One of our last days in Bristol, on a boat in the Floating Harbour
Emma's friends on a field trip to Wales to visit a medieval castle
Another white dove on the field trip
Gentle giants that chased me after I took their picture!
Then, there was the Leaver's Ceremony at the Wells Cathedral, which was of course, in Wells. I must admit that to be able to go to Wells on any occasion is probably as close to God as I will get until at least, my big exit arrives. In any case, this is a cathedral of pure grandeur, greatness beyond my human capability of understanding. So, when my Year 6's and I were invited to share in this farewell day, of course I said yes.
We arrived after a half hour of windy turns and twists and eventually arrived. Upon parking, my dear Belinda and I stopped before going any further. As all good teachers do, we reviewed the safety and behavioral expectations of this very important trip. Seeing that this was the last of our adventures together, I wanted to make sure that the students were going to act dignified and composed, especially in this near 1000 year old church.
We proceeded towards the towers and entered, along with 40 other primary schools worth of 12 year olds. As you can see from the photo,
students all were in proper uniform and gathering in front of the entrance. So, when we went in, I wandered over to the check in and found out that we were sitting in THE VERY LAST ROW! This was a bit disconcerting as I thought--Wow! What's the chance of this happening? It seemed like a good kilometre to the front where the Vicar was speaking. But, in the end, it was a blessing in disguise!
Firstly, as the opening prayers were being said and the songs being sung, one of my students turned to me and rather loudly stated Why should I have to sit and listen to this? I'm Muslim. Well, true enough. I just responded with a comment of being sensitive to other cultures, etc. And secretly hoping to appease him for at least a few more minutes. Well, this wasn't enough. He decided to show respect for other cultures and beliefs by taking out his waterbottle and squirting it down onto the VERY OLD hand made kneeling cushions located behind every seat. If I hadn't been in church, I probably would have used God's name in BIG LOUD VAIN!!
Then there were the looks. You know, the teachers of other schools cast a reproachful look over their 'holier than though' shoulders, catching my embarassed down-cast eyes as if to say, Can't you make your class behave? Yeah, whatever BUDDY! Like you've never been in my shoes!
Thankfully, the opening ceremony ended and off to the different sessions we went.
I had such a good time at the sessions! The first one was a fellow from Philadelphia who wrote graphic novels of scenes from the bible for kids. He was a brilliant storyteller and my kids loved him. I think it was mostly the accent that kept them engaged, but all the same, it was tremendous. Then, we were off to another group to do some music activites which were enjoyed by all, especially by me! Funny how you can act like a total bobblehead when you know you only have so much time left somewhere. I was with my group of boys and they just kept saying...Miss! Do you have to sing so loud?
Then, our last session was a tour of the cathedral. I just find this so wondrous. The stained glass panels in the back were blown out during an early, very early battle and the monks meticulously picked up each piece that they could find. They tried with exactness to redo the windows, but realized that it was virtually impossible, so they turned it into a beautiful mosiac which I think is just as stunning and magnificent as the scenes. As we walked through with the tour guide, he told us to watch out for Louis, the Cathedral cat. We didn't see him that day, but later when Marybeth and Butch were in the Cathedral, we did find him drinking out of the flower vases.
As the sessions were closing, I went to find my water bottle squiter. He seemed to have wandered off and I was a bit concerned, for a few more than many, reasons. I did find him though, standing next to the beautiful votive candles, admiring their strength of glow and the spiritual quality that emanated from their tiny coloured enclosures. Then, he started to blow them out one by one. At this point, God allowed my to use his name in vain.
We wandered back to our last row of seats for the closing ceremony. Prayers were said, thoughts for Year 6's about moving on were stated and then the Candle of Hope ceremony began. At student from each school was to walk up to the alter and light a big white candle and then return to their seat. But, suddenly I realized that the teacher must accompany them. After watching 39 or so other schools do this, I slowly rose out of my pew, took one of my Year 6 girls by the hand and proceeded to walk up the kilometre long aisle, all eyes on us. She dipped her candle into the flame of another and we turned to walk back. At this point, the Cathedral was silent. All waiting for us to finish our careful walk back to the LAST PEW! We couldn't walk fast because our hope flame would extinguish. So, with our hands guarding the flame, we gently proceeded, step by step through the lights of all other previously lit candles, to arrive at our seat. And, then the choir began, singing to the Heavens of all that is good, and my water squirting Muslim boy, leaned over and blew out our Hope candle. I still can't decide if this is funny or not. In any case, I'm pretty sure that God was NOT going to let me lean over and say the words that were on the tip of my tongue at this moment.
Those were the final days with the Dundry gang. Someone here in Alberta asked if I would do it again, same place, same everything...well, my answer took nanoseconds to be said...a definite and firmative yes. No doubt, no hestiation. I loved every minute.
(Emma and Bonnie with a big crab at Lyme Regis)
Last minute fossil hunting at Jurassic Coast
Getting ready to go home was tough, tough, tough! It really started a few weeks before the actual exit date with packing up boxes to send home and bringing everything back to the charity shops that we had bought there. I'm so impressed with charity shops! I've never been one to sneer at second hand living supplies in Canada so when I went into the charity shops, I was totally in my element! I even convinced Brian and the girls to look beyond labels and buy cheap. It literally paid off as most of the coats and sweaters came from the shops. Not all second stores in Canada are created equally. You know, you get the standard thrift shop which I have trouble going into because of dust and mold allergies, then you have Value Village which for the frugal shopper can be satisfactory. Also good for Halloween costumes as any smart mom knows. And then there are the consignment stores which only resell the best dressed gently used stuff. These were the charity shops mostly. If you didn't mind looking through the weird stuff, and you weren't one to turn up your nose, you could leave the store smiling.
