Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Global Swarming and Climate Ka-ching Change

Honestly, I feel like such a bogus teacher for presenting this Social Studies b.s. Woah! Strong language there girly! Settle down! Well, I'm frustrated. This is going to be a short blog. All I have to say is this: How can we expect students to develop real critical thinking skills when we teach them THEORIES as FACT?
Obviously it has been a mess for decades with evolution (how many times have my textbooks used the words "evolving" or "evolved" when change would have been the appropriate word? Conditioning. Get used to the word, and you won't question it. The sly dogs.) And CO2 as a pollutant? W.U.W.T.?? I breathe the stuff out many times a minute. Am I a dangerous "GHG Emitter"? as my grade 9 textbook sneers in its cartoon headline? How much am I using my toaster?
Don't assume I am a careless, redneck Albertan who doesn't care about the environment and the fresh, wonderful, blooming natural world. Cuz maybe I am, and maybe I'm not!! (I'm not... entirely...) Tis a fine line, dear 'reader'. The problem here is that the Alberta education system has allowed the climate change alarmists free reign with curriculum. There is not another perspective presented, not with this issue. And yet the writers posture, set it up so correctly, that it feels wrong to even question the scientific validity of the "extensive and mostly negative impacts around the globe" my breathing in and out is causing.
Have a nice day, and say hi to Big Brother if you see him. Just don't let him see you driving to work when you probably could have biked. And for goodness sake take the mini Cooper, not the other thing.

Monday, May 30, 2011

Post-Wedding Relief

Hi, all my friends. Ha ha ha!! ... yeah.
So, I was the emcee, and I survived :)
My brother was calm, thoughtful and wonderful, and his new bride -- beautiful, fun, and relaxed. Her DRESS!! Antique lace, creamy and gauzy and perfect. Her colors were a soft downy green and a silvery grey, tying in the surrounding tall firs, pines, the stones and glint of light off the lake. A serene setting. And I have been there before! When my daughter was just a little thing we stayed with Dylan's parents at Silver Lake Lodge. Why couldn't I remember that while we were there? It hit Dylan suddenly the next day, driving home. It was about 9 years ago; I suppose that has a bit to do with my lapsed memory.

I learned from my husband that my whole face and attitude changes when I am under stress. He was happy when the reception was over too... it was possible to live with me again. I didn't realize I was so toxic.

How does a girl stop worrying? Yes, it did help to pray, and know others were praying, and doing what I could to be prepared. I imagined being back in Italy (where I had nothing to do but enjoy) and seriously, that helped! Gave my brain a rest, I guess. If it is wrong to worry, and anxiety takes a toll on me and everyone around me, then how to stop? What do you suggest, Oh great non-readers? (Laugh) If there is no risk, no decision, no fun, no effort, then no worry, right? If you sit at home eating bon bons and reading all day, no worries, right? Huh. The key is probably balance. Yeah I know, sounds like a self-help book and SO BORING!! Blah blah balance. No? Balance is beautiful, you say. Ah, yes it is truly. Right proportions are always beautiful. .... UM... REALLY... think about it. Do you know someone lovely who isn't perfectly proportioned, face and body? You see what I'm talking about. The most amazing, glorious sunset you've ever seen might have been all orange and sun, not balanced very well at all. Adrian Brody has an enormous nose, really he does, and he's very easy on the eyes. Maybe the best days of our lives are those unbalanced ones, where we wasted an inordinate amount of time putting a hammock together and only got 5 minutes to be in it. Not to knock balance entirely. I still love it, I do aspire to it. Not many kids will sit long on a broken teeter-totter at the park, after all.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Rainy Monday




This is a good Rainy Monday colour. Blue with a hint of grey.
So it seems, it seems (think Hamlet), 
that I forgot I had a blog... again. Well I was only writing for practice, and for escape, not for posterity. Which is a good thing, Martha, because no one knows I'm here anyway!
I wonder how long I could blog under the radar?
After keeping journals for years I finally type much faster than I write and think in type better than in ink.

May 22 today, a holiday. It is tough to concentrate with an untidy house, looming school deadlines, and my brother's wedding on Saturday.... I'm the MC. I'm about to have a nervous breakdown.
Satisfaction in life is directly proportional to one's expectations. As I learn to expect less, I feel more content in the everyday. I didn't expect to relax, have fun, or get away this May long weekend. I have a million and one things pending. Therefore, each moment of relaxation, a cup of coffee uninterrupted, sitting with the kids on the couch or sleeping in seem like boons of benevolence. Like Keegan's Shirley Temple at East Side Mario's last night... a red, blue, and orange cherry on a glass stick complete with a cloud of pink cotton candy!! Unprecedented riches!! Next time, when he expects it, the colorful wand will be mildly enjoyable. Perhaps the cotton candy cloud won't be as large. A slight frown, a feeling of disappointment.

Disappointment that is expected is merely normalcy. A childhood without disappointment sends perfectly sane adults to mental institutions. Actually, I am quite sure cynicism is the cure for all ills. OK, maybe not all. Complacent skepticism disguised here as serious thought will solve a few problems as well, by tucking them nicely away from view. Just sliiiide it over, gently, behind the hedge there.

A fully engaged life is one that deals with complexities, that never shuts the door and sits demurely with a dime novel. An engaged life must draw strength from God, working with Him, talking with Him. Accepting the disappointments and opening to each blessing with wonder and joy. It is tempting to shut down, to blank out, to shift the view to what you want to see and the blame to someone, anyone. Some rainy Mondays can only come one drop at a time, one foot in front of the other. One load of laundry, one rosebush pruned, one assignment graded. Perhaps in living fully, engaged in the moment, there will be no time to gaze with a cynical eye. What is required? To act justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with God.