Which stars are green?

I don't know.  Why would stars be green?  Aren't they supposed to be white?  Or was the headline talking about movie and TV stars?  If that's the case then the original question I posed stands.  Why would stars be green?  Are they eating too many veggies?  Perhaps they're green with envy.  If that's the case, who are they envious of and why?  Do they dye their hair to match their faces?  Are they all trying out for the part of Elispeth in "Wicked'?  Do they come by their green-ness naturally or is it another form of body alteration, and why green?  Why not crimson or violet, fuschia or magenta?  How about teal?  That would certainly make an interesting contrast.  Even good old orange might be a nice change.  Which then begs the question, can these stars change their colour depending on their mood, or do they have to stay green?  What if they don't look good in green (hair, make-up, clothes, etc.)?  Are they social outcasts because they don't look like everyone else?  Why would anyone who is a star want to?  Oh.  Wait.  The article was really talking about stars who are practicing environmentally good things, not their colour or the way they feel about someone else (though given how some of them look, it could go either way).  Until next time, when I think vaguely about colouring my hair - not green.

Wriggling and Giggling

So here I am in Colombia, teaching middle school English, which might not be so bad.  Except for one thing.  I've forgotten how wriggly and giggly twelve and thirteen going on fourteen children really are.  To sit still for more than ten minutes is a challenge, to actually work for 50 minutes even more so. Add to this the penchant for children to spend most of their time socializing, interfacing on thier cell phones and the need to check for text messages ever five minutes or less, even when they shouldn't, makes for a very - dynamic - classroom.  Way too much energy, not enough places to use it up, which is why I generally like to stay away from this age group - as far away as I can.  Unfortunately my job is to teach these darlings.  Really need to check my sanity pills to up the strength for this one.  What will happen this year?  Well, let's see ... the thirteen-going-on-fourteens will continue to wage the battle between wanting to be little kids and raging hormones that say otherwise, which makes them, as my mother would say - snorty.  The twelve-going-on-thirteens will suddenly hit the hormone wall, which will turn them from children into - well even more wriggly and giggly teens.  Then, they have to relearn to work in English which is not their first language (even though they've been taking English as a subject for the last seven years it's like they haven't had any before - see hormones above).  So who will survive the year?  That's up for grabs - and it's only September.  Until next time I have enough brainpower to write this blog.

Hi honey I'm home

I'm back.  Finally.  It's funny how a person misses things he/she didn't realize he/she was missing until the thing he/she was missing isn't there.  Awkward, I know, but grammatically correct.  This she missed having a washing machine, coffee pot and toaster.  Not major applicances (well except the washing machine), but definitely things that make life a little easier.  Being on the road, I find there are all kinds of things I miss, mostly things of convenience, like a good cup of coffee first thing in the morning, or being able to drop a load of laundry into the washing machine any time I feel the need, or urge, or lack of clean clothes.  It makes me wonder how women in the past managed, but then I'm sure there were "modern conveniences" that were available that they also missed when they got to travel, which wasn't often.  I've missed blogging, not because I couldn't but because life, as always, seems to get in the way of things I want to do. It does that, you know.  Get in the way of things that are interesting and/or fun. The last few weeks have been hectic.  Getting a visa, travelling, settling into a new place, new language (my dab of Spanish is semiuseful here) and new school routine.  It takes up more time and energy than a person realizes at first.  Eventually I'll be so settled it will feel like I've been here forever.  Which of course is one of those time folding things and before I know it the year will be over and I'll feel like I've just started.  In the mean time, I'll get back into the routine of doing the things I enjoy, and will be here much more often.  Until next time.

Excuses, excuses

It's been a very long time since I last posted a blog.  Not because I couldn't (well, ok, it was difficult to get online in N Ireland for some bizarre reason), but mostly because intertia took over.  It's very hard to overcome the need to do nothing - or at least to convince yourself to do something when doing nothing is much easier.  I can list tons of excuses for not writing - that's easy.  What I can't do is give good, solid reasons for not doing my blogging.  Kind of like my students when they have tons of excuses for not doing their homework, but no real reasons.  As such, I would appologize for my laziness, but in truth can't because sometimes being lazy and enjoying doing as little as possible is often exactly what we need to do.  I was far too busy visiting family and friends to bother, and that was important.  I got to check up and check in with my sister, my mother and my sons (though the one in Canada missed out on a one to one because of circumstances, but next year we'll do better).  I was also able to spend quality time with my lifelong friend and her family - something I haven't really done for a very long time.  Which brings me to visits.  Some visits you can't wait to be over and others you wish would last for much longer. Case in point - my lifelong friend's hubby has relatives up the hoop, and this summer was the summer of the dreaded "drop in on short notice and visit".  This made for a lot of congestion and a lot of tongue biting on my friend's part, but she survived and will probably not have to do this again for another two or three years.  The second was indeed the case this year.  I enjoyed my month of visiting, but it is time to move on, so I head off into the great blue yonder to my next adventure in living.  I'll be out of circulation for a little while longer until I get internet connected at my new home in Colombia, so consistent commentaries will have to wait - again.  They will come, just not for a bit.  Until next time, I'm dashing off to the airport.