But, in the end, we had to downsize our year's accumulations and stuff the rest into boxes. Then came the cleaning of Helen's beautiful house. Thankfully, Brian is one of those people that can think ahead--by months really! Me, I'm contented with procrastinating until the last minute and then succumb to stress related illness. In any case, we started at the top and worked our way down, until the last day, I was scrubbing the floor in the front hallway and finally, as I pushed out our luggage and last few items, I closed the door and dropped the keys through the slot. This is where the tears started. Whilst I was cleaning the remainders of dirt, a small and intimate crowd had gathered outside the front door--John, the neighbor, a few kids and parents, and Maxine. I gulped the last of a leftover red bottle of wine, and with the slam of the door, turned to face the people that had made our year so wonderful.
There we were, rather speechless and rather distressed by the piles of luggage that stood before us on the sidewalk. Then, those few words that declare war on the emotions--WEll, I guess this is it. We're off.
How do you say goodbye to a year, to a group of amazing individuals that accepted you on par and people who you'd never have met, ever otherwise. Because of luck, chance or fate I suppose. But, it is a deeply rooted and fast growing relationship when you only have 12 months to establish an understanding of another culture and life. It does impart a sense of freedom though, knowing that you can be a bit reckless and carefree in revealing yourself to others. I truly think that some of the relationships we created with neighbours were like those deep meaningful ones that take years--that or the ones you create in bar bathrooms when you are young and intoxicated and then you come out hours later only to discover that you've made life changing plans and your friends have left.
In any case, we all stood around looking at the piles of luggage, regressing back to the simple superficial talk that introduced us originally. No one wanted to say anything too personal as there wasn't anymore time to develop the thoughts. Minutes were left, no more chances in the next days to finish funny stories or conversations. The only hope for leaving were giant hugs, and moving towards the luggage.
John was the hardest to leave. He was our anchor in Bristol. He was our problem solver and our trusted friend. You could always be assured of a calming talk and some silly stories to share when he was on his porch smoking. I hope to see him again--- no, I will see him again.
It was rather symbolic, me, Brian, my dad and the girls, all watching our little old beat up car being toed away. After the man came to haul her away, we each grabbed handles of the luggage and started up the winding road to the bus stop. No cabbie in their right mind would EVER have taken us on. So, it was public transit for us, all the way to downtown glorious Bristol. We booked hotel rooms next to the bus station as we needed to get up with the seagulls to catch our bus and get into Gatwick on time.
After checking into the hotel, we decided that one last big dinner in Bristol was in order. So, we got on our raingear and headed to the old town, the one that the girls and I first explored on our second day in Bristol. We found a rather posh Italian place, where each table has at least 4 waiters, all in fancy black and white uniforms. You couldn't blink without them noticing! It felt like we were royalty! But, as good wine would have it, we started getting silly. First, we order the
the langoustines, just like Mr. Bean in his French holiday.
Well, otherwise known as fancy crayfish, these little guys come with eyeballs. Which, by the way, horrified the girls. Sometimes though, you just have to pretend you are famous and do freaky shit! They were tasty and as the 5 helicopter waiters were hovering over us, we acted sensibly and consumed them felicitously, but then the sillies began. I looked down at my plate and saw the rest of what was once a little living creature, and placed his still intact head onto the olive oil dispenser. Tentacles and all, he stared at us in a rather displeased manner. Then the girls started by putting their leftover heads onto the ends of cutlery and dancing them around. I'm sure that the 5 officious waiters were wanting to slap our hands to high heaven, but as good waiters will be, they just turned their disgusted faces away, waiting for us to 'be finished' and remove the plates.
Wandering home through the walled streets of Bristol after in the rain, was a pleasant and deliberate walk. We all fell rather silent and took in the last of what would be our year. I ran my hand along the stone walls, made eye contact with every statue and gargoyle, and purposefully stepped in every rainy puddle. It was done. Our joyous year complete and we were leaving in the morning.
Now, the thoughts that I had to force into my head, were about what I so missed from home, my friends, my pets, our house, the snow. It was hard, that plane ride, and Dad, who was 30 rows behind us on the plane was lucky because he had the Yorkie bar stash that we hoped to preserve as long as possible, only to enjoy like little Charlie Bucket. Well, there was one left upon landing. I think that Dad was even having England withdrawal pains.
So, we are home now. Have returned to normal and are relatively wound up in our Albertan lives. The girls are filling their time with friends and classes, Brian is back at work, we are driving this way and that to things, and every so often, every once and awhile, at fleeting moments in time, I put myself back in the place of fluffy bummed sheep, winding roads, history and tides of the Avon river, Nick, Andrea, Ester and Jessie, school uniforms and small British children, coastal views, piles of laundry in the kitchen, Myrtle and Lady, tea on cold mornings and Dundry school, sweet Mousse, dear kind John and a deep appreciation for what that year has left in my heart.
(backyard bbq in Edmonton with Nick and Andrea)
But, in the end, we came home. And I know that this is where I need to be. This is the place that has nurtured me to who I am. I cannot leave it. And seriously, who can live without Dad's waffles on a Sunday morning and a trip to the pond to go froggin?
Bye bye Moussey! We love you!
A Happy foursome posing for a picture perfect moment
Something very strange has happened and by now I have probably lost my readership, but this is for all of you who haven't given up on me yet. Writing this last entry has been challenging for me. I've been blaming it on many things--adjustment to being home, too busy, new school starting, unpacking those last few boxes and perhaps the phone ringing again. But, the answer came to me today, unexpectedly. I must admit though, that it mostly has to do with not wanting to admit that the year is over. Gone into the memory banks of life and someday to be organized into a photo album. But, luckily enough, a chance for me to write the ending beckoned and I answered the call. Now, thankfully I am able to write this final entry of an amazing year.
