Buds of purple
Are on the lilac trees.
A matter of days
And they should show their faces
To the world.
The walnuts...
They're always the last to appear.
You'll know the warm weather,
The heat of spring,
Is here when they finally bud.
But I'm still waiting
For the john quills and black caps
To join the flora.
In the meantime,
The random forget-me-nots
Will suffice.
Sunday 29 April 2012
Bees (What All the Buzz is About)
When I was walking outside today,
I had to be very sound,
And ensure that my feet wouldn't stray
To the wrong places on the ground.
In amongst the flowers of yellow,
I would hear a faint buzz.
The sound of it was quite mellow,
But I immediately knew what it was.
All of the flowers were calling out
For bees to get their pollen.
That's what the buzz was all about.
A good thing, my feet on them, hadn't fallen.
Now I know to walk with care
In each and every step.
Bees and spring are in the air,
And there's an awful lot for them to schlep.
I had to be very sound,
And ensure that my feet wouldn't stray
To the wrong places on the ground.
In amongst the flowers of yellow,
I would hear a faint buzz.
The sound of it was quite mellow,
But I immediately knew what it was.
All of the flowers were calling out
For bees to get their pollen.
That's what the buzz was all about.
A good thing, my feet on them, hadn't fallen.
Now I know to walk with care
In each and every step.
Bees and spring are in the air,
And there's an awful lot for them to schlep.
Dandelions in the Wind
Yellow
Always smiling
Ever so happy
Strong but- soft scents
Starting to fade
Blowing away
Grey
Saturday 28 April 2012
Review: The Tale of Peter Rabbit
I honestly can't remember if I read The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter when I was a kid or not. Part of it seemed familiar, but not quite enough to convince me.
The Tale of Peter Rabbit is a classic of sorts with children's literature. Sadly, it didn't do much of anything for me. Sure, you could say that I'm maybe biased toward books from the early 1900's, but that's not the case. There is plenty of turn-of-the-century literature that's fantastic.
The best way that I can describe this book is that it had literary turrets. One moment, Potter's writing about Peter Rabbit running through the neighbour's garden, then she goes on about Peter Rabbit's clothes being turned into a scarecrow, then it's what the bunny had for supper, and after that, the book ends abruptly. In review form, what I just said might not seem all that bad, but in reality, the book was choppy. It had no flow, and that really bothered me.
But, as I don't want to be a Negative Nelly, there was one positive aspect about The Tale of Peter Rabbit that I thought was well done. The illustrations. They were done in water colour, and they were done quite well. Even though the book was jagged, at least the pictures weren't.
All in all, I wouldn't hold this book in high regard, unless you want a sample of beautiful illustrations. Then it's perfect.
The Tale of Peter Rabbit is a classic of sorts with children's literature. Sadly, it didn't do much of anything for me. Sure, you could say that I'm maybe biased toward books from the early 1900's, but that's not the case. There is plenty of turn-of-the-century literature that's fantastic.
The best way that I can describe this book is that it had literary turrets. One moment, Potter's writing about Peter Rabbit running through the neighbour's garden, then she goes on about Peter Rabbit's clothes being turned into a scarecrow, then it's what the bunny had for supper, and after that, the book ends abruptly. In review form, what I just said might not seem all that bad, but in reality, the book was choppy. It had no flow, and that really bothered me.
But, as I don't want to be a Negative Nelly, there was one positive aspect about The Tale of Peter Rabbit that I thought was well done. The illustrations. They were done in water colour, and they were done quite well. Even though the book was jagged, at least the pictures weren't.
All in all, I wouldn't hold this book in high regard, unless you want a sample of beautiful illustrations. Then it's perfect.
Thursday 26 April 2012
Review: The Puffin Book of Nursery Rhymes
Yeah, I bet you all can figure out what unit I just finished with my Children's Lit course. Before you judge me, just remember that once upon a time, we all thought nursery rhymes were the greatest things in existence.
The Puffin Book of Nursery Rhymes is definitely a more complete version for me. In comparison to the book I had when I was little (I think I still have it somewhere, hiding off in the depths of my closet), this one was jam packed. However, against other versions, it might be itty bitty. Who knows? Not me.
Though I recognized many of the rhymes, there were still dozens more that were new to me, which was quite exciting. Or, they were extensions of the versions that I was already familiar with. The one where the Knave of Hearts steals the Queen's tarts was four or five pages long! I had no idea. Another interesting tidbit was I discovered that there are about seven different versions of Humpty Dumpty. They all seemed to start with, "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall..." but not all of them resulted in him having a great fall. I found that to be quite fascinating.
You know that little voice you hear inside your head when you're reading something? There were a great number of rhymes that when I read them, suddenly, that little voice changed into my great gram's. At some point, I must have heard my great gram ramble off a bunch of them, even though I have no recollection.
There was one particular rhyme that I was hoping I'd come across, and I was very happy when I did. But, there's a slight catch with this rhyme: I can never for the life of my remember how it goes. I only know that it's one that I thoroughly enjoy when I come across it. I know, I know, you think I'm crazy. Well here's the thing. This piece was in my childhood nursery rhyme book. Even though I can't recall the last time I saw this book, I can still see the picture that goes with the rhyme perfectly. The background is dark, and there's a man on a rooftop hiding behind a chimney. There are rooftops everywhere, and it's night. The man looks like he could be a beggar or robber, with his filthy dark clothes, and equally dark and filthy cap. He's looking for something, but as for what, your guess is as good as mine... Well, taken straight from The Puffin Book of Nursery Rhymes, here's the poem that goes with the picture in my head:
The Puffin Book of Nursery Rhymes is definitely a more complete version for me. In comparison to the book I had when I was little (I think I still have it somewhere, hiding off in the depths of my closet), this one was jam packed. However, against other versions, it might be itty bitty. Who knows? Not me.
Though I recognized many of the rhymes, there were still dozens more that were new to me, which was quite exciting. Or, they were extensions of the versions that I was already familiar with. The one where the Knave of Hearts steals the Queen's tarts was four or five pages long! I had no idea. Another interesting tidbit was I discovered that there are about seven different versions of Humpty Dumpty. They all seemed to start with, "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall..." but not all of them resulted in him having a great fall. I found that to be quite fascinating.
