That's So Old School

Lately I've been rereading the letters and cards I've saved from my Nan over the years. Up until her ninetieth year I'd still get a Christmas Card from her, and I'd know without even looking at the return address on the envelope that it was from  her.  Her distinctive handwriting is as unique as her soulful smile, and it amazes me how much you can tell about someone by how they loop their letters together.  It's an art form from the beginning of time.  An old school skill that is almost extinct.

In an era where students spend their days blogging on iPads and reading e-books there are basic skills that have been pushed to the wayside because in today's modern society they are deemed archaic. Handwriting or cursive writing is not valued as an essential skill to teach so it has been cut from the BC curriculum, to make room for designing wikis and other "technology" IEP's.  In the past ten years I've noticed a significant decline in the neatness of printing, to the point where I've asked students decipher their own work for me.  As a person who values the weight of a pen; the crispness of blank paper; and the scent of dusty books, this has been a difficult pill to swallow.  The gravity of the situation didn't hit home until my niece (aged 8) innocently informed me she will never be able to read Nan's letters and cards because she can't read cursive.  Her comment alone makes me wonder if we educators have thrown the baby out with the bath water, so to speak, when we decided to focus on technology instead of fundamental skills.  Now don't get me wrong, I see the purpose of technology in the classroom and in my daily life; I love my iPad and laptop.  But give me a blank journal and a new pen and I get giddy.  There is something that transforms inside me when I put a pen to paper- my ideas flow.  This hardly ever happens when I type on the key board.  All of my blog posts and creative endeavors start with the old school tools.

Penmanship is not the only skill lost in our high- tech society; being able to read an analogue clock, and how to use a dictionary are among other basic skills not taught.  Of course you don't need these skills to survive the modern world, but what we have lost with these things is how to be patient, and the satisfaction of discovery.  Most kids are used to getting information literally at their finger tips; they don't have to to think about an answer; they just Google it.  They are not taught how to wait or persevere when things get tough. Qualities like being introspective, patient and having good manners are being weeded out in this high paced society.

Maybe I should have been a teacher from the olden days so I could instill the value of penmanship, good manners, accountability, and how to make a friend.  Yes, I said how to make a friend.  This year alone I have had handful of students express their desire to make friends but they don't know how.  It's a skill that didn't need to be taught until this generation.  We have enabled these kids with social media, video games and technology but they don't know how to socialize face to face.  They need to master some basic social skills, like making small talk, before we let them text away.

I'm not saying we have to stop progression, but I think we need to place some value on the old letters our grandmothers wrote to us that sit in the bottom of a drawer.

Another Step On My Writing Journey

Last Friday I was surrounded by a community of writers at the Surrey International Writers' Conference held at the Guildford Sheraton.  Never in my life have I felt like I truly belonged in a large crowd until now.  When I've attended conferences in the past I'd always felt uneasy, awkward and out of place.  This time, with the exception of one volunteer, I didn't know a soul, and yet I felt a part of this amazing tapestry of writers.

For a writer this is an odd feeling as so much of what we do is in isolation.  Most writers are private about their writing until they think they have something worth sharing, and as a result they write alone with no connection to others.  I'm no exception.  Besides my blog I keep my writing close to my heart, only allowing a select few in to read.  I've been working on my novel since the summer of 08, but no one really knew about it until 2010.  I think the secrecy behind my novel has more to do with me.  Up until last week I'd always felt strange explaining what the novel was about to people I know.  I'm not sure why.  It might be the fact I'm my own worst critic and think the content isn't engaging enough. Now after two pitches and countless conversations with other writers about my project I feel a bit more confident about it.  I'm guessing if an editor wants to see my first three chapters when the whole manuscript is ready then I have something worthy to share.

Yes that's right, an editor wants to see my writing!  It is still shocking and I don't want to get too excited about it; this is only the first step to getting published.  Just because they want to see something doesn't mean they'll like it.  I feel honoured just being asked as it has been a long and strange journey with my novel thus far.

When I started writing this 200 page manuscript one summer night in Shuswap my intention was just to write a short story.  This 5 page story inspired the novel.  From there I wrote my first draft, which has been transformed many times over.  Each new version surpassing the former in skill and technique.  Just when I think I've mastered it my dear editor Alyssa always comes back pushing my limits again toward achieving success.  Alyssa is not an editor by trade; she is a friend from work who has graciously been reading my novel for the past few years.  We get together from time to time to discuss my characters and plot, brain storming ideas on how to make it better.  What I love about Alyssa is that she tells it to me straight; I appreciate that as I'm sure any publisher, agent, or editor who reads my work will be just as tough, if not tougher.

