The Canadian goes Canoeing

Have these old Birks had it, or what?!

I went canoeing with a Duke of Edinburgh group of 14-year olds.  All preparation was going well until I threw my shoulder out doing, I think, renegade rows.  SO sore...numb arm, still can't sleep on my right side.  Oh dear.  How ever was I going to do it?  

I visited this magician (known professionally as an osteopath) and he fixed me RIGHT up.  In fact, it was this blog that helped me.  Recall how I slipped a disc in old Korea?  The osteopath asked about where the disc was located and I couldn't remember, but guess what?  I'd blogged exactly what had happened.  Self preservation at its best!

Against better judgement, I went on the trip.  I rowed/oared/canoed.  It hurt.  I survived.

We traveled from Guildford along the Wey River to the Thames, and docked over night, where we all slept in our own little tents!  Nuts.  We did the same thing the next day, but docked by the minibus and drove back to school (our school has canoes!  So exclusive).    

You'll see the portaging apparatus: yes, there was portaging. 

Bees feasting on summer lavender.  Love.

Swans in the lock (when we weren't portaging).

Little Trip to the Cotswolds

(This was after a long run [for me; for Steven it was a breeze...argh]).  And how my fella likes to relax on a warm night [the smoke is from the chiminea]):

Right, so we headed north for a few days...not much to report here, but here are some pictures.  It was HOT when we left and by the time we got up there, it was FREEZING.  Naturally we packed completely irresponsibly, thinking summer was here (in the spring).  Never again.

This is "the Canadian pose".  Apparently every time a camera comes out, this is what we do.  :(

That time my father visited

I honestly never thought the day would come.  My DAD visited from Canada.  Sure, he always talked about it, but there was never even the slightest inclination from him that he'd actually COME.  Sure enough, he did.  It was a warm April this year, thankfully, and it was perfect weather for him most of the time.  He stayed for a few weeks, with a trip to Spain sandwiched in between to round out what would have been the end of his 1975 tour of Europe with Alex, had they not ran out of money (is that why they never got to Spain?  Or did they just not get to Torremolinos?  I can't remember...there were QUITE a few Europe stories in those two weeks!).

Anyway, it was a pleasure to have him and now that he's spent more time with Dad, Steven is now acutely aware of where I get nearly every single one of my...eccentricities?  Something like that.  Here we are touring Anne Boleyn's house, a natural first pitstop (he had just gotten off the plane at this point...trooper).

Twins...

On what was supposed to be a sunny day, we ventured out to Brighton.  These are the best sea shots we managed...

And on our most adventurous day, the one where Steven drove us into town and we left my house keys on the seat of his car, rendering us completely helpless and pub-dependent until Steven got home  came home early to rescue us, we headed through ALL of London: St Pauls, SoHo, Buckingham Palace, the whole gamut.  And of course my Father was the first person I'd ever known to eat those hot nuts sold on and around the bridges.  And of course they were the best things I've ever had in my life.  Father knows best.

Thank you for finally venturing across the pond.

Last Seafront Days

Steven's birthday is in January.  I threw another surprise party for him after dinner out.  It was an all around good time.  

I had asked the Brighton school to please, please, please let me go at Christmas time (I couldn't do any more), but they couldn't get a replacement for me quite that promptly.  Plus, I agreed it wasn't what was best for the kiddies.  FINALLY February rolled around and after a long night out at two bars... 

...it was time to bid the seafront adieu.  That's me on the left...I seriously don't recognise myself anymore.  I've never been so happy to see the end of an era.  The good news is that I made some good friends there and though it's a chore to see them, when I do, it's wonderful.

Speaking of which, Kathleen came to stay.  I took her to the Old Man Pub in the dead of winter.  

Christmas in England

I have never spent a Christmas in England and after last year's visa debacle, I wasn't going anywhere this year.  My Mom came back for a visit and the plan was to stay in our pajamas, bake an obscene amount of Christmas goodies, and relax.  Mission accomplished.

