Invisible Crust

Dad survived living like a student in a dorm for 2 whole weeks and now he's gone back to chilly Alberta. Boy, did we have fun! With a total of five different pub dinners, we packed in a lot under our belts! Let's see, first it was the Lamplighter, then The Fox and Goose, next The Albion, then The Mitre, then the Lamplighter again, and one other in Avonmouth which only he and Brian went to. I love the names here of the pubs. There are a few up in the village of Shirehampton where we live, one being called The George Inn. I just assumed that all pubs had their own names and that copying a name from another is not allowed. But, one night as we were lost, I said to Bonnie, Oh I know where we are! There's the George Inn. She calmly stated, as she does, Mom, there are George Inns all over the place. She's right...I've seen 4 so far.

It was great having Dad here. I am also bestowing upon him 'The Easiest Person to Get Along With' award. The only thing he complained about during his stay was the dishes. I bet if you look in his window in Red Deer, you will see him hugging all of his appliances, especially his dishwasher. Every time he would go into the kitchen, you could hear him running water and starting to wash up. Hmm..I wonder if this was a hint. But, hey, it's Christmas break and I'm not going to be a servant to dirty dishes! Not that I am ever one during any other time of the year either.

We took a walk up to the suspension bridge which is in an area of big wowee mansions. The people who orginally owned these made their bucks from the sugar, tobacco and slave trade. Outside of one, there was a delivery truck which catered the following meats to those who can afford it and those who are freaky enough to want it. I did a little searching and found out that a blesbok is this lovely creature to the left and to the right is an eland. Ok, I admit that I'm a cow/chicken eating freak, but these are beautiful African beasts that roam the plains. And not to mention one of these tasty morsels below! I think I'll stick to fish and chips at the pub.

We took Dad to the SS Great Britain, a giant iron ship built by Brunel, the same engineer of the Suspension Bridge. This was an interesting place and we enjoyed reading and walking through the interactive displays.

Because it was a week day, we were basically the only ones wandering about. It led to some great discoveries because you could actually go down into the ship and it has been restored to its original capacity. Emma and Bonnie found this a bit creepy though because around every little corner, there would be these dusty wax sculptures laying in cabin bunks, first class finery and third class passengers fighting in the corridors. All this, plus the sound of rain pounding down on the ship. The intriguing thing that we noticed though, was that the displays emitted a smell which accompanied the scenes portrayed. For example, you'd walk past the grand kitchen, and it smelled of stew, the pantry smelled of fish and crackers, and one cabin with a wax figure vomiting into a bedpan smelled of well, you can guess this one. Seriously!! Talking about appealing (or appalling) to your senses! This ship travelled over 1 million miles and eventually was purposely sunk in the Falkland Islands. Under water for 20 some years and then brought to the surface and pontooned back to Bristol in the 1970s. It is definitely worth seeing if you are ever in town.

All the villages have a high street, where all of the shops and services are. Dad became quite good at venturing out into the village, stopping on the way to give Myrt and Lady a carrot and apple. Needing a little peace and quiet, I sent Dad and the girls up to the village to pick up the turkey that I had ordered for Christmas dinner. Well, the line for picking up turkeys, geese, duck, hams and heavens knows what else, went out the store and down the street. I told Dad to ask for the 10 lb turkey under my name. Now, Helen warned us about this. She said that before Christmas, people here go into 'I have to get everything I need for Christmas Dinner' frenzy and become super-powered. So, there's Dad and the girls, in this line up. And if you know my dad, he's the most laid back person in the world. Well, it's finally his turn, and he gives the butcher my name, Beth Cooke. But alas, I had ordered it under McCormick. So, the butcher has to go allllllll the way to the cooling truck, 2 blocks away to find our turkey, only to return yelling that it is not there. Bonnie finally perks up and says, Oh, it's under McCormick, as she was with me the day we ordered. Well, I'm surprised that Dad didn't become a Turkey dinner as the butcher says not so politely, Do you want to come with me and see how bloody far I have to walk to find your turkey!? So, Dad goes and helps him find it. All said and done, I made my first official turkey and after Dad plucked out the leftover feathers (EEEWWWWW!!), we cooked that turkey's goose and it wasn't half bad! I think I'll stick to fish and chips at the pub...again.

