Why I Love Supply Teaching

I came in today and was given a box of bones along with the day's schedule. No, I'm not the school's fill-in forensic analyst, I'm just administering an anatomy test. But it's still awesome.

Last Day

It's my last day in Shrewsbury, and I'm going home with mixed feelings. I'll be glad to get back to regular (if something I've only been doing for three months can be 'regular') life, but I've enjoyed my hiatus from cooking/supply teaching/doing work all the time . And yes, I know my busy-ness is self-imposed for the most part, but that doesn't mean it isn't nice to have a vacation. I'll miss Gran a lot, but I've finally lost my naivete and realized why the rest of the family interact with her carefully, if not with downright suspicion. She can be exceedingly loving and generous and interesting, but she can also be mean and vindictive and snappy. I'm more than ever glad I'm on her good side, and (for perhaps the first time) glad that I live too far away to do more than send her regular letters.

Having a worldwide family's a strange thing, since it means that you can be on quite close terms with people you've only met 4 or 5 (or less) times in your life. But there's a lot to be said for genes, since I've found remarkable similarities between myself and people who are (for all intents and purposes) strangers. Lovely, engaging, fascinating strangers, though.

...

PS -- in the continuing tradition of addendums to my England posts, let me mention that anyone wondering as to why there's an obesity epidemic in the UK need look no farther than the fish and 'small' chips I ate last night, which consituted a package larger than my head.

Lots of Fancy Piles of Stones

Back in Shrewsbury now, looking at the Abbey where Cadfael did his gardening. Not much of that abbey is left, after Henry VII closed most of it off and bribed the abbott to let it become a Church of England abbey, and after the brilliant engineer Telford decided to run a major road right through the grounds, leaving a pulpit standing rather forlornly in the middle of a garden on the opposite side of the road from the church. Progress is a funny thing.

Not much exciting news to tell, really. The rest of my visit with Nick was quite good -- the stunning Exeter Cathedral in miserable rainy conditions, delicious warming soup suitably cheaply priced for university students, wandering by the house where my father was born, a couple of good pints at a local pub, and the compelling vulgarity of tv chef Gordon Ramsay. Back in Shrewsbury, the days with Gran have a certain slow, assured sameness about them, and I'm tempering my conversations with her with exploring and lots of reading. Feeling mentally healthy because I'm reading more and watching less tv, and physically somewhat pudgy because of all the English stodge and desserts I've been eating. But with all the walking it should even out eventually, I guess.

PS -- another wondrous discovery -- squash! No, not the vegetable -- a kind of sugary drink made with a modicum of juice. A little bit of apple and blackcurrent squash in boiling water is a heavenly hot drink. I'll definately be bringing some home with me.

Exeter St. Davids

Down in Exeter now with my cousin Nick, who hasn't changed significantly in the eight years (or so) since I last saw him. I suppose I haven't changed much either, at least not in terms of basic outlook on life or bone structure (although I've discovered God and him, red wine reduction sauces). We're having properly English weather -- drizzly and cold with periods of breathtaking beauty where the sun breaks through the coulds during a walk and you remember why so many people spent their whole lives painting this country. Haven't done much of note, but I find I don't really want to -- train rides through sheepfields while eating Walker's crisps, browsing through bizarre little shops filled with postcards from 40 years ago, taking long walks to work off the inevitable 'afters' filled with cream and sugar which Gran presses on me at every opportunity, drinking wine and playing Scrabble with lovely people... these are perhaps not the sort of things everyone wants out of a vacation, but they're just what I want (and need) right now.

Also, for anyone who's interested in period drama, the BBC adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford (with Dame Judy Dench) is superbly hilarious.

Landing on my Feet

Well, I'm now in the absolutely darling little town of Shrewsbury, where my lovely English Gran lives. It's extremely cold by British standards, which means it's crisp and delightful by mine. I've already had three people remark on how odd it is that it hasn't rained yet, eaten salad cream and custard (not at the same time, thankfully) and listened to the BBC. Plus had some lovely conversations with very interesting people -- strangers, old friends, and family.