Something very strange has happened and by now I have probably lost my readership, but this is for all of you who haven't given up on me yet. Writing this last entry has been challenging for me. I've been blaming it on many things--adjustment to being home, too busy, new school starting, unpacking those last few boxes and perhaps the phone ringing again. But, the answer came to me today, unexpectedly. I must admit though, that it mostly has to do with not wanting to admit that the year is over. Gone into the memory banks of life and someday to be organized into a photo album. But, luckily enough, a chance for me to write the ending beckoned and I answered the call. Now, thankfully I am able to write this final entry of an amazing year.
As I have been back at school for many weeks and had two weeks prior to that to adjust to life back in Alberta AND a blast from the last few months in England, I can say that, well, I have a lot to say.First, I'd like you to all think back to a time when you and your friends have sat in front of a wonderful and well prepared dessert, one that comes with twirly chocolate swirls, and drippy threaded chocolate sauce. Perhaps a 10.00 treat at a royal restaurant, shared by all who got lucky enough to have their own fork! Slowly, you shave away until the last morsel is left and you all watch it out of the corner of your eye, waiting to see who will be the one who finally bites the bullet and scoops it up. Well...let's just say that this is that last bite.
Everyone in England always said, If you don't like the weather, wait a minute. Well, one minute the sun was gloriously shining, the next, you felt as if you were a vegetable in the produce section getting your five minute spray down. This pretty much sums up my feelings of leaving Bristol and returning here to lovely Canada. The weeks up to leaving were hectic and similarly, my moods! It was getting tiring keeping up with the feeling of the minute. Do I want to go home? NOOOO!!!! But, then the clouds shifted and it was I can't WAIT to get HOME!!! And as I write this, now comfortably sitting in my basement on 144 Street, I can finally say that I have come to a firm decision about where I want to be. More on that later...
So much had happened since our last chat, dear readers! I do want to apologize for the lateness of this last instillation, but as busy as we were and as incredibly fast our last few weeks were coming at us, I just couldn't take my eyes off the road of life.
Firstly, I figured out what Term 6 meant at Dundry School. You see, May brought the arrival of SATs, the dreaded achievement tests for the Year 6's. It was a rather pleasant time leading up to these, as we were all relatively focused on the task at hand which was to finish teaching all of the curriculum. Jenny, Dundry's Supreme Being, was taking the Year 6's for special 'insider information' review sessions, and I was left with 12 year 5 students. All in all it was a successful time for us. SAT's week came, and with it a great deal of self-imposed pressure from everyone involved. Firstly, the day usually started with tears of anxiety and apprehension by certain students. Then, I was sent off to mind the Year 5's whilst Jenny bravely entered the classroom with brand new sharpened pencils and a whole pile of test booklets. I always knew that the next time I'd see my Year 6's, we'd all be one test closer to freedom! And, let me tell you, no matter who says that tests are just tests, these were not! They were serious affairs requiring concentration, silence and deep exaltation upon completion. Jenny conducted a large and happy YEAHHHHH when the last test was handed in. I'm pretty sure it could be heard all the way down Dundry Lane.
Then, we faced Term 6. Eight glorious weeks of...well...stuff! As all of the curriculum was completed, we started to prepare and practice for the 150th year of Dundry School's big performance and exhibition. This seemed like a real hit and miss teaching plan to me at first, and at times, it was, but once we arranged the final plan for the performance, things started to fall in place.
All children in Edmonton could summon up quickly an outfit to represent either a First Nations person, a hockey star or perhaps a
So much had happened since our last chat, dear readers! I do want to apologize for the lateness of this last instillation, but as busy as we were and as incredibly fast our last few weeks were coming at us, I just couldn't take my eyes off the road of life.
Firstly, I figured out what Term 6 meant at Dundry School. You see, May brought the arrival of SATs, the dreaded achievement tests for the Year 6's. It was a rather pleasant time leading up to these, as we were all relatively focused on the task at hand which was to finish teaching all of the curriculum. Jenny, Dundry's Supreme Being, was taking the Year 6's for special 'insider information' review sessions, and I was left with 12 year 5 students. All in all it was a successful time for us. SAT's week came, and with it a great deal of self-imposed pressure from everyone involved. Firstly, the day usually started with tears of anxiety and apprehension by certain students. Then, I was sent off to mind the Year 5's whilst Jenny bravely entered the classroom with brand new sharpened pencils and a whole pile of test booklets. I always knew that the next time I'd see my Year 6's, we'd all be one test closer to freedom! And, let me tell you, no matter who says that tests are just tests, these were not! They were serious affairs requiring concentration, silence and deep exaltation upon completion. Jenny conducted a large and happy YEAHHHHH when the last test was handed in. I'm pretty sure it could be heard all the way down Dundry Lane.
Then, we faced Term 6. Eight glorious weeks of...well...stuff! As all of the curriculum was completed, we started to prepare and practice for the 150th year of Dundry School's big performance and exhibition. This seemed like a real hit and miss teaching plan to me at first, and at times, it was, but once we arranged the final plan for the performance, things started to fall in place.
(little Victorian Lookalikes in Dundry playground and heading to Church)
All children in Edmonton could summon up quickly an outfit to represent either a First Nations person, a hockey star or perhaps a
cowboy, but in Dundry, pretty much every child has a Victorian or World War 2 evacuee outfit for those dress up days at school. One of our events for the celebration of 150 years, was a street party, with circus acts, WW2 food and cake! Well, it rained. So, we learned how to juggle, spin plates and be silly in the assembly hall. Then, after a glorious lunch of meat spread sandwiches, squash drink and this pinky jellish dessert, we all trooped outside bravely in our costumes to have our special guest come and cut the cake. The special guest was a lady who was once the school office administrator, and whose mother was actually born in Jenny's office as this little room was once the house of the 
Headteacher with its covered over fireplace. The mother, and daughter were both pupils of Dundry school.