We did some great walks, took him to Woode's cafe and to a Wildlife Photograph Exposition at a museum, and then just spent time having time to do nothing. Very nice!

On Christmas Eve, we went to St. Mary's Church in the village and what a glorious time that was. They had a crib service where all of the little kids dressed up as angels, or any other beings that were so lucky to have been in Bethlehem that night. Carols were sung, children got to go to the alter to be in the service and it was just all round joyful. The vicar, who was dressed as a sheep, got up to announce the arrival of the real life donkeys to the stable and everyone clapped. This scared the hell out of the donkeys and they took off down the street. We did finally catch up to them later outside the church and they were awfully cute.

An escapee donky!

On Christmas day, we crossed the Avon River and went to Pill, a village directly across from Shirehampton. We had a fine walk along the bank admiring all of the rubbish that has been collecting in the mud as the tide was out. I guess that this is to be expected due to the fact that this little village used to be home to a busy ferry transit across to Shire, which in the end became mostly a ferry for Pub crawls. Someone told me that if you missed the last ferry, you'd have to sleep above the pub until morning.


The annual Christmas picture

The boats that end up bottom's up in the mud when the tide is out.

Also, the sick sailors coming in on off the large ships would dock here before the boats would float up the tidal river and into Bristol. They didn't want the germs!

E and B on Christmas morning. Notice the tree behind? They actually come in pots so you can replant them.

Boxing day was quite an adventure! We met up with a family that I teach with in Priddy, in the Mendipp hills. Just the drive alone would have been worth the trip, but we were lucky enough to be sniffed and licked by at least 100 hounds!

We had arrived at an annual hunt. Now, for those of you who are thinking--NOOOO!! Not the poor little foxies!! Yes, I know, they don't actually hunt down foxes anymore, well officially. I'm sad to say that they probably due run into one or two. Instead, they drag a scented sandbag all through the hills first, to leave a foxy scent.
All of the horses and hounds arrive along with a fancy looking set of riders. People all mill about with their own wannabe hounds--a various assortment of retrievers, greyhounds, bassats and even a purse poodle or two. Then, after they chat, pose for pictures, theeeey'rreee OFF! The trumpet blows, the dogs start barking and they trot off for a couple of hours. Brian wasn't smiling when I suggested that we stuff a scented sandbag down his pants and give him a head start! I felt like we were in heart of Jolly Ol' England!

An official doggie pile up!

The Morrison Dancers

Wanna be fox hounds.
After a few more days of fun, food and frolic, we took one last road trip to Shaftsbury, which is south of Bristol. Now, here is a major difference between Canadians and English. Our perception of driving is quite different than most people here, especially in terms of time and distance. When we see 30 miles on a sign, we think, Ahh, that's nothing. When someone here says, Ahh, that's at least 2 hours away, we don't even bat an eye. But, this is the reason. Yes, it's only a nanodistance in our minds, yes, it's only a 2 hour stint, but MAN it takes alot out of a person! If you're not worrying about the turns and tips, you're worrying about the dips and drops, and the guy that comes within an inch of your existance! Now, that's why 30 miles seems like a hell of a distance. When you are used to having a 5 km radius all around you, it can be tricky.

Some worried looking furry bums. I think that they thought the hounds were after them.

Shaftsbury is a beautiful place. Even more so, because we were probably the only tourists there and we could see everything without having to push through crowds. There is a very steep road called Gold Hill, and the whole town seems to be set atop of a steep hill. Lovely, and great shopping place too!

A view of Bathhampton, east of Bath

The Gold Hill

Moms will understand this. The bread here is very good. But, then there's the bread that children all over dream of. A white, fluffy and light bread WITHOUT crusts. Yes, this has been achieved here in England. It's made by Hovis, which seems to be the big UK supplier. Invisible crust white bread. I'll admit, it's damn good. Even the mallard duck and seagulls devour it with a fervor of a hound on a scented trail. This is another thing I shall miss.

So, Dad left safely and returned home. At 1:30 a.m. he called to let me know that he made it safely. I knew he would, and now that he feels confident as an international traveller, he is joining us in Paris in April!!