So right before the summer I actually read my novel from the beginning to the end in one shot.  Up until then I had only read it in chunks and just "fixed" them.  Well my immediate reaction was to delete the 101,247 word document as I hated it.  In my eyes there were so many holes in the story- the protagonist seemed flat and I finally understood what Alyssa meant when she said that she didn't understand why the protagonist loved who she does.   I felt defeated; almost five years of hard work and nothing to really show for it.  Luckily I got advice from a fellow writer who told me to take a break and come back to it later.  I did just that.  I took three weeks off and then up at Shuswap I found my muse again.  Then I spent the rest of my summer revamping and reorganizing my novel.  I even changed my title; Marbles and Wine rolls off the tongue better than Its Like Holding A Marble In My Mouth. What a mouthful, ha ha. Pun intended.

I know I still have more revising to do, but after listening to accomplished authors last week about their first novels I realize that it takes time and not to worry.  Writing is a process and it takes time to prefect it.

Thankful for Little Cereals

Thinking back to camping on the Thanksgiving weekend I realize that one of the best moments was when I was eating my tiny box of Frosted Flakes cereal, and marvelling over the way the morning sun dappled through the cedar trees casting luminous light over the mossy ground.  It was in this moment that I could really relax and not stress over the hectic daily grind that I'm used to.

It seems to me that life in the McGeachie/Freeman household has become more like walking a tightrope, while juggling bowling pins and reciting a Shakespearean soliloquy.  Since September the pace around here has more than doubled.  Scott has been busy making his business, SMT Cabinets successful, which means I've been picking up the slack at the home front.  This was fine in the summer when I as off work, but now that I'm back teaching full time, I feel like I wake up every day running before my feet hit the ground.  Work has not exactly been what I expected when I took on a new course.  It takes most of my attention and energy throughout the work day.  Once home I'm a full time housewife, who is trying to find the energy to complete my novel.

So to get away from everything, Scott and I joined our friends at Alice Lake for some camping and to celebrate Thanksgiving.  It has been about a ten year hiatus for me when it comes to sleeping under the stars.  I've had my fill of tent camping and rolled up my sleeping bag in my mid twenties, so I was a little reluctant to going of this trip.  Knowing my hesitancy my husband ensured I'd be comfortable by borrowing a friend's traitor for us to sleep and cook in.  He cooked majority of the meals and kept my wine glass full most of the time. I lent a hand with washing dishes and kept our cosy trailer somewhat in order.   I was also in charge of the pre-camping chores like buying groceries, and packing what I thought we'd need- (p.s. you can never have enough plastic bags on hand or dish towels, two things we lacked.)  One thing I knew I'd bring were those little boxes of cereals.  Since I'm in my 30's I thought it best to buy the "adult variety" pack.  The down fall being, there are only two sugary cereals: two boxes of Frosted Flakes.  Good thing those are my favourite.

There is something strangely exciting about having these little boxes of cereal.  I can't explain it, but for me they hold a bit a nostalgic magic- conjuring memories of my childhood, when we'd go camping as a family.  The one thing that really made the trip for me were the  Kellogg's mini boxes of cereals. I just loved having so many choices.  Normally in our household a sugary cereal was a real treat, so when we went camping and my mom purchased the sugary variety pack, I couldn't wait to dive in.  The days leading up to the first morning when I could finally choose my cereal was filled with such anticipation. My sister and I would haggle over who would get which ones.  Through a little crafty negation and some "mom mediation" I'd usually get the first pick.

Now I was never the type of person to enjoy milk- laden cereal, so on the first morning, I'd just open the box from the top and jam my spoon inside scooping out little crunchy morsels.  I'd savour each spoon full of sugary goodness, while sitting by the fire or at the breakfast table in the trailer. Those were the simple days- when being a kid meant the biggest issue camping would be fighting over who would get the Frosted Flakes.

Fast forward to the present day and I'm still just as excited to crack open a tiny box of cereal.  For me, camping this past weekend was great.  Lots of memorable moments, but what made the trip perfect was the fact that the biggest decision I had to make was which cereal was I going to eat, and for a brief moment in time I could be a kid again and not worry about balancing on the tightrope.

What is the one childhood food you still eat today that brings you back to your hay days of just worrying about kid stuff?

Can Mothers of Young Children Be Close Friends with Childfree Women?

I want to start off by saying this post is not intended to blame or offend anyone; its just a topic that is dear to my heart and something I feel that needs to be shared.

