.

-The drive up to Quebec City with Katie.

-The time that Em came to res for the weekend, just her and me.

-Brunch at Cora's with the girls before leaving for Quebec.

-Mom coming to every showing of Footloose.

-My baptism.

-Dinner/movie night with Dad, Mom, and Boo.

-The night at camp it poured and we did the Big Brother challenge. 

-The night that I sat on the steps at the camp beach with my lovely bedrock girls.

-Girls night at camp when everyone went over the broom.

-Spring Banquet 2011

-Last Christmas Eve day when Mom got Dad his snowmobile.

-Mid-summer visit to Ashworth.

-Our Ashworth Christmas, the Christmas paty, the Will & Kate morning.

-Sitting praying on the staircase late at night with Laura Ells.

-Going to Buctouche with my Highfield youth group.

-Callyn's wedding day.

-the day Callyn and I went for manicures and out for lunch.

-Spontaneous trip to beach in my 3rd year in March.

-The time that Callyn made me breakfast in bed when I visited her in Hali.

-Callyn's wedding reception.

-Every night of worship at camp!!

This list is getting really long and in my Listography book I am constantly adding to it as I remember days of loveliness. I'll add to it on here as well as those days pop into my mind.