Something Up With Which I Will Not Put

I spent the better part of today "cleaning" the guest room in preparation for the arrival of my mother-in-law. Those familiar with my house will know that I have a lot of books (understatement of the year nominee), and that many of said books are housed in the guest room.

You see, I have always wanted a Woody Allenesque room in the house, with many, many shelves teeming with many, many books. So one whole wall of the guest room is bookshelves, and there's a medium-sized Ikea bookcase in there as well.

So I decided to rearrange my library...

Since the better part of my reading takes place in bed, I thought it would make sense to shelve all of my unread books in the guest room for easy access. The bottom shelf in unread nonfiction, and the next two shelves are unread fiction. I have a lot of reading to do!

Anyway, right now the room looks slightly messier than before I started cleaning. This is saying a lot, considering that with our recent renovations, the guest room became a temporary storage facility, not only for our odds and ends from other rooms, but also for the thick layer of dust created by the floor guys. On the other hand, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (I can also see the closet, which is perhaps more relevant).

I have scheduled a blog tutorial tomorrow with the incomparable Bill, so I hope to have a comment feature, among many other bells and whistles, very soon. In the meantime, if you have a comment that can't wait, please feel free to send me e-mail.

Sunday, September 29, 2002

One more thing
AND we turned on the furnace. Who ordered this weather? It's those damned ski people, isn't it? Hmph.

Weekend Retrospective
This has been one of those great weekends - the kind in which you accomplish a lot, but still feel like you've had a relaxing couple of days.

On Friday, Jeannine and I spent another hour in the basement, then I rushed off to the Alexis Nihon mall to meet Garran and, more importantly, his Jeep. We loaded up the kids' new train table and brought it home. After we unloaded the table into the basement, Garran went off to more glamorous things, and Andrew came home for lunch. We loaded up the car with about six boxes of dishes culled from the basement clean-up operation, and then Jeannine and I dropped Andrew off at work. We proceeded to Village des Valeurs, dropped off the dishes, and found a great new raincoat (20$) for Jeannine, and yet another leather jacket for me (8$).

Then we took a break at Rockaberry's, where we had fabulous pie and a cup of coffee. We strolled through a bed store looking for bunk bed inspirations, and at some point we picked Andrew up, dropped him off at the car rental lot, and hit the stores once again.

Andrew, by the way, was renting a car to take himself and a few other members of the Montreal Scrabble Club to a tourney in TO. He gets back tonight.

Yesterday, we did some general tidying, and Dina and Steve came by for a visit in the afternoon, with presents for Colin. After supper, Jeannine went into hyper-Grandma mode and looked after bathtime and bedtime while I had grown-up time (kind of) at Terence and Irene's for Geek Night - recommendations include Greg the Bunny and SeaLab 2021.

Today started with Kathryn and Zip coming by with Zip's very manly pick-up to make one trip to the wood dump in NDG, followed by loading the truck with all the wainscotting that used to be in the kitchen, as well as most of the spare shutters and windows that have been languishing in the basement for more than eight years. My imaginative sister plans to make said shutters and windows into her kitchen cabinets. The wainscotting is destined for their bathroom.

Other weekend activities included filling up three garbage bags with clothes for Village des Valeurs, tons of laundry, various cleaning projects, and lots of snuggly coffee-sipping and paper-reading in the comfort of my own bed, sans children, thanks to the World's Best Mother-in-Law.

And yet I still have time to blog it all!

Thursday, September 26, 2002

Construction zone
I'll be playing with the template occasionally - one thing I plan to create is a separate page for the photos, to save time and space on the main page.
Many apologies for any temporary inconveniences during this construction period.

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

Many thanks
Colin thoroughly enjoyed his birthday.

Thanks to all who called and e-mailed, and a special thanks to Grandma, who supplied the cake.

Tuesday, September 24, 2002

And where were you five years ago today?

Today's the big day - Colin is FIVE years old!

Saturday, September 21, 2002

Little Radio Receivers in my Brain
I've had Sinatra's I Get a Kick Out of You going through my head all morning. All things considered, this is not a bad thing. I had a narrow escape the other day, when a certain very tall friend-in-law mentioned She's Havin' My Baby, no doubt the most nefarious song of all time. A former flame and I used to play a dangerous game in which we innocently hummed the tune to a song in an effort to inflict upon the other the torment of hearing an endless loop of something dreadful...

