"I've never seen you imitate a pigeon before," said my friend last night as we ate supper.

In fact, I don't think I have ever imitated a pigeon in public before, but yesterday was an exception. I was illustrating the feeling of spring in the air. It was warm - so warm that the pigeons on the roof across from me were interacting in a very spring way. They were dancing.

Today there is not a single pigeon on the roof. Perhaps it is because of another visitor on my tree. Earlier he perched on another branch to finish breakfast - much to my horror and fascination. Now he is sitting there watching the roof. Alas, my windows are the product of a messy winter on a busy street...but I did get one picture. He is a pigeon hawk or Merlin. I'm surprised at how small he is but size is not an issue. Even the crows are flying off cawing in warning.

I am an Aries. I tend to want to herd people...in one direction...the right direction! I become indignant if people don't understand. So I see myself as a border collie...but alas...I have a very brief attention span...there's a bit of the labradoodle in me!

I have always liked Dolly Parton. She is so full of joy and honesty.

I saw her interviewed the other day. She admitted with a smile on her face and one eyebrow cocked that if she found anything dragging, sagging or bagging, she did not hesitate to get it nipped, tucked or sucked!

I suspect she would see this sculpture as stating the obvious.

It was/is my grandmother's birthday today. She was Irish through and through and so it may have mortified her that she was born on Robbie Burns' day! I do think about my uncle. People say I'm like him...despite the fact that he was six-foot-five and I am five-foot-five...He is an unknown to me save for the sadness...he was killed in a tank in Italy on his first tour of duty. I'm sorry that I never asked about his birthday. It would have helped to remember to be able to say: Today is my uncle's birthday.

I know - I promised myself that in January I would start honing down...There's always that question: What if...It started with: What if I had to suddenly move (I'm being euphemistic.) and...who would appreciate my Christmas tree ornaments? I think there might be a fight over my Christmas tree ornaments...But what of the other bits and pieces. I swore to myself that I wouldn't buy anything new save for an e-reader...but what happens if someone gives me another piece of glass? Could I refuse a hand-blown piece of glass? A perfume bottle in the shape of a cat? Of course not! And that e-reader - would that mean that I would stop collecting books? Of course not! If I did that I could no longer make connections between the poetry of my principal and the wonderful book by Sharon Creech called Love that Dog. It opens with: I don't understand the poem about the red wheelbarrow and the white chickens and why so much depends upon them...

That book should be in everybody's library.

This blog is a book mark for me of the past and the present. However, I can't always write what I want to write...not without fictionalizing it to the point where it would no longer be a book mark. Someone sent me a poem which reminded me of two poems of the past.

One I wrote to my principal - the pattern of which was stolen from Leonard Cohen:

The Song of the Chaperone

Come, my brothers
Let us chaperone dances
Let us find our true calling
Let us invade the girls’ washrooms!
Let us demand our rights
Let us become exalted (a reduced workload in return for our services?)
Let us enter into the spirit of things
Let us drink coffee before, after and during the etceteras
Let us make students chaperone our dances
Let us make them pay for the privilege (Mantovani during the coffee breaks?)
Let us demand music composed for our entrance (executive washrooms?) (tiaras and crowns?)
Let us have attendance sheets singed at the door (perhaps robes for long service?) (thrones on the balcony for comfortable viewing?)
Let us illuminate the dark corners of the gym
Let us harass couples for the hell of it
Let us demand tables in order to collect fee (Do black cats count?)
Let us have a white book
Let us fill it with the names of those who behave
Let us harass those who behave
Let us publish their names in the library
Let us chaperone the librarians
Let us demand roller skates (for increased mobility?)
Let us find sanity
Let us think positively.

But my principal's response is an indication of the richness of my teaching experience and the people who were my leaders.

Sonnet to Patricia
(with apologies to W.S.)

Shall I camper thee to a Poet’s muse?
Thou hast perception deeper sure than that.
Transparent though I thought my latest ruse,
Confess more plain I will to please dear Pat.
Our Mary has me beaten that is clear,
Though talks parental I have had so many,
And sifts to schools that lie not very near,
All stratagems were scarcely worth a penny.
I would not claim for burst of inspiration,
An independent study for our sweet.
It was, in fact, an act of desperation,
A hair’s breadth from admission of defeat.
While you and I work helping students pass,
I’ll never claim for gold what’s truly brass.

John Jared

I think these are the eggs of said brown bird in which case she is a rather careless bird. She just dropped them and left. Mind you, that might make her carefree...and she did arrange them in a nice pattern.

In my folder I have defined this bird as"brown bird." The trouble is that it is a brown bird on a brown background...but it deserves some recognition.