All in all, the celebrations and the final performance were stunning! I especially like how the Village Hall, which housed all school events, serves beer and cider to parents and weary teachers after the show ends and the crowd goes home!
Headteacher with its covered over fireplace. The mother, and daughter were both pupils of Dundry school.All in all, the celebrations and the final performance were stunning! I especially like how the Village Hall, which housed all school events, serves beer and cider to parents and weary teachers after the show ends and the crowd goes home!
During the 150th Church service, I asked one of the governors if I could sneak up the bell tower to watch the ringers in action. She let me by, and I started to climb the tower, but I missed the actual bell ringing door and continued to climb through the noticable cobwebs and undisturbed moss and ended up on the absolute top of the tower, out in the open! Before I went up, the Govenor did warn me that during the bell ringing, the 400 year old church tower did sway and I found out quickly what that meant! But, as I pressed through the cobwebs and opened the 
door to the open sunlight, I realized that this in itself, was worth coming to England . Standing on this tower, overlooking my world of 10 months, I knew I had come to the pinnacle of my time at Dundry and the whole experience of living England for one year. The 360 degree view left me with a full heart of joy and sadness simultaneouly. Joy for having gotten through the challenges of teaching and living in an unfamiliar place, the serendipitious meetings of the wonderful people and the newly found adventures. The sadness came from the thought of leaving...pure and simple.
I did eventually make it back down to the bell ringing room, and let me tell you, ringing bells is
better than a 3 hour long pilates class! These ringers were in deep concentration pulling huge ropes with beads of sweat forming. I asked later if there was any rhyme or reason to the sequence and found out that it was all arranged into an order and if you missed one, well, the other ringers would throw you off the tower later. I eventually worked my way back down the winding steps to join the students walking back, but just before, I took this marvelous picture of Dundry.
door to the open sunlight, I realized that this in itself, was worth coming to England . Standing on this tower, overlooking my world of 10 months, I knew I had come to the pinnacle of my time at Dundry and the whole experience of living England for one year. The 360 degree view left me with a full heart of joy and sadness simultaneouly. Joy for having gotten through the challenges of teaching and living in an unfamiliar place, the serendipitious meetings of the wonderful people and the newly found adventures. The sadness came from the thought of leaving...pure and simple.I did eventually make it back down to the bell ringing room, and let me tell you, ringing bells is
better than a 3 hour long pilates class! These ringers were in deep concentration pulling huge ropes with beads of sweat forming. I asked later if there was any rhyme or reason to the sequence and found out that it was all arranged into an order and if you missed one, well, the other ringers would throw you off the tower later. I eventually worked my way back down the winding steps to join the students walking back, but just before, I took this marvelous picture of Dundry.The last few days of Dundry were sad ones. I had to fight back those sneaky tears that creep out of your eyes when you're not looking! Saying goodbye to the staff was not easy and I had to do a great deal of self talk to keep my head above water. I decided that meeting the Dundry staff and getting to know them over 10 months was like opening a set of nesting boxes. First impressions, then personalities, griefs and accomplishments, then quirks and idiosyncrasies. Reflecting upon all of the amazing staff at Dundry, most of whom I'm sad to say, I don't know when I'll see again, I decided to give them a gift of something that would remind me of them. Gilly, the reception teacher, I gave a small easel and canvas as she is an artist, both in teaching and as a painter. Hazel, my lovely partner, I gave a GI Joe doll, one with a handsome stature, until of course she finds her own burly boy. Jenny, well, I was having a hard time making a choice for her. What can you get for a person that has supported you from the sidelines, cheering for you secretely as you hit the obstacles that could knock you down for good? And, of course ready for round two as soon as it happens? Really, in the end, the exigent decision was to provide her with the complete book of 'Insults and Comebacks'. You can think this one through for yourself, but if the need arises that she is faced with a troublesome situation, she'll be armed and ready! God, I miss that place!
Leading up to departure, there were some tremendous things that happened. Emma was involved in a play called 'Joseph and the Technicolour Dream Coat'. She hada part as one of the wives, which required an audition!
I must brag at this point about my daughters. A mom's prerogative. Lambaste if you must. I'm immune. Nothing scares me anymore. Nothing makes me throw in the towel anymore.
Emma flourished. She was granted many awards in her work at St. Katherines. The certificates started arriving at the end of July. OH!! Be still my bragging heart! And, Bonnie was awarded the HeadTeacher award at Shirehampton Primary. She had a part in the year end produciton 'Oliver'. It was if both of them fell out of the tumble dryer that we stuffed them into and came out fluffed and refreshed. I'm also pretty certain that my beautiful mom had cast her hand in helping them achieve and from Heaven, had helped them through the hard times to meet personal challenges.
Which brings me to the next subject...personal challenges. We all have them and sometimes, without even knowing that they exist. Each one of us personal challenges. Some just appear like dust bunnies in the corner of your floor, and others, you have been boxing with for years. Well, when I think of the p.c.'s (lovely acronym for personal challenges) Brian came out on top. Running has saved him. This probably was just a big dust bunny waiting to happen and when he said the words last November...I think I'll start running...the cheers were heard around the world. This changed his life. I have never seen him so relaxed, happy and well, a hell of a lot fitter than me! Then, there's Bonnie. The girl who didn't speak until she was sufficiently bribed with stickers in Kindergarten. It's incredible for her to have mde it through two new schools having to talk to people and make new friends, an after school program and to come out singing like a spring robin! Literally! She found her singing voice which blesses us daily! That, Disney's High School Musical and the NOW 68, 69 and 70 CD's. Lemme tell you about this.