Happily, the girls each received money for Christmas. We tracked down some speedy scooters and now they can make it to Connie's Corner in a mere 7 minutes! And that includes time for candy decision making! A record so far.

Once again, we had a splendid time with Andrea and Nick and the girls--with the added bonus of meeting Mr. Barnes, Helen's and Nick's father who was visiting from a place near Oxford. When we arrived, we all loaded into the cars, new pseudo-wellies and all for a walk along a beautiful creek that led to a trout fisherie.

Now, this was not your usual cement pond fish factory. NOoo! It is a natural filter stream, with pools and ponds made by artists. And, there are cottage like homes along the creek side. Not only is it home to budding fishies, but it is an art college, thus the beautiful carvings and fountains. The heron perch in trees, watching. We counted 8! And then there were the assortment of ducks, waiting for mouldy Hovis invisible crust bread bits. They actually chased us when we walked on because they knew we still had bread left! Imagine getting chased by a herd? of hungry mallards. I suppose this would have been my dad's dream come true.

Emma and Jessie herding ducks.

Hey, all you Canadians and Americans reading this--LAMB stew kicks butt!! Talk about a dinner from heaven! Funny, because I kept on saying Oh, this is divine! Oh, this is heavenly! And I think I may have gotten on Mr. Barnes' good side as he is a retired vicar! What a lovely gentleman--and I think he may be travelling to Canada with Brian on one of Brian's trips back in May!

We had quite a late night/early morning with a few neighbors to celebrate the new year. Some homemade pizzas, Stella Artois beers and a tin of Cadburys here at our place. Then we wandered down to their house. This is a family whose daughter goes to school with Emma. After playing a few rounds of Wii--nintendo game for those who are as technochallenged as myself, we joined a couple of more families and declared it New Year!

In Edmonton, we kiss, hug, kiss some more, then down a couple of swigs of champagne with some fireworks going off somewhere. That was the scene here too, except that they did something else here that we don't do! As soon as the clock strikes twelve, and before the kissing and drinking, they run up and down the lanes doing this...Quiz question: What did we run up and down the lane doing?

Now I just had a thought. What if this isn't really a tradition, and the Canadian family was just making asses of themselves???! Oh well. We're only here for a year. I can live with the embarrassment.

And, last blog's quiz question was correctly answered by the young man Erik Lamoureux from Emma's class back in Edmonton! He's the lucky winner of yet, another Yorkie bar!

And a very cheery hello to my grandmother and her best friends in Butte Montana--Betty, Winnie and Georgiana!

And lastly, what would it be without an ariel view of dear Mousse sitting in the tub!

Happy New Year everyone!

beth

Wolves in England

Tis the season to be coughing...Hack, hack hack hack....you get it! Apologies to anyone that has been waiting for a new blog. I've been a bit blogged down as of late due to various elements of WHOA!! Brian away, sickness, Christmas preparations and trying to read "The Golden Compass" before we take the girls to the movie. I told them that there will be NO viewing of movies until the books have been read. But, I must say that reading 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' by Truman Capote has been much harder than what I expected. I have actually seen the movie and the girls and I tried to rent it from the Bristol library, but instead of bringing up the movie from the vaults, they brought us up a very old edition of the book stating that this is the LAST copy available as the others have gone missing. Well, we couldn't very well say that we just wanted the DVD, so I feel that it is my obligatory obligation to read it.

So, on to life as we live it here. E and B and I have a new favorite cafe. It's called 'Woodes' and it is by the Bristol Library. After our second outing there, we awarded it the place that we most wanted to 'hang' out. It's an eclectic group of people who do 'hang' there. University second-hand shop students, those who used to be University second-hand shop students but now have money, and parents of those above mentioned. Funny, because we fit into no known catagory--mom, sometimes dad, and two kids who dress in frou-frou on the weekend because they can't dress that way during the week! What at beautiful feeling it is to be a mom and say to the girls, 'Wear whatever you please because during the week you're in uniform!' I swear that they come up with the most interesting outfits! No wonder we fit into Woodes cafe on Park Street. But, as routine would have it, we always sit under the stairs. Yes, there are nice, functional tables elsewhere, but the girls have chosen this as our spot. I don't think Grandpa is going to like sitting there when we take him!