I saw a headline in The Globe and Mail: Opening of specialized schools reignites fairness debate - The Globe and Mail. The move has reignited the discussion about whether alternative schools create unequal access to special programs in public education.

And I was reminded of Kurt Vonnegut. I haven't read him in a long time. I should return once I get my ereader. In Sirens of Titan he describes a society so bent on fairness that it handicaps those who are gifted. Thus a talented dancer would have to wear a huge bolder hanging from her neck. Heaven forbid we acknowledge that there are gifts other than those of the athlete. That wouldn't be fair.

We live in a country where parents who enrol their children in athletic programs get tax relief. Children whose talents lie in music or art or the theater are ignored. With budget cutbacks those programs are being eliminated in the public school system.

That's what I say!

Today I am taking down my Christmas tree. Is this a matter of desperate blogging? Does a blog a day replace playing bridge? No - it is a matter of hubris. My tree is a masterpiece. I would like to keep it up all year but that lead to a dusty masterpiece and so, today I begin the dismantling process.
Someone commented that my collection must have cost a fortune. That took me by surprise. I suppose it did...but it was done over fifteen years and so by my logic, it didn't cost me a penny.

The mantle is another matter...

It is time to learn bridge. Some people learn bridge from the time they have learned to read. Their parents need a fourth and...

Some people learn bridge to survive residence and being away from home. When I prepared to go to Edinburgh to take my teachers' training. (How's that for name dropping?) my mother suggested that I learn bridge which surprised me. It turned out that she knew how to play bridge as did my father. I actually never saw them play until the first great ice storm. That was after I had returned from Edinburgh and was in my first year of teaching. The boy from up the street - I never really knew his name- came down and the four of us played bridge around the fireplace.

That was the last time I saw my parents play bridge and it was probably the last time I played bridge until now.

Now I am of an age where it is time to play bridge in order to hold on to brain cells.

There is a group who plays regularly - all retired teachers - an ideal environment because they are willing not only to put up with me but to teach me.

And I have my Bridge for Dummies which I must have picked up somewhere knowing that there would be a time in my life when I wanted to play bridge to hold on to my brain cells.

What I didn't have was a pack of cards to practice with and thus the picture. I went to buy a pack of cards. I picked out what looked like a classic pack of cards with a design I remembered from childhood. Fortunately the man behind the counter realized I was new to this game and pointed out that this pack cost twenty-five dollars and in fact if I were really going to play cards, I would need two packs!

I didn't have the courage to tell him that I doubted I would ever be hosting a bridge game and so I didn't need two packs. I chose the cute kittens packs and inwardly grimaced. I have owned cats since practically that first year of teaching. I have never owned kittens. They terrify me. I get my cats when they have a modicum of decency.

Somewhere along the way I actually read and underlined salient points in Bridge for Dummies. That makes my second reading much easier. I tried to explain the importance of underlining to some new friends - all librarians. I never suggested I would underline a library book...but that didn't matter. They weren't impressed.

The second site was sent to me when I described the following:

We had our first snow storm the other night. A friend and I were driving to book club. I looked up and saw what someone later described as a murder of crows. Three trees and one roof top filled with crows roosting for the night…a most astonishing sight. I’m going back there to see if they are still there…I have to take a picture whether it works or not!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YP9RnDp_tms

And I was reminded once more of Africa. We were returning to our rooms after supper. We sensed a presence and looked up. The trees were filled with little birds…sleeping. They slept so soundly that occasionally one would fall off the branch and flutter.

How long can one get mileage out of having gone to Africa? I went to Africa…seven years ago…as I speak of it, it does seem like yesterday. It would be a bit trite if it didn’t…how often can one make mileage on the fact that one has been to Africa? Even if one was only a tourist.
So two utube sites caught my attention this week and reminded me of Africa - the first about the visit of mountain gorillas to a camp site.
http://www.wimp.com/mountaingorilla/

And that reminded me of one day in Africa. We were in a compound reminiscent of a 1950’s motel with cobbles stones. Our patio windows looked out on fields. I suspect that somewhere there were fences or something. Lions don’t read signs. As I looked out my window I saw a family of baboons making their way across the field. (The more I think about it, the more I wonder how they kept the lions out and let the baboons in! There was no warning sign such as the one at the top of the page.) They came up to the compound and disappeared around the corner. Suddenly there was a scramble and they reappeared, drink cans and snacks in hand! Later one of the travelers admitted that he had opened his window and lay down for a nap. He had woken to see two baboons taking off with his soft drink and snacks. I recorded the outcome.

OK - I confess - no I haven't been to the Galapagos Islands...but my friend has and she just returned and these are the only pictures on my blog that are not mine but I couldn't resist. Besides, I've got to do better this year that 40 out of 365 possible blogs...

And I have to share...I can't just keep them to myself!