Girls' Night
I got a last-minute invitation to join Dina for a girls' night at Jen's place, with Jen's two sisters and Fanny. The theme: a Pride and Prejudice marathon, in which we watched the entire miniseries. Five hours of Colin Firth scowling and occasionally getting wet. *Sigh*

Many, many thanks to Jen for the hospitality!

Also, many, many apologies to Fanny, since she was right and I was wrong: Mr. Darcy's first name is, indeed, Fitzwilliam.

Friday, September 20, 2002

Comments
As you may have noted, commenting is now an option (thanks to Bill and her astounding brain). So please feel free to let me know what you think. As I said to Mr. Big, just because you're wrong doesn't mean you shouldn't be heard.

Billding my Blog
A gazillion thanks to my mentor, the bountiful Bill, who supplied me not only with invaluable help with blog maintenance, but also vodka. If other instructors did this kind of thing, I would be much more inclined to continue my studies.

Okay, I Lied
I am actually inclined to continue my studies. After much discussion with my better half, the decision has been made - I will pursue my Ph.D (last seen entering a Walmart in Idaho, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. If you have seen my Ph.D. please send any info to the hotline ASAP).

I have emailed the Universite de Montreal to set up a meeting with someone to discuss what I want to do; I've also contacted one of my favourite profs from Concordia, to see if he can give me any direction. I want to focus on 18th and 19th century women authors (i.e., Austen, Eliot, Gaskell, the Brontes, etc.) in a historical context. Beyond that I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing.

Plus ca change...

I've also planted the seed with my Softitler supervisor that I would be interested in negotiating a permanent part-time gig, which would be ideal in conjunction with studying. Something like 25-30 hours a week. Barring that, the freelance deal is pretty sweet, and we can survive on the reduced income for the three or fours years of the degree.

So there!

Tada! Three weeks ago, our basement looked like this:

As some of you know, the basement has been a no-man's-land for over eight years now. When we bought the house, the former owner told us she would clean up the basement prior to leaving, and then neglected to do so. The contents at that time included hundreds of pieces of wood, in various sizes; and the previous owner made it very clear that it was her wood, and she wanted it. After eight years, we figure she's not coming back for it, after all.

Since then, we've been busy renovating upstairs, so we have very much ignored the basement. We were both storing things for other people - I had Alison's old Tandy computer down there, and Andrew had, among other things, his ex-girlfriend's wedding dress :P

Jeannine, the world's greatest mother-in-law, has been visiting since the end of September, and she and I decided to roll up our sleeves and clean up the basement. It took us two and a half weeks, but the results are astonishing:

Now the kids have a designated play area, which means their room is much easier to keep tidy, and my laundry area is roomy and well-organized. The dark, crowded cold-storage room is now a bright clean pantry, and under the layers of solidified coal in the furnace room we discovered a tidy tool room. I love it!

Many, many thanks to Jeannine, without whom this would not have been possible. Also, many thanks to the very understanding sanitation engineers who took away tons (and that's not as figurative as you would like to think) of trash. Finally, thanks also to Zip and Kathryn and Lou and Tilly, who between them got rid of all the wood, as well as the leftover wainscotting from the kitchen and half a dozen old storm doors.

Today was Robert's Christmas party. After the party, I took the kids with me to the mall to do some last-minute shopping. Santa, who had already made an appearance at the school party, was at the mall, too, so we stopped to say hello.

First Robert sat on his knee, then Colin, and then Santa said "Maybe Mummy would like something from Santa too - would Mummy like to sit on my lap?"

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and he's a dirty old man. I said no, thank you. Does this mean I'll be getting coal in my fishnets?

Mine is a long, sad tale...

Shortly before the holidays, I got a call from La Cite College in Ottawa, asking if I was interested in teaching their Business English Cont. Ed. class. I agreed, and shuffled off to Ottawa to meet with the coordinator of the program.

