sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: Why Can't I Hear the Angels Sing? Part 1
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2011/10/why-cant-i-hear-angels-sing-part-1.html
Sunday, October 02, 2011. Why Can't I Hear the Angels Sing? Let me tell you a story. I was 14. I had rejected God. I danced, 7 classes a week. I played piano and flute and was beginning to feel the tug of the guitar. I had recently fallen in love with Dylan, Donovan and folk rock. I was starting to write. I had a tenuous relationship with my parents. Dad brought home a rent-to-buy Hammond L100 with a built in Leslie. Man, that thing was sweet! When we returned home, the organ was gone. The Bay had fo...
sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: Grammar
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2015/07/grammar.html
Wednesday, July 01, 2015. July 1, 2015. The little girl next door doesn’t look very happy. When we wish her “Happy Summer! Sorry, that’s how teachers think. Then I thought about the princes, William and Harry, undoubtedly masters now of the, um, Queen’s English, going to school and suffering through the grammar lessons year after year, knowing that they, of all people, would never get away with laziness when it came to language. So many better things to do, like playing polo or shooting fox! Most kids le...
sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: Musings on Retiring from Teaching
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2015/06/musings-on-retiring-from-teaching.html
Sunday, June 28, 2015. Musings on Retiring from Teaching. June 28, 1015. Retirement. Well, almost. Tomorrow, the required “admin day,” beginning with the year-end staff breakfast, followed by a meeting I plan not to attend, and emptying, completely emptying, my classroom. John and I were talking today about this:. So what do you do when you can stop, have to stop, doing all that? But now, I won’t have that. I will have time. I will have energy (I am so tired! I can’t wait to see what emerges! The raging ...
sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: One Day, Two Days
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2012/07/one-day-two-days.html
Sunday, July 01, 2012. One Day, Two Days. July 1, 2012. I was able to catch another couple of hours in the Maple Leaf Lounge of Montréal airport, courtesy of my business class boarding pass. I snoozed again on the fifty minute flight to Québec. Then napped yet again once settled in my apartment bedroom here at the Collège Mérici. Now, after two days of cat naps, I feel ready to have a real night's sleep. Posted using BlogPress from my iPad. Please let us know. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: Apropos of nothing in particular
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2011/01/apropos-of-nothing-in-particular.html
Friday, January 28, 2011. Apropos of nothing in particular. Rick Steves is in Vancouver. We could catch the elevator with him, but he’s going down, and the auditorium is up. He’s eating a sandwich that smells of onions, and his face is clearly saying, “Please don’t get on the elevator with me.” So we don’t. He’s taller than he looks on TV. A veritable giant. And his belly is bigger than the camera shows, he being in the full flush of middle age. This is apropos of nothing. Our team meeting was interestin...
sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: Bill 22 and the Reality of Teaching
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2012/03/bill-22-and-reality-of-teaching.html
Saturday, March 03, 2012. Bill 22 and the Reality of Teaching. A letter, self-explanatory:. I write to four of you: Mr. Abbott as Education Minister, Mr. Hansen as my MLA, and Mr. Dix as leader of the Opposition, and Mr. Austin as Education Critic for the Opposition. It is my hope that the following will be read during debate in the legislature on Bill 22. Welcome to my Grade 6 classroom. But that’s just the physical space, not so very important in the scheme of things. I have 25 other students. I have a...
sparsemoments.blogspot.com
Sparse Moments: One Hero
http://sparsemoments.blogspot.com/2012/11/one-hero.html
Sunday, November 11, 2012. I wrote this for my students. The prose is pretty clunky in places, but it's a story I wish to share on this Remembrance Day. My mother's father, Bertie, was born near the village of Saham Toney, Norfolk, England, in 1888. I donʼt know anything about his childhood, because I never asked and he never volunteered to talk about it. It appears that he was born on a farm of sorts, and Iʼm pretty sure the family was poor. Bert ended up with cancer in his bones, discovered only when h...