Leading up to departure, there were some tremendous things that happened. Emma was involved in a play called 'Joseph and the Technicolour Dream Coat'. She hada part as one of the wives, which required an audition!
I must brag at this point about my daughters. A mom's prerogative. Lambaste if you must. I'm immune. Nothing scares me anymore. Nothing makes me throw in the towel anymore.
Emma flourished. She was granted many awards in her work at St. Katherines. The certificates started arriving at the end of July. OH!! Be still my bragging heart! And, Bonnie was awarded the HeadTeacher award at Shirehampton Primary. She had a part in the year end produciton 'Oliver'. It was if both of them fell out of the tumble dryer that we stuffed them into and came out fluffed and refreshed. I'm also pretty certain that my beautiful mom had cast her hand in helping them achieve and from Heaven, had helped them through the hard times to meet personal challenges.
Which brings me to the next subject...personal challenges. We all have them and sometimes, without even knowing that they exist. Each one of us personal challenges. Some just appear like dust bunnies in the corner of your floor, and others, you have been boxing with for years. Well, when I think of the p.c.'s (lovely acronym for personal challenges) Brian came out on top. Running has saved him. This probably was just a big dust bunny waiting to happen and when he said the words last November...I think I'll start running...the cheers were heard around the world. This changed his life. I have never seen him so relaxed, happy and well, a hell of a lot fitter than me! Then, there's Bonnie. The girl who didn't speak until she was sufficiently bribed with stickers in Kindergarten. It's incredible for her to have mde it through two new schools having to talk to people and make new friends, an after school program and to come out singing like a spring robin! Literally! She found her singing voice which blesses us daily! That, Disney's High School Musical and the NOW 68, 69 and 70 CD's. Lemme tell you about this.
Pop music is a force to be reckoned with in England. The top songs inundate your brain to topsy-turvyness! You are lucky if you can escape the best and brightest musical stars on any radio station or supermarket. Really, one of my sole refuges from this was the library. You could count on the ladies in the Shire library to never know the top 40! But, at some point, years ago, someone had an idea to put the most popular songs and their weird hairdoed artists on one disc. This was NOW, mid 70's I think. So, by the time we got to Bristol, they were on 68, then 69 and 70. I bet if you asked Bonnie to sing any of the songs, the little songbird could belt them out in stunning performance. Needless to say, we enrolled her into musical theatre.
Emma's friends on a field trip to Wales to visit a medieval castle
On to Emma's p.c. This is a kid who has always shied away from the unknown. Until now. Being sent to Year 7 seemed to open the doors of independence. Her success in school and in building new friendships were formed through need for survival. And, as you educators now who've read 'Emile' by Jean Jaques Rousseau, we learn through necessity.
There were also a few other highlights of our last days of school. We went on a field trip. My class, Jenny and I all went to walk the 'Strawberry Line". The line was part of the Great Western Railway and originally completed in 1869 and the tunnel was built by Brunel, the same engineer that built the Bristol Suspension Bridge, the S.S. Great Britian ship, and the Great Western Railway.
It takes its name from the famous Cheddar strawberries which used to be carried along the route. The route also became an important line for passengers, dairy produce and stone from Mendip quarries.
The walk through the tunnel was long and dark and amazing as most of Brunel's work was. Then we ended up on a hill that overlooked Glastonbury, the Estuary, and all of the Mendips to Wells. I can say that we don't get to do field trips like that much in Alberta.
The view from the top of the Mendips
It takes its name from the famous Cheddar strawberries which used to be carried along the route. The route also became an important line for passengers, dairy produce and stone from Mendip quarries.
The walk through the tunnel was long and dark and amazing as most of Brunel's work was. Then we ended up on a hill that overlooked Glastonbury, the Estuary, and all of the Mendips to Wells. I can say that we don't get to do field trips like that much in Alberta.
The view from the top of the Mendips
Another white dove on the field trip
Gentle giants that chased me after I took their picture!Then, there was the Leaver's Ceremony at the Wells Cathedral, which was of course, in Wells. I must admit that to be able to go to Wells on any occasion is probably as close to God as I will get until at least, my big exit arrives. In any case, this is a cathedral of pure grandeur, greatness beyond my human capability of understanding. So, when my Year 6's and I were invited to share in this farewell day, of course I said yes.
We arrived after a half hour of windy turns and twists and eventually arrived. Upon parking, my dear Belinda and I stopped before going any further. As all good teachers do, we reviewed the safety and behavioral expectations of this very important trip. Seeing that this was the last of our adventures together, I wanted to make sure that the students were going to act dignified and composed, especially in this near 1000 year old church.
We proceeded towards the towers and entered, along with 40 other primary schools worth of 12 year olds. As you can see from the photo,
students all were in proper uniform and gathering in front of the entrance. So, when we went in, I wandered over to the check in and found out that we were sitting in THE VERY LAST ROW! This was a bit disconcerting as I thought--Wow! What's the chance of this happening? It seemed like a good kilometre to the front where the Vicar was speaking. But, in the end, it was a blessing in disguise!
Firstly, as the opening prayers were being said and the songs being sung, one of my students turned to me and rather loudly stated Why should I have to sit and listen to this? I'm Muslim. Well, true enough. I just responded with a comment of being sensitive to other cultures, etc. And secretly hoping to appease him for at least a few more minutes. Well, this wasn't enough. He decided to show respect for other cultures and beliefs by taking out his waterbottle and squirting it down onto the VERY OLD hand made kneeling cushions located behind every seat. If I hadn't been in church, I probably would have used God's name in BIG LOUD VAIN!!