While I was there, she contacted my references. After speaking with my former boss and with the people at Concordia, she said that rather than the Business English class, she wanted to offer me a course called Correspondance Anglaise - because she didn't think I had enough teaching experience to handle the original course. So whatever my references said must have been stellar. Just kidding, really - I know that Andre has a very good opinion of me (God only knows why), and the coordinator told me herself that the Concordia people told her my teaching evaluations are very positive. Essentially, she said that it was the 5 year gap in my experience as a teacher that made her worry.

Anyway, I said I would accept the second course, and left expecting a call regarding the contract and some other details.

On Monday, I called and left a message with her, since no one had called me to sign my contract, and classes start January 13. She finally returned my call Tuesday, only to tell me that due to a lack of registration, they were cancelling the Correspondance Anglaise course. But, she said, they needed a teacher for a conversational English class, if I was interested.

Keeping in mind that the whole point behind taking any position in Ottawa, a two-hour drive away, is to establish some recent college-level experience, in the hopes of landing some teaching positions closer to home, I said yes, I was interested. The first class meets tomorrow, so the plan was I would arrive early, get the course outline, and sign my contract.

Now the problem was that this class meets two nights a week - the first and second ones offered met only once a week. Originally, my plan was to work out some kind of deal with a car rental place, having investigated the bus and train options and deciding that renting a car was comparably priced and way more convenient. But to go to and from Ottawa two times a week, along with driving to and from Boucherville for the substitute teaching gig, I decided that we had to bite the bullet and invest in a second car.

This is the fun part.

I called my dad (as many of you know, an expert of superb qualifications car-wise) for advice. He called his friendly Subaru dealer - so far, my mother, my sister, and my brother currently drive Subarus, and this has been the case for about 17 years. I was the last hold out. Meanwhile, Andrew called the bank to arrange a loan, based on my web surfing, to plonk down about $7000 on a reasonable car from the mid-90s.

Wednesday afternoon, after teaching in Boucherville, I went in to the Subaru dealer and had a chat. He said he might have a lead on a really good deal - a 1990 Subaru with 68,000 km (that's 42,450 miles).

Thursday, I called him again, to see whether or not he had any news. He did - the car was at that very moment being inspected by his team, and I test drove later the same day. It was great! So, Thursday evening, Andrew and I went in to have a number-crunching talk with the dealer, which resulted in a really, really good deal - all told, taxes in, we got the car for under $2500. I picked it up Friday afternoon.

This is the stupid part.

I drive home from the dealer in my new car (yay!), congratulating myself on how quickly and how well this all fell into place. I get home to find a message on my voice mail - any guesses?

The coordinator from Ottawa called while I was handing over a wad of hundred dollar bills to Subaru. Lack of registration - course cancelled.

I'm staying very positive about this, given that I still have a new (old) car that I got for about $5000 less than I had expected. I took it and the kids out to my dad's place yesterday - with a terror of Dad taking one look at the car and saying something like "why'd'ya buy a 13-year-old car, you idiot."

This did not transpire. In fact, Dad took it out for a spin and came back to tell me I made the best deal ever, the car was great, and drove and felt like a new car. His only complaint was that some moron had installed a vent-mounted air freshener, and that I should remove it ASAP. Of course, since I'm the moron who installed it, I have no intention of getting rid of it.

I love my car! It has everything - great sound system, sunroof, cruise (not that I will ever use it), power locks and windows, A-C... and the dealer, to whom I'm thinking of erecting a shrine, included in the price the following: complete tune-up, new discs and pads, new battery, and new snow tires on separate rims. All's well that ends well.

I love my car!

I taught in Boucherville yesterday and today, and I am so indescribably happy to be able to drive there and back! I may even indulge in excessive use of exclamation points! Woohoo!

On my way home today, I stopped at Canadian Tire, bought new Teflon wiper blades and this new Teflon windshield wiper washer fluid. I can not only see better, I can now bake cookies on my windshield.

Oh, and just for fun - try saying "windshield wiper washer fluid" ten times, fast.

From the CNN web site: The space shuttle Columbia, with seven astronauts aboard, broke up as it descended over central Texas today before a planned landing at Kennedy Space Center in Florida. A Bush administration spokesman said the shuttle's altitude -- over 200,000 feet -- made it "highly unlikely" that the shuttle fell victim to a terrorist act.

