Love my Kindle

Totally enjoying my new Kindle and currently reading a book that I originally downloaded as a sample called, "Confessions of a GP". Light, funny, and simply told from a young man's point of view of his every day encounters as a family doctor. Gosh, they sure have to deal with some loo loo's.

Enjoying Every Moment

The countdown is on. There are officially four weeks left of school for Rick and my contract at EY is done on July 22nd. We have booked our flights home for 19th of August and with our “Going out of Business” party and sale over and done with, we are starting to concentrate of what else we need to either sell or donate to charity and what we can take home. Rick is interested in going in a “boot sale” to try our luck selling some of our things. Purely for the experience, he says. And for my Canadian friends a boot sale is not a sale of boots and shoes but a type of garage or yard sale only from the trunk of your car (or at least what you can transport to the sale in the trunk of your car). The Brits are nuts about their boot sales and I have to confess that throughout our travels in this country, we have stopped and done some poking around and managed to pick up a deal or two ourselves. My favourite purchase to date is our wok for 2 pounds which I use to cook stir fries with on a regular basis or my “Dickies” rain jacket brand new tag still attached for 5 pounds. The coat has proved to be very useful for camping.

The weeks have flown by and we had a terrific break with my aunt and uncle at their new caravan, just south of Ludlow, during Rick’s final school break at the beginning of June. The weather was fine, and as I anticipated, we spent a lot of time outdoors going for walks around the lake and playing games of bocci and bowls. We drove to Wales and visited the Elan Valley Reservoir, in the county of Powys near the town of Rhayader. What a spectacular journey that was. We stopped at four of the reservoirs, which incidentally were built to supply the city of Birmingham (which is about 100 miles east) with fresh water. Wales is such a rugged country and there is an abundance of sheep wandering the hills and snoozing or munching on the side of their narrow roads. The air was very fresh and it felt good to be hiking and soaking up the scenery. We still have not been able to figure out their language, however. The closest we have come to translating is their “Araf” signs painted on the roads which means “slow” but the rest is so riddled with consonants that it is next to impossible to even attempt to figure out. We generally just end up sounding like a couple of horking fools, tripping over our tongues and left in a fit of laughter at how ridiculous we sound.

We also managed to catch up with MFC (my fav cousin) Stephen, and his wife Amanda, and Alice the Warrior (their teenage daughter) for lunch in Worcester. It certainly has been great being able to reconnect with my family and say, hey want to meet up for lunch at such and such and catch up where we left off the last time we visited?

The summer party, as I mentioned, that I planned for the recruitment staff at EY was a huge success and apart from the grief that the boating company’s accounts payable clerk gave me over our bill, let’s just call her Barracuda Betty, we drank, ate and were merry as we plugged along the Thames. I spent so much time with my head out the window taking photos of this and that along the way, that I suddenly understood why dogs do this in a car. The wind in my hair and the smell of the murky water turned me into a slobbering wide-eyed puppy. It was London from an angle I had never seen before. Needless to say, I got lots of sloppy hugs when I left for the night and was presented with a fabulous bouquet of flowers from the Senior Management team and all around appreciation for arranging the shin dig. It was nice to be appreciated.

My final bit of excitement lately was cashing in on a gift certificate that Rick got me for Valentine’s Day. I had my hair and makeup done at a studio in London and had a one hour photo shoot session with a professional photographer. It is hard not to feel self conscious about some part of your body and or face once you reach 45, and I really didn’t want to end up looking like “mutton dressed up as lamb” either so when it was all said and done and we were viewing the photos the next day, I was really happy (and surprised) with the outcome. These were photos I could be proud of and not embarrassed to show my kids. I also tried to soak up every aspect of my night at the studio because I thought when will I ever get the chance to do something like this again? So my initial apprehension of receiving this gift turned into another great life experience here in the UK.

P.S. Today is our 9th Wedding Anniversary. What an amazing adventure this has been. Love you the most, Ricky xo

Something to Celebrate

Rick’s final school break is here and we had a rocky start to his holidays. On Thursday night, we attended his Year 11 prom and had a wonderful time with his students and fellow teachers. However, at the event Rick noticed that his stomach was upset and was running off to the toilet that evening. By the time we got home at 11:30pm whatever was not sitting well with him was in a fit to get out of his system and from then until just this morning, he was man down. I ended up calling our doctor’s office as he was doubled over with abdominal pain on Saturday morning and after the doctor-on call spoke to Rick, she figured it was a virus and he would just have to ride it out. The good news is that this morning he had some toast and jam and then lunch and for the most part is looking and feeling much better.

With the week off, we planned to spend some time with my Uncle Keith and Aunt Mally at their new caravan in a holiday park in Herefordshire which is on the Wales’ border. There will be lots of hiking, biking, and perhaps some touring of the area but overall this will be a very relaxing holiday for us. Either way, I do hope to also do some chilling out and reading from my new Kindle (Rick’s gift to me for my birthday). Also not sure how much more we will see of my family as our time here is narrowing quickly.