You know that little voice you hear inside your head when you're reading something? There were a great number of rhymes that when I read them, suddenly, that little voice changed into my great gram's. At some point, I must have heard my great gram ramble off a bunch of them, even though I have no recollection.
There was one particular rhyme that I was hoping I'd come across, and I was very happy when I did. But, there's a slight catch with this rhyme: I can never for the life of my remember how it goes. I only know that it's one that I thoroughly enjoy when I come across it. I know, I know, you think I'm crazy. Well here's the thing. This piece was in my childhood nursery rhyme book. Even though I can't recall the last time I saw this book, I can still see the picture that goes with the rhyme perfectly. The background is dark, and there's a man on a rooftop hiding behind a chimney. There are rooftops everywhere, and it's night. The man looks like he could be a beggar or robber, with his filthy dark clothes, and equally dark and filthy cap. He's looking for something, but as for what, your guess is as good as mine... Well, taken straight from The Puffin Book of Nursery Rhymes, here's the poem that goes with the picture in my head:
There was a man and he had nought,
And robbers came to rob him;
He crept up to the chimney top,
And then they thought they had him.
But he got down on the other side,
And then they could not find him;
He ran fourteen miles in fifteen days,
And never looked behind him.
And now I'm happy to have the piece to go with the picture.
Should you want to relive your childhood with nursery rhymes, this book will definitely do. After all, it's opening rhyme is:
We wish you health,
We wish you wealth,
We wish you gold in store.
We wish you may enjoy this book,
What could we wish you more?
Saturday 21 April 2012
Review: The Endless Steppe
The Endless Steppe by Esther Hauztig is an autobiographical account of her family's exile to Siberia during the Second World War. As awful as it sounds, Esther's family was lucky that the worst they endured was Siberia.
Esther is a ten-year-old Jewish girl growing up in Vilna, Poland, at a time when the Russians were on the side of the Germans. Esther, her parents, and her father's parents, are loaded onto cattle cars, and shipped off to the endless steppes of Siberia. There are no trees, and there is hardly ever rain. The place is dry, desolate, and desert-like, and the winter hadn't even started yet.
Not only is Esther's family struggling to do the the work assigned to them, such as working in the mines, dynamiting, or crude farming, but they have worse living conditions, and are doing all they can to find food. The worst part is that being exiled was better than being captured by the Germans, especially after Russia chose to side with the English, and being sent off to the concentration camps.
Esther, her parents, and her grandparents, were some of the lucky few in her family who survived the war. The rest of them, save for an aunt and a couple of cousins, were killed in the camps.
This book, though simple in style, was difficult to read. Perhaps knowing that it was an autobiographical account is what made it hard to get through. I knew it was going to take a lot when the first chapter caused me to break down and cry. However, The Endless Steppe is very good to read if you want to see another side of Jewish survival during the Second World War.
Esther is a ten-year-old Jewish girl growing up in Vilna, Poland, at a time when the Russians were on the side of the Germans. Esther, her parents, and her father's parents, are loaded onto cattle cars, and shipped off to the endless steppes of Siberia. There are no trees, and there is hardly ever rain. The place is dry, desolate, and desert-like, and the winter hadn't even started yet.
Not only is Esther's family struggling to do the the work assigned to them, such as working in the mines, dynamiting, or crude farming, but they have worse living conditions, and are doing all they can to find food. The worst part is that being exiled was better than being captured by the Germans, especially after Russia chose to side with the English, and being sent off to the concentration camps.
Esther, her parents, and her grandparents, were some of the lucky few in her family who survived the war. The rest of them, save for an aunt and a couple of cousins, were killed in the camps.
This book, though simple in style, was difficult to read. Perhaps knowing that it was an autobiographical account is what made it hard to get through. I knew it was going to take a lot when the first chapter caused me to break down and cry. However, The Endless Steppe is very good to read if you want to see another side of Jewish survival during the Second World War.
Thursday 19 April 2012
The Colour Yellow
One of the wonderful things about the time I like to spend to myself on my bicycle is all the wonderful things I get to observe. Today's observation was also a bit of a childhood memory.
The dandelions are out in full force, which I know makes many people insane, but I do enjoy them. I don't mind their smell, and they always look so darn happy. And it's not just little patches of them here or there. Like the air we breathe, they're everywhere! It's fantastic.
When I was a little girl, while one of my aunts was working on her Ph.D in chemistry at the local university, she used to come over on the weekends for sleepovers. It was great. I had bunk beds, so she always had a place to sleep. Some days, she'd take me to school with her, and I'd get to do experiments with her. Don't worry, they were safe. I seem to recall old-school 3D in red and blue, and dry ice. For as many times that I'd go with her to the university, we'd also amuse ourselves here.
I remember days, much like today, warm, the sun shining, and a few clouds in the sky, and our field being covered in dandelions. For no other reason than we could, we'd go out into the field of yellow, lie down, watch the clouds, and enjoy one another's company. My mum would look for us outside, and not be able to see us. Then she'd give a yell, and she'd see two heads pop up, giggle, and then disappear into the yellow again.
That's always been one of my favourite childhood memories. So even though many people would rather get rid of those little yellow flowers that spread faster and stronger than the plague, I'll always love them. They'll always make me want to be a kid again, and lie down in amongst the colour yellow, and stare at the clouds. Maybe when I'm done riding my bicycle...
The dandelions are out in full force, which I know makes many people insane, but I do enjoy them. I don't mind their smell, and they always look so darn happy. And it's not just little patches of them here or there. Like the air we breathe, they're everywhere! It's fantastic.
When I was a little girl, while one of my aunts was working on her Ph.D in chemistry at the local university, she used to come over on the weekends for sleepovers. It was great. I had bunk beds, so she always had a place to sleep. Some days, she'd take me to school with her, and I'd get to do experiments with her. Don't worry, they were safe. I seem to recall old-school 3D in red and blue, and dry ice. For as many times that I'd go with her to the university, we'd also amuse ourselves here.
