The Joys of Summer

The town is awash with tree planters. They are renting all the available rooms at the hotels, at the cabins on Gun Lake and here in Gold Bridge. I hear they are staying for six weeks. Not a bad start to the summer tourist season. I wonder where they hang out in the evenings. Finally some fresh young faces around :)

Mountain biking was awesome! A friend took me on a great trail, just the right ability for me. A good 40 minute climb, and then a sweet sweeping ride down the hill in the trees.

My friend and his dog.

The biking was followed by a par three golf game at Gold Bridge's lovely golf course, where we saw one of my students who just got a new golf cart to drive around town. She offered to caddy us around the course and clapped at all of our best shots. It's always nice to see the students outside of school. I did pretty well actually, shooting lots of fours. Not bad for the first game of the season!

Then we participated in a third sport: extreme swinging.

Horseback riding on Sunday with Barry was also eventful. I almost got bucked off, but managed to regain control of the animal who was spooked at walking through swampy water and sinking in to his knees while the rest of the pack of horses went along ahead of him. At least it would have been a soft landing.

I was helping Barry move nine of his herd down to a grazing spot by the river. The horses were all "hot" meaning it was their first trip of the year and they were all feeling a little frisky and spirited. The tiny chestnut mule, full of sass, went bucking and galloping between mouthfuls of the lush new grass by the side of the highway, and my horse was at times difficult to hold back. After turning him in frequent tight circles he finally realized that if he went faster than I wanted without me asking, he was going to have to turn around again. He hasn't been ridden much, but I am feeling really confident in the saddle after the spooks he has had recently. It's all about being ready for anything, and then not hesitating to use the emergency stop when things start to get hairy.

He's a gorgeous horse, though, and we make quite a team.

He looks a little grumpy but I think his ears are back because I'm taking to him.

This week it's back to full steam ahead with student-led learning conversations (kind of like parent teacher interviews, but the kids are supposed to do a lot of the talking and show their parents their work). It's a good time to look at what we have accomplished throughout the year and to get kids doing some self-reflections on their work and work habits.

Over the last four weeks we have been driving into Lillooet for swimming lessons in the morning, and then in the afternoons we have been spending some time with the Lillooet Naturalist Society learning about invasive and native plants in the area. We also learned about the river ecosystem and the salmon spawning channel. The kids (and their teacher) are so much more engaged in activities outside of the classroom. Like today, when they were so full of beans, we went "tracking deer" through the bush for an hour. They are quite the little off-trail travellers, and when we got back we were relaxed and ready to carry on with the day. Sometimes you just have to make a new plan :)

Liam and Tenyse under what Liam calls "nature's shower"--a waterfall by the side of the road that carves a straight white line like a stripe down the mountainside. It ends as pictured, as a spray of mist after a one-hundred foot plummet off of the final cliff before hitting the ground.

Home

To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra

Home Again - Michael Kiwanuka

Good way to end a day and start a morning. Just on my way out for the first mountain bike ride of the season, and then for some par three golf at the Gold Bridge golf course :)

Lots of walking, lots of thinking, lots of listening to the quiet sound of the river, watching the birds bathe in the little pond in my back yard.

wind

rustles
      leaves

sends
      ocean through trees

pulls
      thoughts from my tangled hair

becomes
      only the thing
      that is there

Jawbones

This week I have been walking a lot. Every day, for hours. I pick up Sanford at his place and we just go. Spring is here on the ground as new plants push up past the skeletons of last year’s growth. Birds are out, butterflies are back from their migration, arrows of geese make their way over town to land in the marshy grass of Carpenter Lake. And a small woman walks among it all.

Walking through a field full of pussy willow bushes... can't say I've ever done that before!

Goose explosion!

Darin and I broke up early this week. He lives in Oregon, and the distance became too much for me, all of a sudden like a thunderstorm breaking across the highway, and no matter how slow I drove, the windshield wipers just couldn’t keep the rain from blurring the road in front of me. It is hard, and I am alone again here, but that is okay. I was alone here most of the time anyway, but now it is without his steady friendship.