Above, I cut some branches from the neighbourhood bushes and plopped them into a vase: Christmas decor complete!  These two little elves helped (okay, they stood guard while I hacked away at the branches!): 

I can't remember when we made these profiteroles, but I do recall the batter being difficult.  Leave it to my Mother, the woman with endless patience for baking (of all things!  I seem to recall a not-so-affiinity for baking while I was growing up) to ensure that the sticky batter came together and that we plunked these beauties on trays to bake.  I'm not a huge fan, but they were a HUGE HIT and they looked gorgeous (sorry, no end picture).  This may have been the recipe I used.

We also stayed true to Mom's Austrian heritage and made vanillekipferl (sugar cookies with almond, doused in icing sugar).  They were wicked good.

Christmas Day was pretty lovely at our house (with our REAL TREE!).  Dad sent some gifts with Mom, which was a treat, and we all tore open pressies first thing Christmas morning.

This Christmas tree (which cost about ten thousand dollars at the garden centre) lasted close to a MONTH.  Yes it's true that I am still fishing needles out from under floor boards and at the seam of every single door in the house, but it was well worth it.  Roll on December!

And now for the obligatory around-the-table-at-dinner shots ;)

I don't think I was the only one happy to have me England-side when Santa rolled into town.

On Boxing Day, we had Steven's clan around for a big dinner.  How many men does it take to unfold the leaf from the bottom of the table (LOVE this table...best purchase yet!)?  

...while the slightly annoyed women watch on:

And for some, back to work came sooner than we'd liked...

...but soon enough, it was New Years Eve.  Ha!  We went to the local Thai restaurant at about 8 and headed to our favourite Old Man Pub.  Unfortunately, you had to have bought tickets in advance, so we were screwed.  We popped into this pub instead (that I swear served butter sandwiches after midnight) and found our own fun.  Love this man...no matter how crappy the local pub!

Happy Holidays!

Life Changing Moments

I forgot to mention that on the first day of October half term, I had a stark realisation.  I had lived in my house for about two weeks and had spent so little time in it that I'd never seen it in daylight, save on the weekends.  I decided I couldn't live this way.  I was commuting to a school near Brighton, waking at 5 every morning (which is fine, really), getting to the train station by 5:30, and just barely making it in before 8:30 (school started at 8:45).  I was exhausted, my complexion was sallow, and there was no incentive for me anymore.  My job (Head of the Maths Department) is in demand and I was working with kids who made me cry most days (could this have been the lack of a life added to the commute?  Or was it just the children?  Who knew.  What I did know was that I could not change the world at this school and did not have the energy to keep trying).  I wrote this on that day and dared not mention it was my JOB (I can say it now) that was killing me...

I'm watching Oprah on MasterClass right now and I'm struck with a profound realisation: I need to do something that helps me feel THIS positive all the time.  I fear that there is an aspect of my life (I daren't say what it is, for fear that it will be taken out of context and I'll be in trouble, sigh) that makes me so entirely negative that I forget how I feel RIGHT NOW.   

I got up today at a reasonable hour (not 5 am).  I've had some coffee and watched the sun come up between two buildings.  I feel relaxed, like someone who has been on vacation for the last four and a half weeks.  The difficulty came when I started to think about how positive I have been feeling lately: I am seeing the sunny side of life; I'm not surrounded by negative people and surroundings; I had a sunny beachy holiday and that has restored my mental state.    

God, I needed a permanent positive mental state.

I searched online for a new job and the only head of maths job in the country was three miles from my house.  I'd be crazy not to apply.  So I did.  And though the deadline had passed, somehow my application was accepted and I was interviewed.  I had to teach a class and have a gruelling interview, but it was so much more civilised than other whole-day-job-interviews in the past (my worst one was 8 hours long, culminating in a one-hour intensive interview.  No one should have to endure that).  The whole place was civilised.  In fact, when I was leaving and walking to the train station, a boy "dropped" a plastic bottle on the ground.  I said, "You best be picking that up", to which he bashfully replied, "Yes, Miss" and did just that.  I'd landed in Eden.  I am never leaving.

School is two train stops from my house (at a third of the cost of my last monthly train pass): I walk ten minutes to our train station; commute 10 minutes on the train; then walk five minutes to school.  It's amazing.  

Now after great results this year and hopes for the kids I was hired to boost up, I'm ready to go back after a long, restful summer.  I feel so, so lucky.  I feel so, so happy.

Who knew work could be so rewarding?