I remember days, much like today, warm, the sun shining, and a few clouds in the sky, and our field being covered in dandelions. For no other reason than we could, we'd go out into the field of yellow, lie down, watch the clouds, and enjoy one another's company. My mum would look for us outside, and not be able to see us. Then she'd give a yell, and she'd see two heads pop up, giggle, and then disappear into the yellow again.
That's always been one of my favourite childhood memories. So even though many people would rather get rid of those little yellow flowers that spread faster and stronger than the plague, I'll always love them. They'll always make me want to be a kid again, and lie down in amongst the colour yellow, and stare at the clouds. Maybe when I'm done riding my bicycle...
Wednesday 18 April 2012
A Little Bit of Nineties
I've always been a sucker for classic rock. For as many present-day bands and musicians that I enjoy, the bands and individuals of decades past will always hold a strong place in my heart. Lately, I've been giving in to such desires, mostly from the nineties.
Though I was a teenager during the early 2000s, I'm a child of the nineties, so perhaps that's why that decade is what's calling to me the most at the moment. There are two songs in particular from this time period that I've been addicted to as of late.
The first song is "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something, and this is the one that I've been listening to the most.
I swear, I could listen to this song over and over. But since it makes me happy, why shouldn't I set it to repeat?
I've also heard "Closing Time" by Semisonic quite often on the radio. But it's a good song, so why not?
Finally, I've become highly addicted to "Pop Goes the World" by Men Without Hats. Yes, I realize this particular song is from 1987, making it as old as I am, but it's still tons of fun, and who doesn't love fun?
I blame the current Tide commercial for getting this stuck in my head. However, I'm disappointed that my local library doesn't have this song in amongst its music collection. And since I don't know how to download, I guess I'll just have to stick to listening to it on Youtube.
*Sidebar: for any HPL employees who may be reading this, with your fancy-pants music download section on your site, you don't have Men Without Hats.*
And there you have it. A little piece of the nineties, and a smaller part of the eighties. I hope they make you as happy as they've made me.
Though I was a teenager during the early 2000s, I'm a child of the nineties, so perhaps that's why that decade is what's calling to me the most at the moment. There are two songs in particular from this time period that I've been addicted to as of late.
The first song is "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something, and this is the one that I've been listening to the most.
I swear, I could listen to this song over and over. But since it makes me happy, why shouldn't I set it to repeat?
I've also heard "Closing Time" by Semisonic quite often on the radio. But it's a good song, so why not?
Finally, I've become highly addicted to "Pop Goes the World" by Men Without Hats. Yes, I realize this particular song is from 1987, making it as old as I am, but it's still tons of fun, and who doesn't love fun?
I blame the current Tide commercial for getting this stuck in my head. However, I'm disappointed that my local library doesn't have this song in amongst its music collection. And since I don't know how to download, I guess I'll just have to stick to listening to it on Youtube.
*Sidebar: for any HPL employees who may be reading this, with your fancy-pants music download section on your site, you don't have Men Without Hats.*
And there you have it. A little piece of the nineties, and a smaller part of the eighties. I hope they make you as happy as they've made me.
A Few of my Favourite Things: Spring Fling Edition
Spring. There's something about it that fills people with happy, cheery feelings. But then, saying goodbye to winter usually excites people on the best of days, so such a reaction really isn't that surprising.
There were bits and pieces of spring, save for one or two, that I'd forgotten how much I loved until they made their presence known. First and foremost, my favourite thing about spring is when the purple lilac bush outside of my great gram's old part buds and blooms. Sadly, the flowers only remain for a week or so, but that short period is by far the sweetest part of this season, in both sight and scent. The bush has already started to turn purple:
Usually, the johnquills come up around the same time the lilacs bloom. We have them planted on all sides of the house. Though I don't love them as much as the lilacs, having them for an extended period of time still makes me a very happy girl.
I also love how crisp and fresh the air is. So many aromas drift with the spring breezes as well. Some days, I'm hit with the scent of fresh cut grass. Other days, I can smell the mud in the air after a good rain. Though the smell of manure isn't exactly pleasant, its odor reminds me that the fields will be planted soon.
Being able to actually hear the birds outside is just wonderful. Sure, you hear a few in the colder months, but their chirping on mass in the warmer weather can be soothing. Naturally, some of them can be annoying, like a crow, or a stupid gull, but the smaller ones that mingle around my house can be some of the best background noise you could ever require (for the days you don't want to be in dead quiet, but don't know what you want to listen to).
Spring also means the Comley boys coming in to plant our fields. I don't know whether they'll be putting in corn this year or beans (no wheat this year, which is actually what they plant every few years in the fall), but seeing our fields adorned with green can be a wonderful sight. Corn is always so majestic, and wheat flows so beautifully. Usually beans just exist and do nothing for the eyes, but if they do beans again, and they behave like last year, I can guarantee another wonderful sight.
Last but not least, besides they days being a wonderful combination of warm and crisp, the sun shines for a little bit longer each day, and who doesn't love that? Here's to the start of days that we never want to have end.
There were bits and pieces of spring, save for one or two, that I'd forgotten how much I loved until they made their presence known. First and foremost, my favourite thing about spring is when the purple lilac bush outside of my great gram's old part buds and blooms. Sadly, the flowers only remain for a week or so, but that short period is by far the sweetest part of this season, in both sight and scent. The bush has already started to turn purple:
Usually, the johnquills come up around the same time the lilacs bloom. We have them planted on all sides of the house. Though I don't love them as much as the lilacs, having them for an extended period of time still makes me a very happy girl.
I also love how crisp and fresh the air is. So many aromas drift with the spring breezes as well. Some days, I'm hit with the scent of fresh cut grass. Other days, I can smell the mud in the air after a good rain. Though the smell of manure isn't exactly pleasant, its odor reminds me that the fields will be planted soon.