My flight went by in a flash, thanks to the fruits of being accomadating. The plane was quite full and I had to move seats a few times to allow the few free seats there were to be used by those travelling with small babies (who were, miraculously, silent nearly the whole time). Not only did this move make me the darling of the stewardesses, who kept giving me complimentary headphones and chips and such, I also ended up sitting next to a fascinating English barrister named Michael and we talked nearly the whole flight. His wife lives in Oakville and he works in England (Preston, specifically) and goes over to Canada for significant chunks of time four times a year. He described it as a 'totally dysfunctional way to do things' but it seemed to be working fairly well. We talked about theology, reasonable accomadation, travel, law, swinging (not swing dancing, actual swinging), Canadian wildlife, how best to watch an airline movie when you don't have earphones, the state of Christianity, and immigration. He was a lovely man, and a 6 hour flight went by in a flash.


This did mean I didn't sleep at all though, and ended up being up for 32 hours straight. I always say that a good conversation is the only thing that will keep me up past my bedtime, and it was proven here. I met my friend Anna (who I knew from Japan) in Manchester Piccadilly Station for a brief chat (and, thrillingly, we saw a scene from Coronation Street being filmed in the train station -- talk about English!). I came closest to falling asleep on the train ride to Shrewsbury, despite the beautiful scenery. But then (after my cabbie getting lost) I got to Gran's house and we chatted animatedly until dinner (although my brain did tend to go into hibernation if I stopped doing anything for more than 30 seconds), after which I slept like a rock for 11 hours straight and woke up at 9:15 totally adjusted to English time. Not a bad first day, I think!


Here's one of the main streets of downtown Shrewsbury:



I think it's safe to say that my hometown pales in comparison.

Wot wot?

I am going to England for two weeks today. For those of you to whom this comes as a surprise, let me present a number of reasons why you may not have heard of my trip:

1. I didn't really want to mention it because everyone who most of you who read this blog are unable to travel right now due to work/monies issues, and I was trying to minimize jealous reaction since I just got back from Japan and am saving up for school in Vancouver and still get an all-expenses paid trip to England (like Paddington, I always seem to land on my feet). Guilt guilt guilt!

2. It didn't feel like a big deal, since the whole reason I'm going (and getting paid for) is because my gran has been awfully sick and she offered to fly me over so she'd get to see me. So it's not so much going to England as it is going to Grandma's house for a couple weeks -- it just so happens that Grandma's house is across a very big pond. Luckily she's feeling better now though -- I was worried she'd have no energy while I was there, and spend the whole time worrying that she was boring me stiff (which she couldn't do, really, since I'm taking a lot of schoolwork with me and she's a hilarious lady).

3. I am a forgetful person, especially when it comes to telling people about things that have been in the works for a while.

Anyways, I'm all packed (my carry-on alone is a tetris-like triumph) and am looking forward to seeing various relations and perhaps some pretty churches. Also, hilarious towns like 'Little Piddleston' would be appreciated.

A Burst of Optimism From a Tired Brain

One of the perks (well, perhaps the only perk) to waking up at 5:40 am to get to work is that you get to see the early morning weather. I like seeing the sunrise, even if most of me still wishes I was curled up under the covers. But today was better than most -- an early snowfall carpeted everything. After far too long, I had the intense pleasure of seeing every shrub and twig and leaf dignified by the sparkling white of snow. Even though the excitement soon faded into grey slush and a slow commute, it was still worth the early morning.

It's good to be home.