I have been walking and thinking, and I have also been finding jawbones on my walks. Last weekend it was the jawbone of a deer I found nestled into a pile of fur from the animal’s body. Not a shard of bone visible but this piece of jaw, teeth still in. No skin, no other splinters of white. A few hundred meters later and there was another puddle of deer hair, barren except for the hair, a few hundred yards more, another. Sanford and I have been finding piles of hair, explosions of feathers, and the odd hipbone scattered around the bush. It makes me realize just how much killing goes on in the periphery of our warm winter homes, how many animals die slowly in the night without us knowing.

On Wednesday Sanford and I walked to a new spot, a piece of grassy plain beside the river, just off of highway 40. Only two cars passed us on the 2-kilometer walk to and from the piece of road that would take us to the river’s edge. I have realized that I can walk along the highway easily here without being disturbed much.

We meandered through the pussy willow bushes that are just starting to bud, following horse tracks left over from the fall. We found some piles of bird feathers, and in the middle of the trail another piece of jawbone, this time belonging to what was an elderly horse. I searched around for more remnants of bone to no avail, but there are lots of roots pushing up through the grass, bleached by the sun, that look like ribs from a distance.

Meandering...

Found a big green rock while bush-wacking.

Today's walk in a misty rain. It hardly ever rains here, and as a North Van girl I have been missing walking in it.

I got out horseback riding with Barrie yesterday after a lovely Friday night dinner with Ken and Shirley. They are so good to me, and live right down the road from Barrie so I thought I could have a little night away from my vacant home. Barrie's got some young horses that I’m going to help him get ready for a trip out in the mountains over the summer. I rode a young Appaloosa yesterday, but Barrie couldn’t remember the name of the horse (he does have 14 after all). The horse was a little frisky but did very well considering that we traipsed through the thick bush for part of the ride. It was fun and I am feeling very confident and solid in the saddle. I’m hoping to go along for the ride this summer but at this point I’m going to concentrate on getting through the next couple of months of work first. I think this week is going to be another one for walking. I’ll write when I can.

Barrie and the horse I rode. 

School Blog

I'm back at it, buzzing with intensity and enthusiasm for all the new projects in my life. Still a bit phlegmy from my fourth and hopefully final sickness, but that's never been enough to stop me. I tend to feel this way in the spring, renewed, like a perennial plant taking leaf and extricating myself from the winter debris, growing up over the dropped brown shell of myself, the dead skeleton of leaves from last year. My roots are the same, but my fresh leaves are stronger after the winter underground.

Two of my students admiring the view at a pit stop on the drive into Lillooet.

A voice mail from my mother reminded me that I have shared little about my actual teaching experiences on this blog. "I thought I would meddle a little," she said in minute two of her exaggeratedly long message, "because people really love your blog but you don't really tell us about how your teaching is going." Right-o Mom. Got it.

I suppose I've kept my teaching practice off the blogging grid because I have felt like I am floundering around just trying to find my footing all year. Actually I have felt like I have been drowning in a sea angry with storm. Luckily people have periodically thrown my buoys here and there, just enough to keep me afloat, thank goodness, and here I still am, treading water! Apparently this somewhat violent, anxiety-producing  experience is normal for the first few years, until you either start to feel more comfortable with wobbling on sea legs all the time, or you give up the profession altogether. Teaching has one of the highest drop-out rates of any profession, and I can see why; it's a tough job, and even if you work yourself to the bone there is always more to do. According to this guy, the teacher attrition rate in the first few years can be as high as 40 %. That means 4 out of 10 new teachers look for work outside of teaching before they finish their first few years on the job. That's because it's hard not to take on the world with this job, but slowly I am finding a balance and am starting to enjoy the swim.

Yes, at times I have felt encased in a pressure cooker out here, perhaps especially out here where I am on my own in the school doing a job that is new while also trying to adapt the activities for four different grade levels. But, I have survived, and with spring and fresh warm weather I am super excited for the time that I have left at this job.