Then there were the looks. You know, the teachers of other schools cast a reproachful look over their 'holier than though' shoulders, catching my embarassed down-cast eyes as if to say, Can't you make your class behave? Yeah, whatever BUDDY! Like you've never been in my shoes!Thankfully, the opening ceremony ended and off to the different sessions we went.
I had such a good time at the sessions! The first one was a fellow from Philadelphia who wrote graphic novels of scenes from the bible for kids. He was a brilliant storyteller and my kids loved him. I think it was mostly the accent that kept them engaged, but all the same, it was tremendous. Then, we were off to another group to do some music activites which were enjoyed by all, especially by me! Funny how you can act like a total bobblehead when you know you only have so much time left somewhere. I was with my group of boys and they just kept saying...Miss! Do you have to sing so loud?
Then, our last session was a tour of the cathedral. I just find this so wondrous. The stained glass panels in the back were blown out during an early, very early battle and the monks meticulously picked up each piece that they could find. They tried with exactness to redo the windows, but realized that it was virtually impossible, so they turned it into a beautiful mosiac which I think is just as stunning and magnificent as the scenes. As we walked through with the tour guide, he told us to watch out for Louis, the Cathedral cat. We didn't see him that day, but later when Marybeth and Butch were in the Cathedral, we did find him drinking out of the flower vases.
As the sessions were closing, I went to find my water bottle squiter. He seemed to have wandered off and I was a bit concerned, for a few more than many, reasons. I did find him though, standing next to the beautiful votive candles, admiring their strength of glow and the spiritual quality that emanated from their tiny coloured enclosures. Then, he started to blow them out one by one. At this point, God allowed my to use his name in vain.
We wandered back to our last row of seats for the closing ceremony. Prayers were said, thoughts for Year 6's about moving on were stated and then the Candle of Hope ceremony began. At student from each school was to walk up to the alter and light a big white candle and then return to their seat. But, suddenly I realized that the teacher must accompany them. After watching 39 or so other schools do this, I slowly rose out of my pew, took one of my Year 6 girls by the hand and proceeded to walk up the kilometre long aisle, all eyes on us. She dipped her candle into the flame of another and we turned to walk back. At this point, the Cathedral was silent. All waiting for us to finish our careful walk back to the LAST PEW! We couldn't walk fast because our hope flame would extinguish. So, with our hands guarding the flame, we gently proceeded, step by step through the lights of all other previously lit candles, to arrive at our seat. And, then the choir began, singing to the Heavens of all that is good, and my water squirting Muslim boy, leaned over and blew out our Hope candle. I still can't decide if this is funny or not. In any case, I'm pretty sure that God was NOT going to let me lean over and say the words that were on the tip of my tongue at this moment.
Those were the final days with the Dundry gang. Someone here in Alberta asked if I would do it again, same place, same everything...well, my answer took nanoseconds to be said...a definite and firmative yes. No doubt, no hestiation. I loved every minute.
In June, Nick, Andrea and their lovely girls, invited us to a music festival in Lynton and Lynmouth. We were to camp and sit in the sun and enjoy wonderful music which was exactly what we did. Splendid sun, incredible scenery, even sheep on pub tables! What more could you ask?
I had to laugh though because one of us is backwards, meaning either the British campers or Canadian campers. You see, when we go camping in Alberta, we try to scale down our possessions and well, try to bring only the essentials. But, the experiences we had camping in England were the reverse! They have apartment sized multi roomed tents, every gadget one could need and definitely take comfort to the maximum! I equate this to the fact that in Canada we live big. Big houses, big cars, big gadgets, and when we camp, we aim to get away from it all. Whereas in England, they live small. Smaller homes, less stuff and efficient little cars. So, when they camp, they want to make up for living in tighter quarters. Hey, they can spread out, bring the airy 3 room condo tent and sit back and relax. 
(Apartment tents)
(Visions of Lynton/Lynmouth)
This picture is of the tram that climbs a VERY steep cliff connecting Lynton and Lymouth. It is all run by water pressure!
Then, there was Bonnie's birthday party. A big celebration at the gym where Emma took trampolining. Fun was had by all of course. Especially listening to NOW 69 over and over.
Brian had the great idea of having a barbeque to say Thanks and Bye to all of our new found friends. We all agreed and he, being the 'Party Planner Extraordinaire" started the process. Tables were rented, barbeque bought, menu planned and invitations sent. Then, two days before it was to happen, the weather forecast was grim. We sadly sat on the bed, the four of us, trying to decide what to do. We finally capitulated to the weatherman and decided to cancel. There was no use in having the Brian, Beth, Bonnie and Emma Big Bash Bye bye Barbeque in the pouring rain. Helen's house would have paid a deadly price and we were NOT willing to have that happen. We all slumped off to bed, disappointed and disillusioned by the weather.
Then, the next morning, Brian came in, jumped on the bed and yelled IT'S ON!! The rain is clearing and we'll be fine.
That was the best thing that could have happened. Everyone gathered on Cerney lane, 60ish or so people and a few others who we didn't know, and we had the best blowout bbq bash yet! Everyone we invited showed up, some elderly gentlemen even came back for round 2 at about 10:00pm and we ate, joked and generally rolled around being silly until the wee hours. I knew it was time to start thinking of shuting down when we ran out of firewood and someone started to pull their fence apart. At about 3 a.m. I wandered off and left the mess and a few messed up people to fend for themselves. As the sun rose a few hours later, I looked out, just to make sure the fire hadn't taken over, and I saw a couple of children walking around eating leftover chips, a few dogs were vacuuming up leftover buns and their owners looking curiously on. Then I noticed a few covered lumps of people who had gone and retrieved their quilts for a camp out! I headed out, as my head was not going to let me sleep any longer, and the party started again. No drinking and frolicking this time though. All of the kids and I decided to decorate one of the sleeping lumps in condiments and leftover buns. Thus the human hotdog was created!