I find it almost as sad that CNN feels it necessary to address the terrorist connection in the second line of the lead paragraph. I remember the Challenger - in many ways, I feel that the Challenger disaster was a defining moment for my generation - and I don't recall there being much talk of terrorist activities in connection with the disaster. In fact, I recently came across a terrifying essay on how the Challenger disaster was allowed to happen because no one wants to be the bearer of bad news; several levels of authority either hid, ignored, or spun test results that suggested the O-rings were unreliable in certain conditions, namely, the conditions of the Challenger launch.

Watching CNN this morning brought back many emotions from 1986. I guess the difference this time is that we know it can happen; in '86, the shuttle was new and symbolic of technological advance and humanity's progress, at least as seen through the eyes of a 16-year-old. I found it hard to be as affected this morning, especially with the "terrorist act" thing. Okay, I can see why current events would perhaps lead one to speculate, and the presence of Col. Ilan Ramon, the first Israeli astronaut, was cause enough for concern for NASA to provide extra security for the shuttle prior to launch.

Pehaps such speculation and concern is justifiable; but on one level I can't help but feel that just the mention of it in this context is all part of the Wag the Dog scenario Bush et al are inhabiting.

Hubby made a very interesting, poignant point: the Challenger astronauts never had a chance; the Columbia crew got to have 16 days in heaven. Let's hope that's where they have returned, and may their souls forever soar.

Many people have been asking about the relative cost of living in the UK. The best example I can find of how good we have it here in Canada is this:

It costs me about 45$ to fill my tank at a gas station in Montreal.
In the UK, outside London, the same amount of gas would cost me about 103$.

Granted, one's UK salary would be higher - but not proportionally. The daily pay for a school teacher outside London is about 90 pounds, or just over 200$. In the Montreal area, that teacher would make about 120$ a day. So gas is 2.3X more expensive, but the salary is only 1.7X higher.

I hate math.

1. Robert rides Cobweb, a lovely old man who was very patient with our boys.
2. The sheep - it wouldn't be the Cotswolds without them. You'll note that it's lambing time.
3. Colin on Cobweb.
4. Nicole and Adam's herd come galloping in for some hay.
5. Robert looming large in the model village at Bourton-on-the-Water.
6. Colin rides Ben, who is magnificent, despite a rather bad hair cut.
7. Colin rides Adam. Thank goodness he's wearing a helmet.

This fall, I will be teaching two courses at Champlain Lennoxville. Unfortunately, this means spending 13 weeks living away from home - but the good news is I'll be racking up experience at the CEGEP level, and that gets me that much closer to a permanent position closer to home.

The time away won't be so bad, either - my super-fantabulous mum-in-law has offered to come stay with my boys for the duration (she was planning a two-month visit around then, anyway, and this is really just an extension). I'll be home for weekends, and one of the teachers in the department has a room to rent, so I won't be stuck with a year-long lease or paying for weeks that I'm not in residence.

I'll be teaching an intensive Prep. for College English class that incorporates the Intro to Lit course requirements into a "mise-a-niveau" course, aimed at bringing students up to an acceptable level of reading and writing. For many of these students, English is a second (or third) language, so the course will feature lots of grammar (yay...) and writing.

The second course is a basic Intro to Lit course, in which I'll actually be able to teach real literature!!! Muahaha.

All told, I'll be teaching 11 hours a week, which is one hour short of a full load. Happy happy joy joy :)

Dr. T and I attended his high school reunion this weekend. I've been toying with the idea of returning my hair to its natural colour (if we can remember what that is). Dr. T's reaction? 'Please wait until after the reunion. I want a blonde trophy wife.'

The reunion was loads of fun, which is good, since it could have been a total yawnfest for me. As it turns out, he went to school with some very nice people, many of whom are now rather scarily grey and do not look at all like they were ever teenagers. Eavesdropping on the various conversations, however, quickly puts it in perspective. Room full of middle-aged, married, Volvo-driving people, all engaged in variations on the same theme:

Remember when we got completely wasted and trashed your dad's car?
No.*
Man, that was a blast.
*Alternatively, yes.

Scariest part of the event - discovering that Dr. T's contemporary is about to become a grandfather. And that it's mathematically possible. Yoiks.