We are up to five students now: one grade 2, a grade 5 and a grade 6, and two grade 7s. Life is good, because they are finishing off their social studies unit where they researched countries relating to the learning outcomes required for their respective grades, and on April 25 we will host an international luncheon for the community with dishes made by the kids representing fare from the countries they have researched. Then in the afternoon we will be dazzled by their brilliant PowerPoint presentations, complete with custom animations and eye-popping visual effects (but not too many though, because they don't want to distract their audience from their eloquently witty and intelligent remarks, of course).

Finishing off one unit means we get to start another: science, a unit on local ecosystems and habitat preservation. YAY!!!!! My favourite stuff! On Thursday afternoons from now until the first week in May we head into Lillooet for morning swimming lessons, and in the afternoons we are working on an outdoor education program with members of the Lillooet Naturalist Society. This week we learned about spawning habitat and aquatic insects. Super cool stuff!

 A preschooler getting a good look at a bug.

 A big, juicy mayfly.

A Coho fry.

 And, if you were one of the lucky ones who actually read all the way to the end of this blog, I am happy to announce that I FINALLY created a blog for my school. Look for the link on the right hand side of this blog page, or click here to be redirected to it. Exciting stuff :) On Monday I'm going to get the kids to create their own blog which they will update and maintain with my supervision, but this one I created today is to inform families and anyone who is interested in hearing what we are up to. 

I've been working in the school all day so now it's time to get outside and start cleaning up my yard now that the snow has passed.

Weekend on the Couch

Okay. So I went skiing yesterday, which seemed like a must-do at the time: sunny skies, low avalanche risk, good people to go with, feeling a bit better. Turns out that it was just the thing to push my cold into a full-blown flu, and I am now set up on the couch, in Whistler, doped up on DayQuil. I always feel strange about drinking things that are bright orange, like DayQuil, but I am sick and want to feel better, so I shoot the stuff back at the suggested four-hour intervals. Doped. I think it makes me write better.

I have officially started writing a book. What makes it official is that I am telling people. I am writing a book! See? Now you know, and that is as official as it gets until I actually finish it and someone gets to read it. During the Writing for Kids and Young Adults course we had to submit two pieces for writing workshops, and my second piece actually had a character in it who is growing into a very complex and very much alive-in-my-mind kind of young lady. An imaginary life is growing inside my synapses, and the more I write about it, the more real it is becoming. More characters are flooding into the plot as well, which has been quite interesting. I’ll be going along, scratching out a scene or some notes in my journal and then all of a sudden in walks someone else. It’s still a very rough work-in-progress, as these things tend to be for sometimes years, but at the moment I am totally interested and engaged in the process of getting it out onto the page. Please wish me luck. I think I’ll need it! 

Writing. Where it is considered normal to engage in and respond to the lives of make-believe characters and places. Take note, schizophrenics. You now have all the excuse you need. Just tell people you're writing a book.

Being all strung out on cold medicine is great for writing, though. I just write and write without judgment. It’s kind of like the analytical, self-depreciating part of my brain has been lulled off to sleep in a hammock under some Hawaiian palm tree, leaving the fun-loving let’s-write-about-toothless-green-monsters-with-backgammon-addictions-just-because-we-can side of my brain buzzing like a hive full of bees starved for honey. The meadow of wildflowers is right here, and this let’s-tap-every-flower side of my brain and I are out gathering quickly quickly quickly sometimes there is no time for punctuation get it all RIGHT NOW!

And cue next topic: Skiing yesterday off the Duffey Lake Road was amazing. Great fall lines, lovely powder. I seem to ski with groups of older guys, which is great because they bring all their experience traveling in the backcountry along with their knowledge of spots it would take me years to track down on my own. Plus they have great attitudes. No showing off hey look at the cliffs I can huck types to muddle up a good day of skiing ;)

 Up-track

 Looking back.

 At the top. Had to borrow a jacket from Simon because I forgot mine.

 Simon skiing down. My tracks are on the far left.

 The second pitch of skiing.

Portrait of me spilling delicious hot Ribena drink all over my face while trying to pour it into my mouth without contaminating Simon's thermos cup.

Another up track. No wonder I am sick!