(Apartment tents)
(Visions of Lynton/Lynmouth)
This picture is of the tram that climbs a VERY steep cliff connecting Lynton and Lymouth. It is all run by water pressure!Then, there was Bonnie's birthday party. A big celebration at the gym where Emma took trampolining. Fun was had by all of course. Especially listening to NOW 69 over and over.
Brian had the great idea of having a barbeque to say Thanks and Bye to all of our new found friends. We all agreed and he, being the 'Party Planner Extraordinaire" started the process. Tables were rented, barbeque bought, menu planned and invitations sent. Then, two days before it was to happen, the weather forecast was grim. We sadly sat on the bed, the four of us, trying to decide what to do. We finally capitulated to the weatherman and decided to cancel. There was no use in having the Brian, Beth, Bonnie and Emma Big Bash Bye bye Barbeque in the pouring rain. Helen's house would have paid a deadly price and we were NOT willing to have that happen. We all slumped off to bed, disappointed and disillusioned by the weather.
Then, the next morning, Brian came in, jumped on the bed and yelled IT'S ON!! The rain is clearing and we'll be fine.
That was the best thing that could have happened. Everyone gathered on Cerney lane, 60ish or so people and a few others who we didn't know, and we had the best blowout bbq bash yet! Everyone we invited showed up, some elderly gentlemen even came back for round 2 at about 10:00pm and we ate, joked and generally rolled around being silly until the wee hours. I knew it was time to start thinking of shuting down when we ran out of firewood and someone started to pull their fence apart. At about 3 a.m. I wandered off and left the mess and a few messed up people to fend for themselves. As the sun rose a few hours later, I looked out, just to make sure the fire hadn't taken over, and I saw a couple of children walking around eating leftover chips, a few dogs were vacuuming up leftover buns and their owners looking curiously on. Then I noticed a few covered lumps of people who had gone and retrieved their quilts for a camp out! I headed out, as my head was not going to let me sleep any longer, and the party started again. No drinking and frolicking this time though. All of the kids and I decided to decorate one of the sleeping lumps in condiments and leftover buns. Thus the human hotdog was created!
Then there is Maxine. It would not be complete without mentionning her. Maxine was the first person we met and let me tell you, she would not let us forget it. Like clockwork, Maxine would show up yelling our names into the windows each and pretty much every day! We actually worried about her if she didn't show up. She and her two border collies made most people turn on a dime and hoof it in the other direction. I guess if we were to live there permanently, we probably would have developed that pivoting technique, but bless his heart, Brian spent quite a number of hours immersed in conversation with Maxine. The thing is, she knew everyone's business, all the creatures that lived in the area, and well, you name it. She was even the Avon lady--no lie! But, the thing that could lead you to the land of crazies was that she wouldn't stop talking...ever. I think there were many times that we had to actually close the door and you could hear her still chatting outside. For her birthday, I bought her dogs some really annoying squeaky toys. Thinking that this might drop a hint of what it is like to always have to listen, I was hoping that the dogs would squeak happily away--forever! And, they did, but it back fired as it added more fuel to her fire. She couldn't wait to get over to me and blast her disgust at the noise those toys made! Gotta love her though! Cerney lane wouldn't have been the same without her.
Four good friends on the River boat
After school ended, we spent a gloriously fun albeit raining week with Butch and Marybeth. We all travelled to the south coast, stayed in a wonderful cottage on the Devon coast and did a great deal of playing, sightseeing, and of course eating at pubs. You know, getting lost has always been the way for us to find new and exciting things to see. Well, one day, we drove a good 2 hours to finally find our destination, the Exmoor Tors. Actually in the end we were only about 20 miles from our cottage!
Four good friends on the River boatAfter school ended, we spent a gloriously fun albeit raining week with Butch and Marybeth. We all travelled to the south coast, stayed in a wonderful cottage on the Devon coast and did a great deal of playing, sightseeing, and of course eating at pubs. You know, getting lost has always been the way for us to find new and exciting things to see. Well, one day, we drove a good 2 hours to finally find our destination, the Exmoor Tors. Actually in the end we were only about 20 miles from our cottage!
(Emma and Bonnie with a big crab at Lyme Regis)
Last minute fossil hunting at Jurassic Coast
Getting ready to go home was tough, tough, tough! It really started a few weeks before the actual exit date with packing up boxes to send home and bringing everything back to the charity shops that we had bought there. I'm so impressed with charity shops! I've never been one to sneer at second hand living supplies in Canada so when I went into the charity shops, I was totally in my element! I even convinced Brian and the girls to look beyond labels and buy cheap. It literally paid off as most of the coats and sweaters came from the shops. Not all second stores in Canada are created equally. You know, you get the standard thrift shop which I have trouble going into because of dust and mold allergies, then you have Value Village which for the frugal shopper can be satisfactory. Also good for Halloween costumes as any smart mom knows. And then there are the consignment stores which only resell the best dressed gently used stuff. These were the charity shops mostly. If you didn't mind looking through the weird stuff, and you weren't one to turn up your nose, you could leave the store smiling.