Thursday, October 30, 2003

Hep, hep, I'm drowning

Anyone want to volunteer to correct 78 essays, 30 grammar tests, 28 paragraphs on theme, and a few random exercises?

Sigh.

My life is a blur of red ink.

Thankfully, I have not encountered Sir Firstival so far. On the other hand, I'm valiantly fighting the dreaded sore throat dragon all by myself. To add to the tension, my Prep Plus students are writing their Prep exam next Friday, and I think I'm more nervous than they are about the results.

Wurstival, Dr. T got home from Malaysia Sunday afternoon, and I left for Lennoxville Sunday evening. So he's finally home, and I'm not. TGTIF.

Thursday, October 23, 2003

Scrabble Update

Well, the results are in: Dr. T is officially the 37th best Scrabble player in the world!!

The first and second place finishers, who will play a best-of-five final tomorrow, are both Thai. The best Canadian was Dave, who placed 16th, followed closely by Joel Wapnick in 17th. Dave and Joel are Montrealers, too - the fourth Montrealer, Emmanuel, finished in 81st place.

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

Scrabble Update

Dr. T has moved up to 26th place after 15 rounds.

The top Canadian at the moment is Dave Boys, in 7th place.

Regular play is scheduled to end with the 24th round tomorrow, but it seems they only played seven games today (in the middle of our night, that is), so I'm not sure what their plan is.

Watch this space!

Tuesday, October 21, 2003

Scrabble Update

After the first day of play, Dr. T is in 30th place (field of 90), having won 5 of his eight games.

The top Canadians are Dave and Joel (both former World Champs, and both members of the Montreal Club, where, it seems, there's something in the water). The fourth Montrealer, Emmanuel, is not doing as well, but there are 16 games to go!

Saturday, October 18, 2003

Sigh

Dr. T is on the other side of the planet. He's playing in the 2003 World Scrabble Championship in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Play begins Tuesday morning (which is Monday evening for us) - updates should be available on the link provided herein above heretofore nonetheless whereat.

This means not only two weekends without my man, but also random fits of jealousy and resentment because he gets to go way far away, and stay in this hotel:

In the words of Bill the Cat, pththththwpth.

Kick ass, and hurry home.

Friday, October 17, 2003

Proof of Purpose

One of my colleagues, who's been teaching for close to twenty years, reported a brand new act of terrorism committed upon the language by a student in a recent essay:

Firstival.

As in "first of all."

I kind of like it - especially as a Round Table name - Sir Firstival.

Ah, there's nothing like a renewed sense of purpose. Some one has to stop these random acts of linguistic violence.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

Not that we're into propaganda or anything...

Soldiers in the 2nd Battalion of the 503rd Airborne Infantry Regiment have been bombarding (no pun intended (oh, who am I kidding)) American newspapers with letters extolling the virtues of working in Iraq.

These letters are filled with positive, upbeat reports of how quickly things are moving ahead. So quickly, it turns out, that the individual soldiers didn't have time to write individual letters. Thankfully, their command staff stepped in, whipped up a form letter, and all the overworked soldiers had to do was sign their names.

Somehow, though, the American newspapers discovered the snow job, and aren't impressed.

Soul Food

Amnesty International (the local branch, I assume) are having a bake sale on campus today. Activism never tasted so good!

In other news

It looks pretty definite that I'll be teaching two courses next semester. One of these will be English for Special Care Counselling - this is the "How to Write a Research Paper" sequel to the "How to Write an Essay" Intro course I'm teaching this semester. But Course #2 is my very own course!

I'll be teaching a second-year course on Montreal authors. My biggest dilemma so far is who to exclude. We are a prolific island. Naturally, I'll do my best to include Bill.

Did I mention that I am the featured New Teacher on the college web site? I hope this doesn't count as my 15 minutes.

And can I just reiterate that I am definitely the least photogenic person on the planet? I should have a certificate or something.

Friday, October 10, 2003

Haiku-ku-ka-ju

See Hiroshima leaves on the road bed
Winter is a-comin' in.

Wednesday, October 08, 2003

An interesting British study...