Being able to actually hear the birds outside is just wonderful. Sure, you hear a few in the colder months, but their chirping on mass in the warmer weather can be soothing. Naturally, some of them can be annoying, like a crow, or a stupid gull, but the smaller ones that mingle around my house can be some of the best background noise you could ever require (for the days you don't want to be in dead quiet, but don't know what you want to listen to).
Spring also means the Comley boys coming in to plant our fields. I don't know whether they'll be putting in corn this year or beans (no wheat this year, which is actually what they plant every few years in the fall), but seeing our fields adorned with green can be a wonderful sight. Corn is always so majestic, and wheat flows so beautifully. Usually beans just exist and do nothing for the eyes, but if they do beans again, and they behave like last year, I can guarantee another wonderful sight.
Last but not least, besides they days being a wonderful combination of warm and crisp, the sun shines for a little bit longer each day, and who doesn't love that? Here's to the start of days that we never want to have end.
Tuesday 17 April 2012
Pennies Pinched
For those of you who don't know, Canada, after this year, will no longer be using pennies. They will be going the way of the dodo. But, that doesn't mean you can't put forth some foolish creativity...
I had decided that I should clear out the bulk of the change from my wallet, as it was becoming difficult to zip up, along with heavy. That's when I decided to cater to my curiosity, and with all the pennies in my stash, I decided to try to find one from 2012. If I could fine one, I'd put it away in a special place, so somewhere down the road of time, I'd be able to say, "and this is a penny from its final year of production."
I figured the easiest way to go about such a task would be to return my loonie, toonie, and few quarters back to my wallet, and transfer everything else that had a silver colour to my Uncle Ivan Special (a bank that looks like a septic tank. I know that sounds gross, and borderline disturbing, but man, that thing holds a lot of coins). When my pennies were all that remained, I set about my goal of finding a penny from 2012.
As I was going through, I managed to find a variety from the 1960s up to the 2000s. So, I decided to set myself another challenge: Could I find a penny to match the year of birth for everyone in my house? With that challenge, I was 75% successful. The only penny I need to find to finish that off is one from 1967. All of the other coins from the 60's, 70's, and 80's, I kept. Yes, I know they're pennies, but there's something about them that just made me want to keep them.
When I was almost done my pile of pennies, I found the one I was looking for: A shiney piece of copper stamped 2012.
My goals, for the most part, were met with success. Now all I need to find is that one from 1967...
I had decided that I should clear out the bulk of the change from my wallet, as it was becoming difficult to zip up, along with heavy. That's when I decided to cater to my curiosity, and with all the pennies in my stash, I decided to try to find one from 2012. If I could fine one, I'd put it away in a special place, so somewhere down the road of time, I'd be able to say, "and this is a penny from its final year of production."
I figured the easiest way to go about such a task would be to return my loonie, toonie, and few quarters back to my wallet, and transfer everything else that had a silver colour to my Uncle Ivan Special (a bank that looks like a septic tank. I know that sounds gross, and borderline disturbing, but man, that thing holds a lot of coins). When my pennies were all that remained, I set about my goal of finding a penny from 2012.
As I was going through, I managed to find a variety from the 1960s up to the 2000s. So, I decided to set myself another challenge: Could I find a penny to match the year of birth for everyone in my house? With that challenge, I was 75% successful. The only penny I need to find to finish that off is one from 1967. All of the other coins from the 60's, 70's, and 80's, I kept. Yes, I know they're pennies, but there's something about them that just made me want to keep them.
When I was almost done my pile of pennies, I found the one I was looking for: A shiney piece of copper stamped 2012.
My goals, for the most part, were met with success. Now all I need to find is that one from 1967...
Monday 16 April 2012
A Lesson in Frustration
We all have breaking points, whether we like to admit it or not, and as such, we can go from being completely reasonable to downright miserable. Such has been the case for me lately, but last night I reached my boiling point.
Last night, though my guy meant well, accidentally caused me to have a wee bit of a melt down. Last June, my contract with ArcelorMittal Dofasco ended. I took the summer off, as I hadn't had spare time for a very long while, and got back to the job hunt in September. Don't get me wrong, I didn't spend all of my summer lazing around. Once July hit, my mother went in for knee surgery, so half my summer went to giving her a hand. I don't know what everyone else is like, but even though I do enjoy having time off, after a while, I get a little testy, and need something to occupy my time before I go insane.
Unfortunately, I've been having difficulty finding a job. I have a background that involves cargo and steel, but I really don't want to spend my life in either of those areas. I'd like to do something that's a little cleaner, doesn't involve 12-hour rotating shifts, and where I can wear short sleeves in the summer. Well, my poor guy, as he knows that I'm finding jobless to be quite irritating and stressful, expressed his concern that I may be limiting myself, and was wondering about broadening my horizons. Sadly, that's easier said than done, and that was the comment that led to my breakdown.
I confess, I felt terrible. Not so much for me, but for him. I got upset over good intentions, which probably explains why I came home to a bunch of emails from him that were forwarded job postings. For that, I think I'll keep him. He also offered to look over my resumes (I have one for writing, one for PR, and one for reception/ clerical). Even though I've had a career councilor go over them, and do edits, sometimes an outside set of eyes can be quite helpful.
So to those who are on the job hunt, and are the brink of a breakdown, my god, do I ever feel your pain. But, we just have to pick ourselves back up, come up with a plan, and forge ahead the best we can. And if your fella says something with the best intentions, but you break down regardless, don't be harsh on him. He was only trying to be helpful.
And if anyone is seeking a reader-writer-speaker extraordinaire, or someone to do receptionist/ clerical duties, I'd be glad to be of service.
Last night, though my guy meant well, accidentally caused me to have a wee bit of a melt down. Last June, my contract with ArcelorMittal Dofasco ended. I took the summer off, as I hadn't had spare time for a very long while, and got back to the job hunt in September. Don't get me wrong, I didn't spend all of my summer lazing around. Once July hit, my mother went in for knee surgery, so half my summer went to giving her a hand. I don't know what everyone else is like, but even though I do enjoy having time off, after a while, I get a little testy, and need something to occupy my time before I go insane.