But, in the end, we had to downsize our year's accumulations and stuff the rest into boxes. Then came the cleaning of Helen's beautiful house. Thankfully, Brian is one of those people that can think ahead--by months really! Me, I'm contented with procrastinating until the last minute and then succumb to stress related illness. In any case, we started at the top and worked our way down, until the last day, I was scrubbing the floor in the front hallway and finally, as I pushed out our luggage and last few items, I closed the door and dropped the keys through the slot. This is where the tears started. Whilst I was cleaning the remainders of dirt, a small and intimate crowd had gathered outside the front door--John, the neighbor, a few kids and parents, and Maxine. I gulped the last of a leftover red bottle of wine, and with the slam of the door, turned to face the people that had made our year so wonderful.There we were, rather speechless and rather distressed by the piles of luggage that stood before us on the sidewalk. Then, those few words that declare war on the emotions--WEll, I guess this is it. We're off.
How do you say goodbye to a year, to a group of amazing individuals that accepted you on par and people who you'd never have met, ever otherwise. Because of luck, chance or fate I suppose. But, it is a deeply rooted and fast growing relationship when you only have 12 months to establish an understanding of another culture and life. It does impart a sense of freedom though, knowing that you can be a bit reckless and carefree in revealing yourself to others. I truly think that some of the relationships we created with neighbours were like those deep meaningful ones that take years--that or the ones you create in bar bathrooms when you are young and intoxicated and then you come out hours later only to discover that you've made life changing plans and your friends have left.
In any case, we all stood around looking at the piles of luggage, regressing back to the simple superficial talk that introduced us originally. No one wanted to say anything too personal as there wasn't anymore time to develop the thoughts. Minutes were left, no more chances in the next days to finish funny stories or conversations. The only hope for leaving were giant hugs, and moving towards the luggage.
John was the hardest to leave. He was our anchor in Bristol. He was our problem solver and our trusted friend. You could always be assured of a calming talk and some silly stories to share when he was on his porch smoking. I hope to see him again--- no, I will see him again.
It was rather symbolic, me, Brian, my dad and the girls, all watching our little old beat up car being toed away. After the man came to haul her away, we each grabbed handles of the luggage and started up the winding road to the bus stop. No cabbie in their right mind would EVER have taken us on. So, it was public transit for us, all the way to downtown glorious Bristol. We booked hotel rooms next to the bus station as we needed to get up with the seagulls to catch our bus and get into Gatwick on time.
After checking into the hotel, we decided that one last big dinner in Bristol was in order. So, we got on our raingear and headed to the old town, the one that the girls and I first explored on our second day in Bristol. We found a rather posh Italian place, where each table has at least 4 waiters, all in fancy black and white uniforms. You couldn't blink without them noticing! It felt like we were royalty! But, as good wine would have it, we started getting silly. First, we order the
the langoustines, just like Mr. Bean in his French holiday.
Well, otherwise known as fancy crayfish, these little guys come with eyeballs. Which, by the way, horrified the girls. Sometimes though, you just have to pretend you are famous and do freaky shit! They were tasty and as the 5 helicopter waiters were hovering over us, we acted sensibly and consumed them felicitously, but then the sillies began. I looked down at my plate and saw the rest of what was once a little living creature, and placed his still intact head onto the olive oil dispenser. Tentacles and all, he stared at us in a rather displeased manner. Then the girls started by putting their leftover heads onto the ends of cutlery and dancing them around. I'm sure that the 5 officious waiters were wanting to slap our hands to high heaven, but as good waiters will be, they just turned their disgusted faces away, waiting for us to 'be finished' and remove the plates.Wandering home through the walled streets of Bristol after in the rain, was a pleasant and deliberate walk. We all fell rather silent and took in the last of what would be our year. I ran my hand along the stone walls, made eye contact with every statue and gargoyle, and purposefully stepped in every rainy puddle. It was done. Our joyous year complete and we were leaving in the morning.
Now, the thoughts that I had to force into my head, were about what I so missed from home, my friends, my pets, our house, the snow. It was hard, that plane ride, and Dad, who was 30 rows behind us on the plane was lucky because he had the Yorkie bar stash that we hoped to preserve as long as possible, only to enjoy like little Charlie Bucket. Well, there was one left upon landing. I think that Dad was even having England withdrawal pains.
So, we are home now. Have returned to normal and are relatively wound up in our Albertan lives. The girls are filling their time with friends and classes, Brian is back at work, we are driving this way and that to things, and every so often, every once and awhile, at fleeting moments in time, I put myself back in the place of fluffy bummed sheep, winding roads, history and tides of the Avon river, Nick, Andrea, Ester and Jessie, school uniforms and small British children, coastal views, piles of laundry in the kitchen, Myrtle and Lady, tea on cold mornings and Dundry school, sweet Mousse, dear kind John and a deep appreciation for what that year has left in my heart.
(backyard bbq in Edmonton with Nick and Andrea)
But, in the end, we came home. And I know that this is where I need to be. This is the place that has nurtured me to who I am. I cannot leave it. And seriously, who can live without Dad's waffles on a Sunday morning and a trip to the pond to go froggin?
Until next time....
beth
beth
Bye bye Moussey! We love you!
They had waterbirds from all over the world and in outdoor settings. I bet you didn't know that flamigos make farting noises! You wouldn't equate England with wildlife, but it does come in many forms. There are actually the basic animals that one might see wandering about at night like the fox, hedgiehogs, squirrels, dead badgers (sadly, I've only ever seen them on roadsides squished). But as far as I can tell, England does a whip-up job of keeping animals in zoos and farms. For example, we went to a donkey sanctuary where retired beach donkeys or mistreated sad ones can go and live a happy peaceful life.
Pooh and Eyeore
thought that they looked like a mom and her puppies. In fact, though, during flood tides, these little rocks produce current sweeps of up to 20 knots. Kayaks meet the challenge...or don't. But, if they do, they are basically world class. In this picture, you can see a type of bird related to a cormorant. He was not trying to look fierce here, but was actually drying his wings as they absorb water so that he can submerge to deep depths to fish.
would be all of us.
