Cloudy Sundays

Image courtesy of Bippity Boppity Boo

Here's to manly men,

cloudy Sundays,

working hard and getting sh*t done,

 time spent doing what you really want to do,

 and preparing for Thanksgiving dinner in England.

Bronte Park, Airport Bound

I 
had this great idea that Dad and I, on our way to the airport, should take some time to visit a park before heading into Toronto.  He took me to Bronte Park (is that what this place is called?  I don't think so.  Bronte Marina?  I have no idea: it doesn't really matter) and we enjoyed one last sunset.  It was a really beautiful way to spend my last evening in the most beautiful country in the world...

Summer Family Pics

My Nonna and I went out for the day and I said I'd take her out for lunch at the place of her choice.  She chose Easterbrook's.  Ha-what?  She's so damn adorable: she'd never buy a hot dog for herself (because my grandfather HATES them...talks about it and shudders, in fact), so it was quite the treat for her.  It was sweet sitting in the old booths, Connie Smith and Dan McLean looking down on us lovingly.  I miss her now...

Right next door is the Austrian Club, where my mother's father is painted on the side of the building, depicted as a rugged gent, climbing a mountain of sorts.  It's pretty neat and since Nonna had never seen it, I thought she'd get a kick out of it. 

Twas still watermelon season.  My how I miss Ontario produce :(

...but Nonno was quite upset that this was nearly the last time I'd see them before returning to Jolly Olde.  And now I miss him too...

I reckon this is a horrible picture of me, but we look so happy to be beside each other, I figured I'd leave it in.  I wonder what they're doing now?

Someone Who is Proud of You

Image courtesy of 10 Stigwood (naturally)

Jamie, this one might be for you.   

I'm feeling much better these days than I was this time last week.  We're all back on track at school, into the swing of things, all things are certainly looking up.

Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now (HD)

While in Ireland, Mary taught me a very important lesson: the way we view immediacy in life is directly related to our age.  It's all about proportion.  

When we are very young, a year of our lives (any portion of time longer than about 30 minutes) is a HUGE proportion of our entire life (remember when you used to judge time by episodes of Sesame Street?  My Mom used to do that).  One year to a five-year old is 20% of his life.  That same year to a woman of my age only represents 3.3% of my life thus far.  I'm listening to a playlist that I compiled back in April 2010 (I remember just where I was sitting while listening to it, who I was with, what I was thinking about.  And all this from a gal who usually can't remember anything!).  A year, a few years...it's all a blur of monumental growth disguised as everyday life.

Anyway, I got to thinking (thank you Carrie Bradshaw for that segway) about how quickly time passes "these days".  Before we know it, this year has turned into next, summer has given up her fight to the crispness of autumn.  Next, we're celebrating yet another birthday in yet another place.  Last year I was in Turkey; the year before, in Dartford, serving veggie chili at my house to Dani, Joce, and KB, all who didn't know it was My Special Day.  The year before that was spent with 25 of my closest friends at that awesome Italian restaurant in Beomgye, while the year before that, the girls and I were completely intoxicated in the hot tub in London.  Things change and things stay the same...I'm feeling a bit...something tonight.

And even though I know he's fallen out of favour, I'm totally digging John Mayer right now. 

 

First Day Back

Image courtesy of 10 Stigwood (can you tell I'm loving that blog?)

I have two new classes this year: a delightful group of 11-year-olds and a few new additions to my Year 11 class.  Bring it.  My Year 10 class has been pared down a bit, while my Year 8s are my same Year 7 class from last year.  It's all good, I assure you.

Since I hardly EVER play videos in my classes (even at Christmastime), I thought this was just so ironic.  I mean, I used to enjoy hours of television watching in school from Bill Nye the Science Guy to the most boring series about physics.  I remember once emptying my purse out on my desk.  I was already ostracized due to my incessant talking (poor physics teacher, who will remain nameless), so I sat alone at a lab bench made accessible for students with disabilities.  I had a disability, alright.  Oh, that was terrible.