Unfortunately, I've been having difficulty finding a job. I have a background that involves cargo and steel, but I really don't want to spend my life in either of those areas. I'd like to do something that's a little cleaner, doesn't involve 12-hour rotating shifts, and where I can wear short sleeves in the summer. Well, my poor guy, as he knows that I'm finding jobless to be quite irritating and stressful, expressed his concern that I may be limiting myself, and was wondering about broadening my horizons. Sadly, that's easier said than done, and that was the comment that led to my breakdown.
I confess, I felt terrible. Not so much for me, but for him. I got upset over good intentions, which probably explains why I came home to a bunch of emails from him that were forwarded job postings. For that, I think I'll keep him. He also offered to look over my resumes (I have one for writing, one for PR, and one for reception/ clerical). Even though I've had a career councilor go over them, and do edits, sometimes an outside set of eyes can be quite helpful.
So to those who are on the job hunt, and are the brink of a breakdown, my god, do I ever feel your pain. But, we just have to pick ourselves back up, come up with a plan, and forge ahead the best we can. And if your fella says something with the best intentions, but you break down regardless, don't be harsh on him. He was only trying to be helpful.
And if anyone is seeking a reader-writer-speaker extraordinaire, or someone to do receptionist/ clerical duties, I'd be glad to be of service.
Sunday 15 April 2012
This Day in History: Titanic Edition
So, as many of you probably know, today marks the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. What a way to end a maiden voyage. Today also happens to be my mum's birthday, which is definitely a more positive occasion.
The Titanic was the pride of the White Star Line, and was supposed to be unsinkable... until it decided to tango with a big-ass iceberg on April 15, 1912. And now it lies off the coast of Newfoundland, and is the watery grave to more than a thousand souls.
The ship, though well known, wasn't discovered at the bottom of the Atlantic until 1985. As for the man behind the movie, James Cameron, he's done somewhere in the vicinity of 33 dives to the world's most famous shipwreck. When he said he had a fascination with the Titanic, he wasn't kidding. Cameron now pretty well knows that ship inside out and backwards, he's spent so much time in the ocean with it. I liked the footage he shot during his dives better than his movie. Which brings me to my confession...
To be honest, I don't know much about the Titanic, despite National Geographic Channel's Titanic Week, but unfortunately too, I can tell you that the film version of it disappointed me. What can I say? When the film first came out in 1997 (I was in the fifth grade at the time), I was expecting a history lesson and instead, I got a love story. As well, we in Canada were subjected to countless bouts of Celine Dion singing the title song, "My Heart Will Go On." I'm pretty sure even the most die-hard Celine Dion fans wanted to slam their heads into a wall, it was overplayed that much.
Since my Titanic knowledge is limited at best, even though I've watched a few specials this week that were quite fascinating, I think the best thing to do would be to leave you with the link to the RMS Titanic site:
http://www.rmstitanic.net/
My heart might not go on, but the legacy of the Titanic sure will.
The Titanic was the pride of the White Star Line, and was supposed to be unsinkable... until it decided to tango with a big-ass iceberg on April 15, 1912. And now it lies off the coast of Newfoundland, and is the watery grave to more than a thousand souls.
The ship, though well known, wasn't discovered at the bottom of the Atlantic until 1985. As for the man behind the movie, James Cameron, he's done somewhere in the vicinity of 33 dives to the world's most famous shipwreck. When he said he had a fascination with the Titanic, he wasn't kidding. Cameron now pretty well knows that ship inside out and backwards, he's spent so much time in the ocean with it. I liked the footage he shot during his dives better than his movie. Which brings me to my confession...
To be honest, I don't know much about the Titanic, despite National Geographic Channel's Titanic Week, but unfortunately too, I can tell you that the film version of it disappointed me. What can I say? When the film first came out in 1997 (I was in the fifth grade at the time), I was expecting a history lesson and instead, I got a love story. As well, we in Canada were subjected to countless bouts of Celine Dion singing the title song, "My Heart Will Go On." I'm pretty sure even the most die-hard Celine Dion fans wanted to slam their heads into a wall, it was overplayed that much.
Since my Titanic knowledge is limited at best, even though I've watched a few specials this week that were quite fascinating, I think the best thing to do would be to leave you with the link to the RMS Titanic site:
http://www.rmstitanic.net/
My heart might not go on, but the legacy of the Titanic sure will.
Saturday 14 April 2012
Review: Naomi's Road
Naomi's Road by Joy Kogawa is a story that takes place in Canada during the Second World War, and is based on the author's own personal experience. However, what also makes this story different is it tells the tale of a Japanese family that was placed into a Canadian internment camp after the attack on Pearl Harbour in 1941.
Naomi starts off as a four year old girl who doesn't understand why people in Canada think that she and her family are bad, simply because they are Japanese. She ends up having to leave her home and her cherry tree in Vancouver behind, and go to a camp in Slocan, British Columbia. Before she left Vancouver, her mother and grandmother returned to Japan to see a sick relative. Her daddy also has to leave the family, and her other grandmother passes on. The family she is left with is her brother, her uncle, and Obasan.
On her way back from school, Naomi meets a girl named Mitzi who at first dislikes Naomi and her brother solely because of their race. But, after a bit of time, and encouragement from her mother, Mitzi comes around, and becomes Naomi's closest friend. Unfortunately, their time is cut short when Naomi and her family are relocated out to Alberta to work as farm hands. The life and family she once had are no longer.
Naomi's Road takes the reader back to a point in Canadian history that many probably don't know about. Our government had a race of people who did no wrong in this country sent off to camps for no other reason than they were Japanese. It's a painful reminder of who we were and what we did. I knew that we had a black mark on our history, but I didn't realize the extent. This story was definitely an education for me, even if it was historical fiction.
Naomi starts off as a four year old girl who doesn't understand why people in Canada think that she and her family are bad, simply because they are Japanese. She ends up having to leave her home and her cherry tree in Vancouver behind, and go to a camp in Slocan, British Columbia. Before she left Vancouver, her mother and grandmother returned to Japan to see a sick relative. Her daddy also has to leave the family, and her other grandmother passes on. The family she is left with is her brother, her uncle, and Obasan.