A recent scientific study found that the kind of male face a woman finds attractive can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. For instance, if she is ovulating she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features. And if she is menstruating, she is likely to prefer a man doused in petrol and set on fire, with scissors shoved deep into his temple and a cricket stump jammed up his arse.

Thanks very much to my friend Mark.

Monday, October 06, 2003

Does Linus own a tux?

It's the Great Pumpkin Ball!

(My alternative approach was to make a joke involving Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater and foreplay.)

Wednesday, November 26, 2003

The end of the semester cannot come too soon

Last night I dreamt about essays.

You know those dreams, as a student, in which you arrive in class to discover there's a huge test on something you're completely unfamiliar with? Well, teachers get 'em too.

I told one of my colleagues about the essay dream. Her recurring nightmare - she's in a classroom, and the students are talking, throwing things, and generally being rowdy. At the top her lungs, she's shouting for order; but her voice comes out in a tiny, inaudible whisper.

Shudder.

Monday, November 24, 2003

Better blogged than never

You know it's a real phenomenon when it gets spoofed in The Onion.

Having said that, I was about to apologize for the recent inactivity when I realized that I'm not alone. Many of my fellow bloggers are behind the times, and mine is not the most out of date. So pppthtth.

My excuse is the same old tired one about being up to my eyeballs in correcting and planning. There are exactly 12 school days left before the end of the semester - and for my 101 class, that means only 5 classes. There is no way I'll have time to teach them everything they need to know! In retrospect, I guess I should have started discussing poetry earlier in the semester, but in my defense, it sucks. Ah well, live and learn (or not, in the case of my students).

Not all poetry sucks, of course. I do like limericks. And the best part of being the teacher is I get to choose what we're reading, so I can skip the namby-pamby Wordsworthian fluff and get right into the meatier Blake and Auden.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Saturday, November 15, 2003

What government funded research is doing these days:

Proving that Kansas is flatter than a pancake.

The philosophical implications alone are staggering.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

There's something in the hair

First I was a brunette. Then a blonde. Then a brunette again.

And now for something completely different:

Monday, November 10, 2003

Still learning something new everyday

I'm once again up to my eyeballs in corrections. This week, it's the final exam for my Prep students, including essays, and another essay for my 101 students.

Part of the final exam is reading comprehension, based on a short text by Timothy Findley in which a father commits suicide by jumping off a bridge while his son looks on. One of the exam questions is, essentially, why. One student wrote that the "father had good reasons and he wanted to commit suicide. It was not a one day pansy."

I am assuming the student meant 'a passing fancy.' Nonetheless, I love it. I vote we adopt it into the language immediately.

Another dream that will never come true...

The Concorde's last flight has come and gone. My dad forwarded some pix from the final flight.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

First the bad news:

It's friggin snowing.

The good news: I have managed to get through all my corrections.

The bad news: Another in-class essay to correct today, for tomorrow. And another one will be written in-class on Thursday. And an exam, including an essay, will be written Friday.

The good news: It's official - I will be teaching two courses next semester, both on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I will be able to leave home Tuesday morning, and go home Thursday afternoon. So, good to be working, and good to be home more often.

My career is careering.

Originally, I was offered two courses for next semester. Registration, which is still underway, has thankfully filled both courses, and they will both go ahead. However, one of my colleagues, who has permanence, has lost a course due to poor enrolment. As a result, she gets one of my courses, since I'm at the bottom of the seniority/priority list. However, this same colleague is being wooed by an international aid organization for a position in Belgrade. She believes she'll find out by the end of this week if the organization is willing to meet her salary demand. If so, then not only would I keep both my courses, but I would also get one of hers.

The other scenario is that registration will prove that another section of English for the Social Sciences is required. That extra section would go to said colleague, leaving me with the original two courses.

In the meantime, AUGHGHGHGH, as Lucy would say.

For the record, I spent half an hour searching for a rhyme for neiges that would appropriately convey just how friggin cold it is. Minus 21 C with the windchill, which is -6 F for the Yanks.

Ah yes, the windchill. There are no words strong enough to express just how much I hate windchill. Every year I waste several valuable minutes wondering just why, out of all the Commonwealth destinations my parental units might have chosen, we ended up here. Why did the French settlers stay, those many years ago? Historical text after text tells us that the settlers' numbers were drastically reduced every winter, because of extreme temperatures, no food, impassable routes, and so on. So why do we stay? What are we trying to prove?