Anyway, I had this satchel that I carried along with my backpack (because that was necessary?  I probably kept tampons in there and felt sooo adult) and because the video about flippin ticker tape was so incredibly dull, I took the time to do something useful (instead of nap, which was my regular movie M.O.): clean out said satchel.  

Who knew I had so much in there?!  Tylenol, a book, a brush, toothbrush too, I'm sure.  Well, Mr. Name is Protected for His Own Safety (ha!) turned the LIGHTS ON to call me out on it.  All heads turned to me.  

"What are you doing?  Opening up a damn pharmacy?!" 

It was super embarrassing, but it was really quite funny when he said it.  As a matter of fact, I think I found myself laughing at the comment.  I was immediately sent to the vice principal's office (a bit severe, if you ask me) and I was advised that perhaps paying attention to these incredibly informative videos would possibly aide me in future.  

Screw that.  I got 65% in first year Physics.  Video watching and all.

That said, I taught five full lessons today (yup, a five-hour work day.  Get mad, non-teachers) and was at school until 6:30.  Good old 11-hour day...wicked.  I'm off to bed in a jiff.

I hope your first days back were stellar.

Attacks

Image courtesy of Shair Zag via 10 Stigwood

Something about this sounds aggressive and somehow gentle.  I'd like to feel like exploding with dancing, but I just don't.  Last day of inset went relatively well, however, with many people on the right track to starting the year off positively.  Saturday school begins again next weekend, so early mornings will be taken up educating the babies on the off-days.  Sigh.  When they do tremendously well, however, we are all very glad to have helped them along the way.  Listen to me...teach-motional. 

Frank and I went to an impromptu barbecue tonight at a friend's house.  It was delightful to soak up the last of the sunshine as dusk settled over the town.  I'm feeling a bit better today...I guess it just takes time for bad news to settle over us.  Like dusk descending.

 

Years that Answer

Image  courtesy of 10 Stigwood

I read a quote just now that I love love love...

"There are years that ask questions 

and years that answer."

                                 Zora Neale Hurston

I think I am in the answering phase.  After the healing and the happiness, perhaps the answering comes next.  So since I have many a question, it's time to start finding the answers to all of these.  Jump in... 

Mistakes? Not this universe.

Image courtesy of 10 Stigwood

I guess it's true, the same way that some people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there.  I like thinking about the universe as some all-knowing, all-feeling, all-serving place-thing that knows more than me and better than me.  It might be a cop-out, but sometimes it's just easier.  Right now, it's just easier.

We're back to work for one last inset (PA) day before the youngest of our children come to school for the first time.  I'm a bit nervous, as my new role means I'm sort of in charge of their development and year-end results.  I'm sure it will all come together.  Getting started is always a challenge.  For the math team anyway, the time from the start of the year to the start of November is a particularly trying time because the oldest of our students gear up to write what could be their culminating exam.  It means we work our hardest right out of the gate...sprinting from the blocks in a long-distance race.  Not always the easiest thing to get you going after a loooong break.  

I'm not complaining.  The kids are good (now that they know most of us well) and the environment is nurturing.  What more can I ask for?  I hope your weekend is a delight as you gear up for what is always the start of something new.  Oh, September, I do like you.

   

Korean Wrap-Up

Though we were missing Tommy, Chris, and Tim, the reunion of us Anyang-ers was pretty amazing.  I arrived at the Buffalo airport to pick Matt up and proved to myself that perhaps racism comes in forms I didn’t expect.  His plane was delayed and the place was clearing out fast.  There was drama about a woman who was getting married the next day (can you imagine losing your luggage THEN?), there was an abandoned dog (again, imagine the injustice?), but the people at the airport were so darn courteous, it was as if it was the best day ever for them.  After two years with English customer service sucking as much as it does, it was a real pleasure to be around Americans.  Yup, I said it. 