For over a year now I've wanted to write a piece about being childfree and how it has effected my friendships, especially with the women in my life who've chosen motherhood as a vocation.  My hesitation to blog about it and make my experience public lends to the fact that it emotional for me.  However after mulling it over and finally talking about it with both moms and non -moms alike, it is apparent that the question "can moms of young children be close friends with childfree women?" needs to be asked.

To simply answer the question, the immediate response would be 'no'.  Of course there are exceptions to every rule and not every one experiences are the same.  I, like other childfree women in their mid 30's to early 40's, find it hard to maintain a close, meaningful friendship with women who are mothers to young children. And from what I've been told about mothers who are are going through their first few years of parenthood is that "they are so wrapped up in being a good mom, just surviving it all that they tend to spend their time with other moms.  Not that they don't want to be friends with childfree women; it's just hard to find the time to maintain a close relationship with them."  This was explained to me by a few mothers who have experienced it all.  

I have friends of all sorts and I'd have to say the ones I'm closest to right now are parents of teens and the pre-moms.  These are women who don't have children yet but want them someday soon. Right now it is easy to maintain a friendship with them even with our busy lives.  Be that as it may, I know what will probably happen to our friendships after they become mothers. We can pretend it won't happen and try our best to be close, but the truth of the matter is our close bond will weaken.  How do I know this? Well it has happened to me more often than I'd like to think about.  I used to be a part of a fabulous group of  five women, and we were all very close friends.  One of them was my best friend.  We all hung out all the time enjoying girls' nights, movie dates, and just plain gabbing over the phone.  I knew them inside and out, and them me.  I always thought we'd be close friends.  Then one by one they decided to become mothers, except for me.  Even though we tried to remain close my bonds with them have gone to the wayside.

I still think of them as friends but our closeness is not there.  They have grown together as mothers and have bonded over labour stories and child rearing; things that I can't share.  And when we get together as a group I feel like I'm a stranger with them. Besides our same profession we don't have much in common any more.  The topics we used to discuss, like our significant others, books, hobbies, travel, seem to have taken a back seat to daycare worries and bedtime routines.  Now they have become more like colleagues rather than close friends, which isn't a bad thing. And I don't blame them as they are only doing what is natural to them right now. They need to bond with other mothers.  They also may not realize it has happened.  I take part of the blame as I tend to make plans that aren't child-friendly, so I'm sure its hard for them to participate.  It's just a tough pill for me to swallow.

To me it's like a break up.  I've lost relationships, and no matter what they can never be the same again. Even when their kids grow up we won't have the same dynamic.  Most people advise me by saying to wait a few years when the kids get older you will get your friends back. Like we are in a pseudo long- distance relationship. And we all know how those turn out.... I've only had one friend come back from the trenches of motherhood and we are still rebuilding.

So here is what I've learned from all of this:  I couldn't grow with my group of five and that was my choice. And as much as I understand they are busy right now, it still doesn't make it easier because I miss them.  I miss who they used to be when they too were childfree.

I've also realized that I need to make some childfree friends to help keep balance in my life.  I love the friends I have; it just would be nice to have a childfree Allie or two.

And the last thing I've learned is if both mothers and non-mothers want to keep their friendship going it takes work on both sides.  It can't ever be one sided; just like a marriage there has to be compromise.

Though this has been a tough epiphany to realize, I would never change my mind about not being a mother.  I know when I hit my 40's things will get easier.  I guess being childfree does have some draw backs, it's not all roses and wine on this side of the divide.

When Was the Last Time You Spent Time Alone?

As a few of my friends have been travelling to far off destinations where passports and jet lag are certainties; words are lost in translation; and epic photographs are being taken of landscapes that can only be described as pastoral paintings brought to the digital age, I am staying within the confines of my beautiful province.
Now I have to admit I wore a shade of green when they told me about their travel plans to Europe- I've always wanted to go. However after four glorious, sun filled days here in Shuswap, my shade of green has dissipated for now. For right now I do believe this will be my second summer highlight (first was our anniversary celebrations)

During these four days I spent time in perfect solitude- me, myself and Triggs. Besides a few play sessions and feeding the dog you would never know I had one, as he slept most of the time (granted with a fur coat and the average temp of 32 degrees, I think I'd sleep too).

When Scott suggested I stay at the cabin after our "anniversarymoon" by myself to really enjoy a whole week at the cabin I immediately said "yes".  The next day as I watched his truck drive away I had a slight twinge of regret. What was I thinking? Stay at the cabin all by myself with no one in sight? With no vehicle or real access to emergancy services I had to admit I became a little shaken. What if an animal attacked me or Triggs? What if I ran out of supplies or heaven forbid WINE? What if I got bored or lonely? Then I looked out at the gorgeous view of lake and took a deep breath; I'd be fine.