On her way back from school, Naomi meets a girl named Mitzi who at first dislikes Naomi and her brother solely because of their race. But, after a bit of time, and encouragement from her mother, Mitzi comes around, and becomes Naomi's closest friend. Unfortunately, their time is cut short when Naomi and her family are relocated out to Alberta to work as farm hands. The life and family she once had are no longer.
Naomi's Road takes the reader back to a point in Canadian history that many probably don't know about. Our government had a race of people who did no wrong in this country sent off to camps for no other reason than they were Japanese. It's a painful reminder of who we were and what we did. I knew that we had a black mark on our history, but I didn't realize the extent. This story was definitely an education for me, even if it was historical fiction.
Thursday 12 April 2012
Review: Julie of the Wolves
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George was another piece of required reading for my children's literature course.
The story is broken into three parts, each covering an important aspect of Miyax's life (Julie is her English name). She's an Eskimo girl set in her Eskimo ways, and when the life she's living becomes unhealthy, she chooses to leave it behind. She's taken in by a pack of Arctic wolves, and she learns to live the way they do. Life with the wolves is well, until she realizes that winter is coming. Now she must decide if she's going to stay out on the frozen tundra, or try to find her way back to civilization. But that's not the only decision she has to make.
Miyax wants to get from the frozen Arctic to San Fransisco where her pen pal lives. Green grass, a pink room, no snow and civilization all sound quite appealing, until Miyax realizes how the gussaks (white people) treat the wild life and the Eskimos. Everything that she was led to believe, whether it was from her father, or her pen pal, isn't so true after all. The only ones she can rely on is her pack of wolves, and herself.
Julie of the Wolves is simple, but I found it interesting as I've studied Native literature before. I was able to draw parallels, and understand the story in a different manner, I think, than those who have never studied Native lit at all. Regardless, it's still worth reading if you're looking for something short (by novel standards) and simple to pass the time.
The story is broken into three parts, each covering an important aspect of Miyax's life (Julie is her English name). She's an Eskimo girl set in her Eskimo ways, and when the life she's living becomes unhealthy, she chooses to leave it behind. She's taken in by a pack of Arctic wolves, and she learns to live the way they do. Life with the wolves is well, until she realizes that winter is coming. Now she must decide if she's going to stay out on the frozen tundra, or try to find her way back to civilization. But that's not the only decision she has to make.
Miyax wants to get from the frozen Arctic to San Fransisco where her pen pal lives. Green grass, a pink room, no snow and civilization all sound quite appealing, until Miyax realizes how the gussaks (white people) treat the wild life and the Eskimos. Everything that she was led to believe, whether it was from her father, or her pen pal, isn't so true after all. The only ones she can rely on is her pack of wolves, and herself.
Julie of the Wolves is simple, but I found it interesting as I've studied Native literature before. I was able to draw parallels, and understand the story in a different manner, I think, than those who have never studied Native lit at all. Regardless, it's still worth reading if you're looking for something short (by novel standards) and simple to pass the time.
Tuesday 10 April 2012
Yesterday in History: Vimy Ridge Edition
Yesterday was a very important day in both Canadian and First World War history, right down to the day itself. On Easter Monday, April 9, 1917, in the early morning hours, Canada did what so many other nations failed to do: take back Vimy Ridge for the French.
This year marked the 95th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge. I knew it was long ago, but realizing that the anniversary of the battle is almost as old as my great gram passed me by until I stopped to think about it.
Thousands of Canadians were killed in this battle, and where they once fought now stands a monolithic memorial that I one day want to go visit.
To think that Canada was still a fairly young nation (only 50 years old), and achieved such a feat is both impressive, awe inspiring, but sad too as you know so many young Canadians were killed in this battle, and about 66 000 in total throughout the course of the First World War.
All I ask is this. Remember our heritage, where we came from, and what this country did for a friend at such a young age. Always remember Vimy Ridge.
For more on Vimy Ridge:
Follow the link to the Veteran Affairs Canada website
http://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/memorials/ww1mem/vimy
For more on Canada's roles in the First and second World Wars, please refer to my series "11 Days of Remembrance" located under November 2011.
This year marked the 95th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge. I knew it was long ago, but realizing that the anniversary of the battle is almost as old as my great gram passed me by until I stopped to think about it.
Thousands of Canadians were killed in this battle, and where they once fought now stands a monolithic memorial that I one day want to go visit.
To think that Canada was still a fairly young nation (only 50 years old), and achieved such a feat is both impressive, awe inspiring, but sad too as you know so many young Canadians were killed in this battle, and about 66 000 in total throughout the course of the First World War.
All I ask is this. Remember our heritage, where we came from, and what this country did for a friend at such a young age. Always remember Vimy Ridge.
For more on Vimy Ridge:
Follow the link to the Veteran Affairs Canada website
http://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/memorials/ww1mem/vimy
For more on Canada's roles in the First and second World Wars, please refer to my series "11 Days of Remembrance" located under November 2011.
Sunday 8 April 2012
Happy Easter
Hey all!
To those of you who celebrate Easter, I hope you have a wonderful one, and have a good time with the friends and family you love the most!
Happy Easter!
To those of you who celebrate Easter, I hope you have a wonderful one, and have a good time with the friends and family you love the most!
Happy Easter!
Friday 6 April 2012
Review: Anne of Green Gables
The last time I read Anne of Green Gables, I was in my grade nine English class. It was just as simple, sweet, and touching 11 years later as it was back then. Back in the eighties, a television film of this novel came about, and I remember borrowing it from the library in the nineties. There were so many scenes in the book that I had forgotten about, but when I came across them, I could see film playing in my head.
There were two parts to the book that I remembered fully before picking it up to read it again for my Children's Literature course: the first was Gilbert calling Anne "carrots," and Anne bringing her slate crashing down over his head. The other part I remembered was the death of a main character. The rest of the book was like new to me all over again, while comfortably familiar all at the same time.