Matty descended down the escalator at about 12:30, looking bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and exactly the same as he did when I last saw him, waving sadly on the sidewalk, as my bus to the airport rolled out of Beomgye.  I was hysterical then and I’m proud to say I was just a BIT overwhelmed this time around.  Matt was VERY special to me (is…oops) while I was in Korea.  He and I shared talks about every single topic, really delved deep into issues I don’t regularly discuss with most people…any people really until I met Kat, Aleisha, and Frank.  Hmmm…

So we drove to Toronto (Jesse and Laura were kind enough to offer their place for the weekend), talking non-stop about all of the things that had happened in the last two years since we’d physically been in the same room.  It was highly entertaining to hear about Korea after I’d left (I thought the whole country just fell apart with my departure.  Turns out, no)…Chris moved into my place, another guy moved in, the school was the same old place…anyway, it sounds waaaay funnier in a Texan accent.  Which, by the way, has grown ever-stronger since he’s moved back last year.  Oddly enough, my Canadian accent has grown stronger as well, despite my living in the UK.  Go figure.  Maybe Matt can’t distinguish between East Coast Canada (which I’m told I sound like I hail from) and Madonna-British (remember when she came back, sort of talking with an accent?  So lame.  Even for her.  And I love). 

We arrived in Toronto, cuddled up in Laura’s bed, and talked into the wee hours of morning.  It was a real delight to finally be reconnected with my dear friend.  I’m getting a bit Matt-motional as I write this.

The next morning, we rose rather late, dressed quickly, and ventured to Cabbagetown to Erin and Jeffrey’s house.  What a great area this is, nestled between the Don Valley Parkway and Regent’s Park.  I know, I know…Regent’s Park is super scary, but gosh, Cabbagetown is wicked!  And to think it was all because the immigrants had vegetables growing in their gardens that it derived its name!  Awesome.

We ate French toast, talked about things, ventured out only to visit the Loblaws at the old Mapleleaf Gardens (awesome…so worth the visit), and came back to eat chicken burgers, drink Caesars, and talk more about stuff.  There are some people (especially after not seeing them for two years) with whom you can just TALK and never get to the boredom phase.  These are these people.  It was valuable, blessed time.  It was time we haven’t enjoyed together in far too long.  A sigh now at the thought that it will be a long while before it happens again. 

Matt and I couldn’t bear the thought of Katie sleeping alone in the guest room (and we were overserved anyway), so the three of us huddled together, warm as it was, and drifted off into la-la land, cuddled and loved.  I told Katie a love story and Matt got elbowed for snoring during it.  Twas a splendid way to spend time.

Sunday was melancholy at best…knowing the trip was over was so entirely sad, it was hard to concentrate on the time we had left.  Again, we ate, talked, drank copious amounts of coffee, and piled into the car to bring the babies back to the airport.  We hardly made it on time, Matt only having about 55 minutes before he was to take off when I dropped him at the airport.  Strong were the promises that we’d do it all again…honest were the convictions that we’d try really hard. 

I cried like a baby on the way home.  In fact, I opted to back track and go back to Laura’s just to collect myself.  It was a very difficult time.  Like I’ve said in previous posts, something is lost and something is gained in living everyday (thank you, Joni Mitchell) and this is a prime example.  These people were my family when I was in Asia, alone and totally out of place.  These people were my friends and my confidantes and my sounding boards.  They were the sanity and the routine and the providers of cheese, wine, and board games.  They were the reason I was giddy rather than miserable when times got really tough in those 365 days.  There is a bond that forms with a fellow traveler; an even stronger bond between fellow expats.  Amazing how the bond still holds us firmly together, isn’t it?

It was a real pleasure to spend that time with you all.  I miss it, as I miss you.  Gosh though, Erin and Jeffry are both going to university, blowing away the competition.  Katie is working in her chosen field as a talented jewelry producer, while Matty is a choir teacher at a prestigious school in Texas.  We can’t do what we do unless we are where we are.  Alas, we are apart.  My conviction remains strong…we shall do it again soon.  Much love xxxx