At first I was also unsure how I'd handle this much time alone without another person to talk to.  I haven't had this much time to myself since my single summer days back in 2008, and even then I had close friends to chat with on the phone for hours. Up at the cabin cell service can be tricky and also expensive. We also don't have WiFi or a TV, so entertainment was limited to reading, listening to the radio, or just relaxing.  Now I will admit I could hook up to 3G on my phone so I'd dabble on FB for a bit, but not as much as I normally do.

But before I knew it time was flying by, and in the end the isolation and quiet, without real distractions, had a profound affect on me.  I found that I wasn't stressed in the least, even when there was evidently a large animal in the bush the second night here. Triggs barked at it from the deck and it took off, so I now know I had some tough security. My sleeping habits returned to normal, and I found myself eating less. I discovered that a walk to the beach and a swim was more than enough cardio.

So how did I pass my time? For me time at the lake had no meaning.  By myself I could truly listen to my body rhythms.  I'd simply ask myself what I wanted to do and I did it.  Besides reading a lot of Cottage magazines, and a novel, I got in the habit of actually watching the wildlife right out my front
door- birds collecting twigs and such off the ground; squirrels gathering pinecones and chattering at Triggs; and a doe cooling in the shade of the fire hall across the street.  By the end of day four I knew the time by the sun.  I pondered questions about the universe and nature.

can you spot the deer?

My biggest pastime at the cabin was writing.  When summer started I went gung-ho with
writing my novel again after a break.  When I read it cover to cover I soon found myself falling out of love with my book baby.  I hated it; I almost deleted it. Luckily I held off and with no distractions and the mountain air I found my muse and writing groove again. If it wasn't for being at the lake then who knows what might have become of my 102,978 word -baby?

Another neat thing about staying here alone was that I could wear what I liked without judgement. The only down side to that was when an occasional visitor popped by to check on me.  I was a tiny bit embarrassed about wearing PJ pants, a tank top, a pair of socks with crocks in the early evening.  But I just pretended that was normal, as hey, I'm at the lake, which means no fashion police! I'm free as a bird!

Now that I'm home again I've realized this experience was one that everyone should try- spending more than 48 hrs alone, without access to the digital world.  Unplug and listen instead to the wind and patterns of everyday life.  It makes you appreciate how wonderful the world is around you.  More importantly it allows you to get to know yourself.  You can find clarity in your thoughts and hopefully come to some epiphanies.  I know I had a few, but I'll keep them to myself for now.

Just imagine going on vacation alone.... how would you spend your time?

"Paper Anniversary"

Scott and I celebrated 365 days of wedded bliss on July 23rd. Well I'd be lying if I said everyday has been picture perfect, as there has been some mere moments of frustration in our first year of marriage, but nothing serious. They say your first year of marriage is the toughest, if this is true then I really will have an easy time with mine. Naw, I'm not that naive, as this isn't my "first rodeo". Both Scott and I know the mistakes we made the first time around with our exes, so with lessons learned we work hard to ensure our relationship is as solid as possible.  Time together, effective communication, and a sense of humour go a long way in creating a happy marriage. Of course there are other things that help- love, patience and some romance to keep the zsa -zsa- zsu going.

So when I mentioned to Scott I wanted to do something special for our anniversary I was just expecting him to take me out for a fine dinner; I never expected a five day celebration for just the two of us. Lately, any time with Scott is precious as he has started a new business.  Anyone who owns their own business and is successful knows it takes a lot of time to get things off the ground. So when Scott proposed a trip to my parents' cabin in Shuswap for 4 days it reminded me of his love and commitment he has for me.

We decided to take off for our anniverarymoon the morning after our "Shakespeare in the Vineyard" event. The first day of our five day celebration was spent at Township 7 Winery in Langley. The evening was magical- much as I suspected Shakespeare would want it. We dined on a home-made picnic of BLT sandwiches, grapes, cheese and of course a bottle of Syrah from the Township. We sat in amongst the vines enjoying our feast. Then when the sun sunk behind the trees, we procured seats in the open-air theatre, ready to watch the hilarious comedy, "Comedy of Errors". Over the course of two hours we laughed and drank wine until it was time to go home.