Here is a frosty morning scene from our front door. We definitely do not miss the sub-zero temperatures of home!

Now, I bet you are wondering about the wolves. Well, 251 years ago, the last wolf was killed in England. How do I know this, you ask? As Brian left, my attentions turned to things that were perhaps overlooked when he is here. One, being the Shirehampton Weekly newspaper that is delivered well, somewhat weekly.

I was peruseing this fine publication when I noticed that the Cotswold Community Centre was holding a 'talk' for the community members about wolves. Hmm... I thought to myself. What could wolves be doing here in England that would arouse so much interest?

A Friday night, a community hall up on Dursley Road, with room for 30 and me dragging the girls for the mere cost of 2 quid. (I think that is how you spell that). Mostly the girls were digging in their heals. They would have preferred a Blockbuster and a pot of Cadbury's chocolate to eat. You can imagine the scene. I had to bribe them as they would be serving sweets and tea.

We paid and walked into the building. We've learned to keep our voices down so as to not draw attention. I have noticed that people here automatically label you as an American when you speak. Uh, excuse me, we're Canadian. Just as we say, 'Oh, you're from Great Britian'! What is it like there?' It's the same as them saying they've seen the Golden Gate Bridge! Yea, same continent, different country folks.

Somehow, someone heard us speak. Suddenly this lovely woman wearing turqoise silver jewlery and demin (dead giveaway--no one wears demin here!), turns to us and says, 'You must be American! Have you ever seen wolves?'

I reply, yes, we have in Yellowstone National Park, and also in Alberta Canada where we are from. She stops me dead in my tracks--literally puts her hand out and holds me there. 'Oh, Ian will be so amazed that someone from America is here! And you have seen wolves!'

Turns out Ian McCarthy is a BBC reported/film maker/researcher for the show BBC Natural World and this is is wife.

Ian shows up through the throngs of 20 or so people, to sit with us in the front row. He's very down to earth. He and his 3 legged dog, Dubo. We have a nice chat and it turns out that he and his lovely wife Anne have lived in 9-mile Valley for 6 weeks filming a wolf family on Andie MacDowel's ranch. These wolf pups were orphaned, and introduced to this wolf family on the ranch. I guess, by the sounds of it, they are all quite happy now. I ask where this ranch is and find out that it is just outside of Frenchtown where my Uncle Frank was running a parish.
It was very interesting to hear about wolves from his perspective. He compared them to normal every day dogs and explained how all dogs have come from the wolf family. But, he says, as our modern day pooches only have one or two characteristics that generally are sought out as a breed trait, like tracking, or herding, or eating...wolves have all traits. That is why humans are generally afraid of them. Ian even tracked wolves through the chilly Artic on Ellesmere Island. He said that out of two pups per season, usually only one lives, that is if they are lucky. We learned so much from him and his wife! The films that he showed were fascinating, even to us Americans who don't think about wolves too much. Finally, he said that people were talking about maybe reintroducing wolves to England. Hmm... with a 500km territory, I think that could be quite challenging here with the 50 million people populating this land!

These are some of our friends at the Gordano Horse Riding Centre where Bonnie takes lessons. Above, is Mr. Tibbs, aka Georgie, then there's Emma with the deaf dog who sign reads, and here's Dad's favorite, a horse that is a mirror image of Grover Cleveland. This is no lie! Horses here have moustaches!

So, in the last few weeks, we been enjoying the Christmas rush--an added element of craziness when you have school functions to add on to it! We had our Dundry concert--little infants dressed up as pigs and cows. Now, I know what you're thinking--INFANTS?!! Don't worry, that is what they call the 4 year old foundation stage children. I laughed when I heard this term as Jenny, the headmaster stated that we needed to figure out how to get all of the infants to the hall for the practice! I guess you'd be a baby when your 10 years old here, and then that would make me a mere teenager!!