Reading Anne of Green Gables, I felt like I was growing up right along with Anne. How four or five years can be compressed into 308 pages, I don't know, but it worked out beautifully.
For those who aren't Canadian, and are unfamiliar with the Anne books, they were written by Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery, and take place on Prince Edward Island in the late 1800's-early 1900's. Anne Shirley is an orphan girl, mistakenly sent in place of a boy, to assist two elderly siblings Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert. Her hair is fiery red, and so is her temper. But, before long, Matthew and Marilla soon come to realize how wonderful their lives have become as a result of this mistake. With the Cuthberts, Gilbert, Diana, Miss. Stacey, and Mrs. Rachel Lynde, the imagination of Anne, and the reader, soars.
I had forgotten how much I enjoyed this charming children's novel. It really is a fine sample of some of the greatest writing Canada has to offer.
There were two parts to the book that I remembered fully before picking it up to read it again for my Children's Literature course: the first was Gilbert calling Anne "carrots," and Anne bringing her slate crashing down over his head. The other part I remembered was the death of a main character. The rest of the book was like new to me all over again, while comfortably familiar all at the same time.
Reading Anne of Green Gables, I felt like I was growing up right along with Anne. How four or five years can be compressed into 308 pages, I don't know, but it worked out beautifully.
For those who aren't Canadian, and are unfamiliar with the Anne books, they were written by Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery, and take place on Prince Edward Island in the late 1800's-early 1900's. Anne Shirley is an orphan girl, mistakenly sent in place of a boy, to assist two elderly siblings Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert. Her hair is fiery red, and so is her temper. But, before long, Matthew and Marilla soon come to realize how wonderful their lives have become as a result of this mistake. With the Cuthberts, Gilbert, Diana, Miss. Stacey, and Mrs. Rachel Lynde, the imagination of Anne, and the reader, soars.
I had forgotten how much I enjoyed this charming children's novel. It really is a fine sample of some of the greatest writing Canada has to offer.
Thursday 5 April 2012
Review: The Hunger Games (Film Version)
Last night, my guy and I went to see The Hunger Games. He's read the trilogy, while I have yet to do so (it's on my list of books I'd like to read, but seeing how I still have some books left for my kid lit course, HG has to take a place at the end of the line). However, even though I have yet to read the books, between the boyfriend, and Omar, I knew the characters names, who Omar was rooting for, and I had a pretty good premise of what the books were about, aside from tidbits I'd hear in the news, or stumble across online.
I have no problem admitting that I liked the movie, and that I thought it was really well done. I also liked when I was told that it stayed pretty true to the book. I have a general dislike of films that choose to stray from the original novel. The film could still be good, but I'd be left with a bitter feeling that it wasn't as true to the original as it ought to be.
The characters were strong-willed, and I found them to be believable. Katniss, who volunteers as Tribute at the District 12 Reaping in place of her sister, thinks only of Primrose, her sole motivation to come out of the games alive. Peeta doesn't want to be owned, and decides that if he is to die during the games, he wants to at least be himself. And one of the younger characters, whose name I can't remember, despite being terrified, is still clever, and knows that if she sticks with Katniss, she might have a chance to survive.
Yes, I realize that a novel-turned-film about adolescents who fight to the death so the victor's home district can have food to survive is disturbing. That in itself is enough to potentially turn people away. But the story, and how the film was layed out, the action scenes, the struggle to survive were well done.
I must confess, though, there was one part of the film where my terrible sense of humour came through. One of the characters is dying, and she asks Katniss to sing to her. Though Katniss sang some other song, I was so desperately waiting for her to sing "Soft Kitty" (if you've ever watched The Big Bang Theory, you'll understand the reference). When I leaned over to my date, and said that I was waiting to hear "Soft Kitty" he couldn't help but laugh himself because he was thinking the exact same thing.
Overall, I'd recommend seeing this film. It really was a sight to behold, and I can understand why it broke so many records.
I have no problem admitting that I liked the movie, and that I thought it was really well done. I also liked when I was told that it stayed pretty true to the book. I have a general dislike of films that choose to stray from the original novel. The film could still be good, but I'd be left with a bitter feeling that it wasn't as true to the original as it ought to be.
The characters were strong-willed, and I found them to be believable. Katniss, who volunteers as Tribute at the District 12 Reaping in place of her sister, thinks only of Primrose, her sole motivation to come out of the games alive. Peeta doesn't want to be owned, and decides that if he is to die during the games, he wants to at least be himself. And one of the younger characters, whose name I can't remember, despite being terrified, is still clever, and knows that if she sticks with Katniss, she might have a chance to survive.
Yes, I realize that a novel-turned-film about adolescents who fight to the death so the victor's home district can have food to survive is disturbing. That in itself is enough to potentially turn people away. But the story, and how the film was layed out, the action scenes, the struggle to survive were well done.
I must confess, though, there was one part of the film where my terrible sense of humour came through. One of the characters is dying, and she asks Katniss to sing to her. Though Katniss sang some other song, I was so desperately waiting for her to sing "Soft Kitty" (if you've ever watched The Big Bang Theory, you'll understand the reference). When I leaned over to my date, and said that I was waiting to hear "Soft Kitty" he couldn't help but laugh himself because he was thinking the exact same thing.
Overall, I'd recommend seeing this film. It really was a sight to behold, and I can understand why it broke so many records.
Monday 2 April 2012
Review: The Eagle of the Ninth
The Eagle of the Ninth by English author Rosemary Sutcliffe is a tale for young adults that takes place in in an era when Britain was under Roman rule. It's a hefty read, but is definitely worth the while.
Centurion Marcus has decided to clear his father's name, solve a two-decade old mystery and get back what rightfully belongs to the Ninth Legion: Find out why four thousand legion members marched into the mists in the north of Britain, led by Marcus's father, never to return, and what happened to the bronze eagle, their legion's symbol, when the legion was lost?
Marcus and his freed-slave Esca set out on a months-long journey to discover the truth about the Ninth Legion, and to take back what was lost. As these two characters are from very different lives, you'd wonder how they could ever be successful in their quest, but after a while, you find that they really aren't so different after all.