Electronic vs Manual

Call me old fashioned (ok I'm old fashioned), but there are times when incredibly old technology has a distinct advantage over new.  One of our secretaries was in tears yesterday, because modern technology failed her.  She is responsible for printing off and collating all the reports for the senior classes.  Technology, which is supposed to make her life so much easier, failed to do its job.  The program that was supposed to generate the reports screwed things up so badly it reduced this incredibly strong (and I'm not talking physical though she may be that as well) woman to tears.  I know the feeling well.  There have been a number of times I've felt like grabbing the computer tower, or laptop, and tossing it out the window, off the balcony, or the roof, of whatever building I happen to be in.  Actually, I find that threatening to do so will often correct the problem (unless there is a nasty virus, then not even the strongest of meds poured down its virtual throat will help).  However, back to electronic vs manual, which is where all this began.  In the olden days, you know back in the days of the dinosaurs, there used to be manual typewriters.  Yes, you actually had to not use electricity, press firmly (and I do mean firmly) on the keys, replace the ribbon once in a while (depending on how many times you'd used the cloth ribbon) and what was there was there.  Unless you made a mistake, then liquid paper (or a similar thing on strips of paper) was used.  Wayyyy before liquid paper, if one made a mistake, one had to take the sheet of paper out and retype everything.  Accuracy more than speed was the key, though being able to type 50 (yes 50) words per minute error free was the ultimate goal.  I never did reach that.  I think the highest I ever got was around 37 (kind of like my bowling scores).  No matter.  It was very tempting to suggest someone find her an old, manual typewriter to use - just for this occasion, or to take both the computer and the programmer up to the roof of the school and huck both of them off, just to make herself feel better.  Well ok, maybe not the programmer, that would cause all sorts of other problems, but the computer for sure. Until next time I feel like tossing the computer (is there a competition for how far a person can throw a computer, or how fast it will drop off the top of the roof, and where do I sign up?) I'll leave modern technology alone and go sit on my balcony where the birds are using even more ancient technology to soar through the air.

Toilet paper, potholes and recovery

At first, when I saw the headline about toilet paper and recovery, I thought I'd imagined it.  We all know I have a penchant for misreading things and was sure I'd read the headline wrong.  When I went back to re-read it, it was gone, so I simple assumed I'd been imagining it.  I do have a good imagination, but that would have been a little on the odd side.  However, given that I was probably subconsciously reminding myself to buy more toilet paper, I simply shrugged my shoulders and carried on, only to have the headline reappear, and no, I wasn't imagining it.  This leads to soooo many questions.  Why toilet paper?  What is it recovering from?  Who would know? Was it suffering from a hangover, or the flu, both of which can lay pretty much anything or anyone low?  Did the writer mean that someone recovered the toilet paper, perhaps in satin or crepe?  Why would whoever they are that is doing this do that?  Do they have a thing about naked toilet paper, unlike airline security who have a thing about clothing?  Perhaps the persons who feel that toilet paper needs to be recovered are actually talking about recycling.  How does one recover used toilet paper to recycle (cue up the eeewwww factor here)?  Can you, or anyone else for that matter, see your/him/herself listing that as a job skill?  Which brings us to the other headline about potholes and recovery.  Are the potholes in need of recovering (probably given how they spring up regularly on the roads, much like pimples only in reverse)?  What are they recovering from?  or should cities use the recovered toilet paper to fill the potholes, thus solving two problems in one go?  How much recovered toilet paper would it take to fill a pothole and how often would this task have to be performed?  How long would it last and what would be the economic benefit of such a move?  Why would anyone care about either of these (other than potholes which are an ongoing problem for pretty much everywhere)?   Ohhhh.  Never mind.  This has to all do with economic recovery - why, I have no idea, and this inquiring mind isn't going to spend the time finding out. Speculation is much more fun. Until next time.

Coffee

I'm sitting at the computer, sipping on my morning coffee.  No, not instant - that's not real coffee.  Not sure what it is, but it isn't real.  Actually the term "instant" coffee is a bit of a misnomer, considering that you have to wait for water to boil to have that cup of sludge, thus rendering the "instant" wrong.  Unless the manufacturers are referring to the "brewing" time, in which case, since there is no brewing, it is indeed instant.  Not that instant coffee doesn't have its place - like on a camping trip where electric outlets are probably non-existant anywhere remotely close to where the tent/camper/van is (and you're not hauling one of those handy dandy Canadian Tire generators).  I'm also not talking about chain coffee either.  You know, coffee blended specifically for some coffee chain or other.  It too has a less than authentic ring to it, though it is a vast improvement over the instant variety.  It is real coffee - don't get me wrong, but it somehow loses something in translation when it becomes "specially blended".
In my travels, I have, for the most part, lived in countries that grow coffee.  In the middle east it was Arabic coffee which has a distinct full flavour that definitely cannot be confused with the softer, rich flavour of Hawaiian coffee.  India's coffee has a very different flavour, incredibly mellow, someplace between Hawaiian and Arabic.  Mexican coffee has a very robust flavour that, when cinamon is added, gives it a very upbeat snap.  My next stop is Colombia, in the heart of coffee bean country, where I'm quite sure their coffee will have yet another wonderful flavour all its own.  Can't wait.  I'll be able to sip my morning coffee on the balcony and watch the world go by, savouring both the coffee and the sights and sounds of my next new home.  Until next time.