Anyway, the concert was one to melt even the dampest of hearts. And then, my class trouped up to the Colston Hall, to sing in a choir of about 200 other students. This was very exciting as we got to sit up behind the stage. But, this was also very worrysome as a few of the boys in my class started to have a strop with a group of similar aged boys in front of them from another school. Once again, football enthusiasm ensued. When the 300 or so people weren't focusing on the choir, a few choice words were being passed to and fro. It's hard as a teacher to talk through clenched teeth, smiling and asking, 'Did you really just tell that child in front of you to do what I think you said?' The reply is the same, and always genuine, 'Sorry Miss, but he told me to...' SHHH!! We'll talk later!' Not much you can do when Frosty the Snowman starts up.


A happy performing group of Colston hall singers! Emma is in the back row as she had to accompany us as an imposter!

In Bath, there is a Christmas Market that attracts people from all over. In fact, so many people show up that it is virtually impossible to get into any of the stalls. We gave up quickly and decided to go on the merry-go round. I've always wanted to ride on a chicken!

My dad arrived safely last weekend with Brian. As Jenny told us to plan something fun for the last day of school, I organized a class wide science olypmics. Now, most of the time, this can be quite engaging, but I should have realized sooner that mayhem and madness were lurking around the corner. Thankfully, my dad wanted to visit Dundry and came up to help out. My beloved Belinda, our classroom teacher's assistant, ended up being out poorly--aka. sick day, and so Dad and I started the first event which was building towers out of uncooked spaghetti and marshmallows. Now, had someone kindly told me that marshmallows were more marshy than mallowy here, I would have been forever grateful. Well, ooo and goo everywhere. Kids with noodles stuck to everything they touched and sad little towers of 3-5 cm. Plus, enough noise to shake the earth.
I'm officially awarding Dad the trooper of the year award!

Here is the path that we walk to the Hall from Dundry School. We went up to the hall for the concert and also to have our PE classes. The other funnyy thing about the hall is that for every event they serve beer. I like this idea, but can't imagine what the St. Paul crowd at Emma and Bonnie's school would be like if beer were served at the Family Dance in February. Could become a football match!


Dundry Church and Dad in Dundry playground with E and B. It was actually a clear-ish day and he wanted to see the view from the school. It's an amazing view of Bristol.

I finally figured out Bristol's roads and streets! I am so happy to have discovered this! Imagine that you take a bucket of liquid roads, and pour it over hills. It runs every which way, this and that, ending at the bottom. That is the map of Bristol! Last Wednesday, as I was rather tired, I suggested to my dad and Brian that they take Emma to her violin lesson. It's a bit challenging, but with the satellite navigator, it can be accomplished with patience and great skill. So, Brian agrees, but then tells me that he gave the Sat. Nav. back to Darren. Oh my GOD!! That's it! We're housebound for the next 8 months!

Well, I figure out a nice little map and send them off. Two hours later, they call. We're lost and we're coming home. Now, I've heard this before so I brace myself. They get home an hour after that, and without words, walk in the door. Even Dad was speechless. All he could say was, Where's the brandy?

I'm happy to say the Ben's lovely partner Helen has left for Canada today. I can't imagine being all alone for 4 months, even with many people inviting you over for dinner and rodeos! The reason is, that you need someone to articulate your true feelings, frustrations and discoveries with. It's kind of a shitty thing to go to your neighbor and say, Damn, don't they sell bigger bags of flour here?

But, Ben and I, having each survived our first term, did do somewhat of a review for each other. My biggest challenges were classroom management and having the chills. I know that next term I will be more prepared. I'm buying some real wool sweaters, and I plan to adopt yet another installation of 'Boot camp' mentality at school with my voice hopefully holding up a bit longer than 3 days.

I have to say though, that this is an amazing experience. Unlike anything I've ever done and for so many reasons. Especially due to the fact that there is absolutely NO LIMIT to Cadbury's chocolate and that I finally saw my first fox.

Now, we're relaxing with our little potted Christmas tree, lovely Mousse, a balmy 8 degrees and dreaming of a white Christmas! Well, at least all of the seagulls are white!

And Brian WILL eat the brussel sprouts that I'm making for Christmas dinner.

Merry Christmas to you all!

beth

p.s. Markos won the 'stripping the willow' contest! Yes, it is a Celtic folk dance! Now, here's this week's quiz question: What is a Christingle?

Myrtle says Merry Christmas too!