A Very Happy Halloween

I had a very good all-hallow's eve last night. So good, in fact, that I had to write myself notes about it last night before collapsing into bed. So, in expanded form, here are some of the reasons why I had a good night:

1. The Costume: Thanks to an awesome idea by Gillian, and excellent common-sense execution by Katie, I was the Paperbag Princess. Which basically involved a large heavy-duty leaf bag turned inside out (with head- and arm-holes and a fashionable fringe) and a paper crown. However, this costume struck such a cord with people of a specific demographic (18-50 Anglo-Saxons, mostly) that I was treated to everyone from old businessmen to tarted-up university girls yelling "the Paperbag Princess!" at me in tones of sheer delight. And of course there was Biku turning to me every five minutes and saying "that costume is so awesome," which goes a long way to dispelling the shame one feels riding the subway in a giant square paper bag. Biku looked pretty awesome herself, with dramatic black lips, white makeup, and a fabulous hand-made (by her!) black-and-white dress making her a silent movie star. Vamping and taking pictures while waiting for the subway was a lot of fun. The best, though, was one woman yelling at me while we were trick-or-treating "Ron is a bum -- don't marry him!" At that point I decided I loved my costume so much I may just have to reprise it another year. Also, it turns out wearing a big shapeless bag all over downtown toronto is actually pretty good for your self-esteem...

2. Rent-a-nephews: I may not have anyone properly hallowe'en aged in my family, but Biku's got several nephews that we got to tag along with on their first proper stint of trick-or-treating. Daniel, adorable in a wee gorilla suit, had difficulty grasping all the various parts of trick-or-treating with his still-wee brain. He managed to hold the bag upright, get up and down the stairs of various porches, say trick-or-treat, get a candy, say 'thank you', walk down the stairs, explain to various other people that he was a gorilla (not just a monkey) and move on to the next house -- just not all at the same time. Pokey (who has a real name, but it's not nearly so cute) had a blast in his cow suit strapped to his mother's chest, his tiny legs kicking like he was going to propel the both of them forward into a marathon. There were other babies around, Edward (who tested his poor father by a continuous stream of questions about what demons are and where do they come from and what do they eat), as well as a couple of Danish children out with their father for their first trick-or-treating experience. At this point my wee book version of the paperbag princess came in handy as I explained a bit of Canadian literary culture to the Danish father and his daughters. A quick stop off at Tina's house to exact Auntie tax and plunder their candy bowl, and we were off to our next engagement.

3. Do the Monster Mash: Swing dancing (which is regularly on Wednesdays) happened to coincide with Hallowe'en, so there was an extra-special bash with baked goods and special dances. We saw the end of the lesson on how to dance the Monster Mash, saw some truly awesome costumes (two people as Battlestar Galactica officers, Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a male belly dancer having way too much fun with his hip bangles, and Rosie the Riveter), donced, took some smoldering pictures in the courtyard, danced some more, and ate candy and vegan cupcakes. Oh, and I, after some prompting from Biku, finally found Waldo in the crowd. After a few months of playing polkaroo, Joel and I finally managed to get to a swing event at the same time and got to dance together, which was fun, if crinkly (my costume was perhaps not the best for dancing in). I took it off in time for a Jack-and-Jill dance, in which we were all paired up for a scary dance off. I happened to line up with a guy I'd never met before, and after we minced hand-in-hand theatrically down the middle of the room we took a few seconds to introduce ourselves. I think his name was David. In any case, we had great fun doing basic swing moves while grimacing and growling, zombie-style. We got to the second round of competition and bumped it up a notch by adding occasional dipping/vampire biting to our routine, as well as a finishing move which involved me miming ripping his still-beating heart out of his chest. We were unanimously judged as the winners, but the prizes (pink afro wig and bag of candies) weren't nearly as fun as biting a complete stranger's shoulder on the dance floor and then having him yell "Rip my heart out!" as he twirled me. That's why I love swing... ;) After that it was just a matter of dancing to the Monster Mash, Pinky and the Brain, and Thriller, and then fleeing before we got sucked into putting away all the sound equipment.

It was a loooong day (I'd been up at 5:40 am to supply teach), but definately worth it. Best Hallowe'en Ever.

[PS -- I'll post some of the fabulous pictures eventually, but Biku's computer is currently overrun by viruses so that's not a good idea right now. That's the project for today, I think.]