The next morning we took off for the next four days to my parents' cabin in true comfort and style. Now for those of you who have seen this place you know there is almost every thing to make your stay very pleasant: a screened in porch; a large deck with a view of the lake; comfy beds :); and modern conveniences of a dishwasher and laundry room. It is also located across from the golf course, which is bonus for Scott!Oh don't forget the wine!

During these days our regular schedules fell to the wayside and we lived how I'm sure we are supposed to- just by our biological clock. We slept when tired, we ate when hungry, and did as we pleased. One of the childfree perks is that we could focus on each other and indulge our every whim without worrying about anyone else. What did it matter if we ate dinner at 9:00 pm or napped at 2:00 in the afternoon?

We had fires in the evenings and enjoyed literally the best two bottles of our entire lives thus far: A Pinot Noir from Gehringer Brothers Estate Winery called "Optimum", and Church and State's "Quintessential". Both from the Okanagan Valley.  We ate exquisite meals that Scott cooked the majority of- grilled salmon with a blueberry balsamic sauce, parmesan corn, and this mouthwatering burger, are just some samples off the menu.

What I cherished the most of these days was just having uninterrupted time with Scott. He told me that we should celebrate our anniversary like this every year. I agree. It was more than I could have asked for on our "Paper Anniversary"

These Are My "Kids"

As the school year winds down and I am putting my classroom back in order I notice the little reminders of my students displayed about- "after test" drawings stuck on the filing cabinet; a declaration of "We Love You Mrs Freeman" on the board; and two cards from senior students thanking me for making an "impact" in their lives.  These tangible items make me smile and I can almost hear their energy laden voices filling the empty space.  Being completely burnt out I am relieved this year has been put- to- bed, so to speak, but part of me is saddened too.  It's funny, you never know how much students contribute to your life until they are gone; meaning while you teach them day in and day out you don't recognize how much a part of you they are until the year is done.  Now granted there are a few I'm glad to see go, but even then those challenging ones stick with you.

This June in particular has been a bittersweet time for me as I have come to realize how much certain students have impacted my life and left imprints in me; some of these students I will hopefully see again in the years to come.  On the last day of classes I told my Eng 9 classes they are my next set of babies who will graduate in the coming years.  My 9's this time around were my champions everyday; no matter how crazy they were in period 4 they made me laugh- I could have been having the worst day and in mere moments they would have me smiling again.  It has been a long time since I had such a connection with a particular group of teenagers.  The last time was four years ago, when I taught a fantastic group of 9's, who left the nest.  When I watched them walk across the stage my heart filled with the type of pride a parent would feel. Though I can't say for sure as I don't have kids myself, I'm sure my feelings of pride are very similar to a parent's, just not as magnified.  I have spent the last four years watching this group grow and mature into fine, young adults.  These are the sweet bits

Bitter or grief is the other half of the equation for me this year.  In the past year I have had two former students pass away.  My overwhelming reaction to the news of their deaths took me by surprise, for I didn't know then how much they had meant to me.  The first was a student I had only taught one year, but it was a memorable one.  2005/2006 was my first school year at Sullivan and this kid's graduating year.  Since he was in my senior acting class he was able to attend our Performing Arts New York trip that spring. This student had never flown on a plane nor been away from his family.  One might think he would have been nervous; if he was, it never showed, as his confident exterior and good natured humour shined bright posing in front of the Statue of Liberty and having the time of his life.  During our trip we visited the United Nations building, and while there he asked "how do people work at the UN?" Something must have struck a cord with him as he did end up working for the UN.  Sadly, while residing and working in Chile, he met his accidental death this past January.  It's hard to believe this remarkable young man is gone.

My other student passed away this June after a 8 month battle with leukemia.  She had graduated three years ago, and I still remember our conversation at her "dinner and dance".  All dressed up, looking very mature, she told me how excited she was to be finally able to start working toward her dream of becoming a youth care worker or counsellor for troubled youth.  It was a career path I knew she'd be good at, since she could empathize with these teens.  I met her in 2005 in my grade 9 dance/drama class.  Her tough attitude boded well for her as she secured a role as a "pink lady" in our production of Grease.  She was reluctant at first, but after awhile I caught her smiling and enjoying herself.  As the years went on she was a familiar face in my English classes, and from there we were able to develop a strong rapport with one another.  I'll never forget her smile and larger than life laugh that could fill a room and more.  This amazing young woman left us too soon.

Both of these students will remain in my heart for years to come.  People say it must be sad that I don't have children of my own, but I don't think so.  In my mind I am a surrogate parent to many of my students; I not only teach them, but I also worry about them and feel pride like a parent when they succeed.  These are my "kids". I wonder what next year will bring?