And yet, here I remain... Despite the obvious ridiculousness of our winter weather, I love this place. Sigh

The semester ended almost two weeks ago, my marks have been submitted, my shopping is done, and life is good. I’ve gone a little Martha for the holidays – the other day I painted the bathtub, baked gingerbread, made cranberry gravy, and to complete the package, did a little insider trading. It’s a good thing.

The world’s greatest mother-in-law has gone home, Colin has been to his first concert (David Bowie, who was great, and flu-free), and so far the cat has not destroyed the tree. More good things.

The season also means catching up with old friends. Yesterday was a banner day for such contacts – in the morning, while I made cranberry jelly (which (a) is not the same as the cranberry gravy and (b) turned out perfectly, thank you very much), I had a nice chat with my New Jersey connection. Later, my Haligonian buddy called to say hi and officially announce her engagement (once her divorce is final, of course). We ended the day with a very cozy evening of port and spinach dip with my former boss/current good friend. The good things continue to pile up.

We’re looking forward to a nice family Christmas chez the ‘rents, with my brother and sister and various add-ons, as well as a few more visits with the long-lost. And just to ice the cake, I don’t go back to the classroom ‘til January 12th – when I’ll be teaching a full load! My colleague has received her itinerary for her trip to Belgrade, so it looks pretty official at this point. I sincerely hope that all of you have as much to celebrate this season.

Happy Christmas, kick ass in 2004, … and… to all a good night.

Well, the hollerdays, as Colin calls them, are over, and a new year just begun. We had a wonderful family-oriented Christmas, with lots of visiting and prezzies and snow(!). Now, Dr. T and the kids are back to the usual grind, and I’m enjoying one more week at home before reprising my Lennoxville routine...

It's brass-monkey freezing cold outside. I have no reason to go outside. No places to be, no people to see. So why, you ask (or you would if you had read the script beforehand), am I so desperate to get out of the house?

I'm waiting for the Maytag Man, that's why...

Well, after months of saying "y'know, we should really do this," we've finally done it. Thanks to Moveable Type, Andrew, and Steve, my blog has a new home.

This is a week filled with movement - not only has my blog been relocated, but I am writing this very entry in my cozy new office! I've moved upstairs, so I'm now with the rest of the English department, and I have the office to myself.

My first day of teaching is tomorrow. In the meantime, I've been hauling books upstairs, washing desks and shelves, dismantling ancient PCs to make room for my laptop, and, when I have a minute or two, planning my courses.

More later!!

It's -40.

Not including the wind chill.

That's -40.

Regardless of scale.

I hear it's only -29 C in Montreal...

Regular readers, if there are any, will note that I'm back after a day or two of hiatus. This was not deliberate - we think the cat, or possibly the kids, severed our connection. As a result, our IP was changed, and it took a while to get everything back on-line.

And, after all that, this is the only new post. Was it worth the wait?

via SheilaRene

As you can see from the column to your left (that's <---), I have been a very good girl. No smoking for 5 whole days!

I'm going nuts*.

In an effort to convince myself that quitting is the best thing I've ever done, I have calculated my savings and I have pretty much decided that mama's gonna get a brand new laptop.

There are a couple of wide-screen babies out there that I am drooling over...

I am now trying to figure out several things - do I buy on-line or in person? do I need Office Pro, or is the basic version good 'nuff? what are the pros and cons of monthly installment plans? if I go with Dell, should I pay an extra $1/month for the Burlwood snap-on cover? You know, important considerations such as these.

Any advice, recommendations, reviews (pro AND con), etc., are welcome, invited and eagerly anticipated.

* Freudians will get a kick out the fact that I initially typed "I'm going buts."

Hummus with 7 peppers rocks.

I cannot, at the moment, feel my tongue.

Two days til Spring Break!!

This morning I feel like I really, really need a week off, believe me. I'm heading home after my afternoon class tomorrow - a class which I suspect will be curiously shorter than usual. Then I'm home for ten and a half days!!