On the drive into Lillooet early yesterday morning I saw the sheep in their usual spot. I keep calling them goats but these are big-horned mountain SHEEP. Goats have the long white hair and small horns. Look at how well they blend in!

And a beautiful view.

Now I’m off to write some more. 

Vitamin C

About the eighth vitamin c and zinc tablet grinds its way into my molars leaving a sweet trace of hard candy in the pockets of my teeth that lingers and melts while I type through this post. Another sore throat threatens to turn my weekend plans of a repeat of the Friday horseback ride followed by a Saturday ski-tour combo into bed rest instead. No thank you cold. Please come again.

Darin’s first time on horseback was awesome. He was calm and collected even though he admitted he was nervous. I kept telling him that nerves are healthy when one is about to ride atop a mammoth animal for the first time. Barrie set him up with one of his old trustworthy geldings that needed more motivation to get going than to stop. It was pretty cool to look behind, sometimes far behind, seeing a grinning man on a horse. When I finally decide to settle down somewhere, whenever that may be, it is a dream of mine to have a couple of horses to ride off into the hills with. This necessitates a man who is also keen on riding, or who at least has enough of a healthy respect and appreciation of the task to stay home to look after things while I’m gone :)

Gillie and I. Barrie seems to have a large number of white horses for some reason. That day Barrie, myself and Darin all rode white steeds, although I forget the name of Darin's horse...

Barrie has also got a new roommate to keep him company out on his ranch, a six-week-old Australian Sheppard puppy named Bert. The most adorable little ball of fur ever, and I can already tell little Bert is going to be quite the ranch dog.

 One blue one brown eyed Bert.

After riding, Darin and I stopped by Ken and Shirley’s place who invited us in for a lovely meal, as people do around here when you stop by unannounced (which is what you are expected to do if you happen to be in the area). Score yet another point for small town living!

Saturday brought us backcountry skiing off the Duffey Lake Road with a couple of friends from Lillooet. Best snow I’ve had ALL SEASON!!!!! I was getting face shots of glorious silken powder as it flew up like crystalline dust from my swaying skis. It was honestly as heavenly as I make it sound. YESSSSS! This is what life is about!

Before the ascent. Darin did the pack-a-board and snowshoe combo. Painful way to travel. I remember it well from my first days out in the backcountry. Nothing sells a proper touring set-up faster :)

Darin and I continued on to Whistler after skiing and watched it dump snow all night, knowing we both had to part ways on Sunday morning. Goodbyes are easier when I know it’s only temporary, but they still leave a melancholy stain on the day. Even on the beautifully sunny and clear drive home my mind would wander from the striations of mineral deposits in the barren cliffs jumping ahead to the home I knew would be empty. Back to the solo meals and to tossing and turning without anyone asking if I am okay. I’m a horrible sleeper, by the way. My thinking cap seems to be on at all hours of the night, whether I like it or not.

The drive was beautiful though. Just gorgeous. Something so close to the city yet so void of other people passing through. The two cars that passed me on my way back were both people I knew.

At one point I stopped to take a picture of the sodden stumps pushing up through the sheet of ice of Carpenter Lake and an eagle circled above me floating lower and lower on the warm spring wind, its tail a twitching rudder angling it this way and that. I stood watching it for a long time wondering if it was feeling the kind of joy that I felt while skiing down that powder slope. Nothing in the mind but the now and a smile across the lips. And some yelling. Can eagles smile at the edges of their beaks?

I continued on and the wind sent rocks tumbling down the embankments as I drove past avoiding all that it was possible to while chanting a silent “please don’t hit my car, please don’t hit my car.” A couple of weeks ago one smashed into my headlight as it tumbled down, to my shock and horror, but it didn’t leave a scratch! Go plastic Toyota headlight cover! I can not believe nothing was broken.

At another point a herd of mountain goats stood strewn across the usual sighting location on the highway, and the three that I saw when I stopped the car lead my eye back to the herd of a dozen or so scattered up the hill. They blend in so well if you look away and then look back you have to refocus your gaze in order to see them.

Speaking of gazes and refocusing, I need to focus my gaze on black underside of eyelids to try to get enough rest to fend off the cold. Type to you all soon.