If gladiators and Romans fascinate you, I'm quite certain you'd enjoy The Eagle of the Ninth. There's blood, injury, betrayal, and gladiator fights to the death. It's not fact, however, the novel is historical fiction, and you can tell that Sutcliffe had done her research.
I must confess though, that I originally had a hard time getting into this book because it was such a heavy read (like Tolkien heavy, but without the stupidity and boredom). I had the intention of just finding a summary online, and leaving well enough alone. That plan backfired, and made me want to finish the book. And I can say that I'm honestly glad I did. If you like historical fiction, or appreciate a solid novel overall, I doubt you'd be disappointed reading The Eagle of the Ninth. You just have to muddle through the first chapter, and a few pages into the second one, and then you'll be on a roll.
Centurion Marcus has decided to clear his father's name, solve a two-decade old mystery and get back what rightfully belongs to the Ninth Legion: Find out why four thousand legion members marched into the mists in the north of Britain, led by Marcus's father, never to return, and what happened to the bronze eagle, their legion's symbol, when the legion was lost?
Marcus and his freed-slave Esca set out on a months-long journey to discover the truth about the Ninth Legion, and to take back what was lost. As these two characters are from very different lives, you'd wonder how they could ever be successful in their quest, but after a while, you find that they really aren't so different after all.
If gladiators and Romans fascinate you, I'm quite certain you'd enjoy The Eagle of the Ninth. There's blood, injury, betrayal, and gladiator fights to the death. It's not fact, however, the novel is historical fiction, and you can tell that Sutcliffe had done her research.
I must confess though, that I originally had a hard time getting into this book because it was such a heavy read (like Tolkien heavy, but without the stupidity and boredom). I had the intention of just finding a summary online, and leaving well enough alone. That plan backfired, and made me want to finish the book. And I can say that I'm honestly glad I did. If you like historical fiction, or appreciate a solid novel overall, I doubt you'd be disappointed reading The Eagle of the Ninth. You just have to muddle through the first chapter, and a few pages into the second one, and then you'll be on a roll.
Sunday 1 April 2012
April Fools
Here we are, the first of April, otherwise known as April Fool's Day. I really don't know why or how such a day of foolishness started, only that I remember being a kid, and playing the occasional prank, usually on Allie, and vice versa. But, sometimes, Allie and I would team up, and we'd play a joke that was worth remembering... Like this one.
We have a cousin who is former military, though he was still in the Army at the time Allie and I dared to pull this prank. At one point in time, our family used two coffee makers, but one of them was for tea. My cousin had spent the night, and forgot that it was April Fools. Allie and I got up, as we had school that day, and offered to make his coffee before he got out of bed. So she and I went downstairs, and for some reason, my memory tells me that the coffee and tea were already made and in their pots. We took a small pitcher out of the cupboard, poured the coffee into it, poured the tea into the coffee pot, and then poured the coffee into the tea pot. We poured some "coffee" into a mug, added sugar, added cream, and waited. I'm not sure if my cousin was a tea drinker at the time (I don't even know if he does to this day), but I can honestly say that he was pretty darn disgusted when he went to take a swig of coffee, and he ended up with a mouthful of tea instead. April Fools.
Omar, you might remember this one...
In grade six, my teacher foolishly decided that he'd leave the classroom for a few minutes and allow the class to play whatever pranks they wanted on him, just so we could get it all out of our systems. Good for him, giving us the chance to get it all out, but he stupidly left his Tim Horton's coffee in the classroom. One of the guys in my class had a bag of black jellybeans, and he slipped a couple into the teacher's coffee. So, after our ten minutes or so was up, the teacher came back in, and looked for the obvious pranks, like stuffing bits of chalk into the erasers. Satisfied that he'd found everything, he picked up his coffee, and went to the board to start the day's lesson. Just imagine the look of disgust and horror and anger when he went to drink his coffee and discovered that it had been tainted. Yeah, the rest of that day was pretty miserable. You see, that coffee was supposed to be his first of the day, and when he couldn't drink it, oh man, was he ever pissed off. But, I think he admitted that it was a pretty good prank, he was just going to be cranky to us for the rest of the day. Totally worth it though.
And there you have my two biggest April Fools memories. Happy pranking, everybody!
We have a cousin who is former military, though he was still in the Army at the time Allie and I dared to pull this prank. At one point in time, our family used two coffee makers, but one of them was for tea. My cousin had spent the night, and forgot that it was April Fools. Allie and I got up, as we had school that day, and offered to make his coffee before he got out of bed. So she and I went downstairs, and for some reason, my memory tells me that the coffee and tea were already made and in their pots. We took a small pitcher out of the cupboard, poured the coffee into it, poured the tea into the coffee pot, and then poured the coffee into the tea pot. We poured some "coffee" into a mug, added sugar, added cream, and waited. I'm not sure if my cousin was a tea drinker at the time (I don't even know if he does to this day), but I can honestly say that he was pretty darn disgusted when he went to take a swig of coffee, and he ended up with a mouthful of tea instead. April Fools.
Omar, you might remember this one...
In grade six, my teacher foolishly decided that he'd leave the classroom for a few minutes and allow the class to play whatever pranks they wanted on him, just so we could get it all out of our systems. Good for him, giving us the chance to get it all out, but he stupidly left his Tim Horton's coffee in the classroom. One of the guys in my class had a bag of black jellybeans, and he slipped a couple into the teacher's coffee. So, after our ten minutes or so was up, the teacher came back in, and looked for the obvious pranks, like stuffing bits of chalk into the erasers. Satisfied that he'd found everything, he picked up his coffee, and went to the board to start the day's lesson. Just imagine the look of disgust and horror and anger when he went to drink his coffee and discovered that it had been tainted. Yeah, the rest of that day was pretty miserable. You see, that coffee was supposed to be his first of the day, and when he couldn't drink it, oh man, was he ever pissed off. But, I think he admitted that it was a pretty good prank, he was just going to be cranky to us for the rest of the day. Totally worth it though.
And there you have my two biggest April Fools memories. Happy pranking, everybody!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)