I'm doing my best to wrap things up here, to minimize the homework. I have mid-term papers from all three classes, so there's a lot of correcting to get through; for two of the classes, part of what I'm correcting is the students' ability to use APA documentation, which is not particularly exciting, to say the least. Needless to say, I'm engaging in a lot of internal pep talks:

"You can do it, Maggie!"
"Yes, but I don't want to."

Thankfully the weather is encouraging - this morning, though still stupidly cold, is bright and sunny, and the forecast looks warmer.

And let's face it - the world just looks better in widescreen. My new machine is wonderful - I'm impressed, Dr. T (who is, after all, a computer guy) is impressed, and the techie people at school, who took care of my new baby for a couple of hours yesterday, installing network thingies, are impressed.

Suffice it to say that I'm happy - if not for this perpetually growing stack of corrections. Grr.

You're the United Kingdom!
You're a much weaker person than you used to be, but you still act like you did when everyone looked up to you.  Despite this, you're probably a better person than you were when you had so much power over those around you.  Though you do have a strange fascination with jewels and monarchs, which lets you play in castles, but also end up leading a sort of tabloid lifestyle.  You really like the Beatles, even more than you like Oasis.

Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Via Shatnerian

You're Prufrock and Other Observations!
by T.S. Eliot
Though you are very short* and often overshadowed, your voice is poetic and lyrical. Dark and brooding, you see the world as a hopeless effort of people trying to impress other people. Though you make reference to almost everything, you've really heard enough about Michelangelo. You measure out your life with coffee spoons.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

*Though not as short as Bill, who is my inspiration (at least for this post).

They're serving free Irish coffee in the staff lounge.

I went in to fill my kettle to make an innocent cup of tea. Vanilla Earl Grey, even.

Two cups later...

Teehee. Man, am I glad I don't have to teach today.

I love my job!

1. You're invited to a friend's birthday dinner and it begins at 6 p.m.

2. It ends at 9:30.

3. The highlight of the evening is when one of the party calls home to find out who is the new leader of the Conservative Party*.

4. A lively discussion ensues.

5. Later, while watching SNL (and not, I might add, 'til the end), the only thing you can think about the rappers clutching their crotches is "do they have to pee, or are they just trying to hold up their ridiculously baggy pants?"

Sigh.

*Stephen Harper.

Turns out Elvis is Scottish.

"Paul Downie, spokesman for Scotland's Elvis Touch Fan Club, said fans have suspected for years that their idol was connected to Scotland."

I don't think I have an single full-course post in me at the moment, but there are few tidbits I'm willing to share...

1. Further evidence of the suckage of Dell
Following my traumatic relationship with the sexy Dell laptop (I fell for its looks, but like most gorgeous creatures, it was fickle, unreliable, and ultimately a failure in the hard-drive area), I naturally 'unsubscribed' from the usual barrage of software update notifications, promotions, reminders, etc., etc.

I have now unsubscribed three times.

Unsuccessfully.

So on a weekly basis, at least, I get happy fuzzy e-mails from Dell.

Ok, I know that e-mail is relatively innocuous, but my Dell experience was bad (for "bad" read "unf&^%kingbelievably frustrating and stressful). I don't want to hear from Dell. Stop calling me, dude. It's over.

2. I can still see clearly now, although some details are apparently fuzzy
Four months, exactly, after my laser eye correction and I am still reveling in being able to see without glasses or contacts.

I was so pleased with my experience that I wrote the clinic and gushed a little. As a reward, they made me a patient mentor (as in a mentor to patients, not a mentor with patience). Ok, I'm fine with this idea, happy to talk to pre-surgery candidates about my experience, yada yada yada. Except they keep referring patients to me whose prescription and other details the clinic claims are like mine - and so far they are over 50 and wear bifocals.

3. I caved
I made the mistake of going to the welcome back to school corn roast and annual general meeting at (what is now only) Robert's school - the school where I have been chairperson of the Governing Board for the past year, a position I was determined to give up.

Well, the real mistake was going to the meeting alone, without backup. Naturally, the principal cornered me, sweet-talked me, fed me roasted corn... I was helpless. So I'm back for another two years, albeit with promises to accommodate my schedule and stress levels. We'll see. Stupid corn.

*the zombie snack of choice