Our vegetable garden is looking great and although it pales in comparison to the patch at home, it sure is nice to wander out there and pick fresh lettuce and radishes for dinner. We call it our 20 foot diet. It is also something that Rick really enjoys doing and working in the soil is a good way for him to forget about his mountain of school work.

Speaking of which, he put in his resignation on Friday. This feels somewhat unsettling for me as a teaching job with KPR, as we just recently discovered, is not going to be easy for him to secure. I am returning to my former role with the School Board but it is really disconcerting when he has put so much energy and time to return to no employment prospects.

In addition, Rick is a terrific teacher and for him to have been successful in a very challenging job makes me very proud. This was solidified when the students would come over and chat with me at the prom and tell me what they thought of Sir or Mr. T. I could hear it in their voices that they genuinely respected and often “hated” him. One of them even asked me how I could stand being married to him! I told her it wasn’t always easy but I knew that what I learned from Rick has made me a stronger and better person. She actually agreed that through Rick’s tutelage, she was considering career options in the field of Science that she probably never would have thought of before. I did also add that it was his ability to make me laugh every day and that life is never boring with him that keeps me interested. She found that all pretty amusing. I just think it is nice for kids to see another more human side of their teachers too.

I am continuing to enjoy my contract with Ernst and Young and it is so exciting be a part of a team that is dedicated to finding the best and brightest folks to join the company. My job is to coordinate weekly assessment centres and it is very much being an event’s planner. I have to make sure we have the appropriate assessors for the candidates based on their area of specialism in Financial Advisory, the proper rooms for interviews, group presentations, candidate welcoming, and an assessor base for the day. The look and the feel of the day needs to be seamless and smooth and present a professional image to our visiting candidates but also to the assessors who are existing Senior Manager and Partner and Directors of the firm. Sometimes my week can be a mad dash to the finish line to get the catering and refreshment sorts, assessment tools addressed, amongst cancellations and rearrangements but I absolutely love the rush. The best part is when I get to go out into our fabulous front reception with massive wall mounted flat screens flashing EY updates and greet the nervous “would-be’s” and put on a show for the day. I have even had a handful of Canadians come through the doors and I am sure hearing a familiar accent and a meeting a friendly face from home eased their interview jitters.

Despite that we are a hard working bunch of ambitious recruiters, we know how to have fun and love to hit a pub of a Friday night. Now how British is that? So I was pretty happy when I was approached by the Head of Recruiting to organize a boat cruise for them on the River Thames in June to mark the celebration of 4,000 hires. Not 40 or 400 but 4,000!!! I know how crazy these folks are on dry land so what is it going to be like on a cruiser? And for those of you who recall my days of belting out my infamous tune, “Did I Shave my Legs for this?” you will be happy to know that I am also booking karaoke for the party. I can hardly wait to introduce my EY friends into a “Bevie thinks she is a country star” moment. Stay tuned as I am sure I will have lots of photos to share after June 23rd.

Age is a Royal State of Mind

Funny, but I have never really thought of myself as being older even though I am approaching 45 this May and Keaton will be 20 in July. They say that age is a state of mind and perhaps this is why I still find myself stuck in a time warp between the boys hanging out in the park behind the house on Milford drive, having an Easter egg hunt at the farm, and being an empty nester of sorts and touring the English countryside. I struggle sometimes with doing the right thing for everyone and what feels right for me. Having children presents a natural obstacle in life. Not that that is a bad thing. It is what it is. I love my kids; all four of them. I miss being a family too. But being here in the UK has certainly been a very freeing experience. No mounds of snow to deal with each winter, stacking wood, and freezing my bum off in the middle of February. I especially don’t miss dealing with my ex and his crap (aka his lovely girlfriend) and I am sure anyone who has an ex out there will confess that they too wished that they lived at least an ocean away from them. So back to the age thing. Do you remember when you were say 18 or 22 and you never really gave the actually length of your life any thought? I know that it didn’t really hit me until my mother-in-law announced that she was selling her place and moving into a retirement residence. It happens to all of us. If we are lucky. How could I be so ignorant to believe that life would go on and on with no ending? How arrogant of me. And some of you may say, hey, I would trade you for 45 but when I stopped to think of how close that is to 50, I feel a little freaked out, I must say. But I have no regrets, to be honest. I have raised my kids to be pretty descent citizens, I have their love and respect, I have a spouse that is by no means perfect (and who wants perfect anyway) but is the right partner for me. And now I’ve had the chance to experience life from a whole different angle. I wonder what it will feel like when I get back home.

We are enjoying our last fews months here and recently did an overnighter just outside of Bath in a lovely B&B in Bradford on Avon. Totally feel in love with this village and especially enjoying the train ride though the valley into the city of Bath. Very picturesque. Then this weekend we camped (yes my Canadian friends, camped) in north Essex at a a place called Gosfield Park with a terrific lake and a church that rang the bells on Easter morning while I scrubbed our breakfast dishes. We had a couple of days checking out Suffolk county and absolutely loved the thatched roofs, the narrow and winding roads and hey a beer and wine festival along the way. Sweet deal. And during Rick's last term break we did a four night stay in Benidorm, Spain, and that in itself is a story I am very much looking forward to sharing when we get back home.

So this weekend coming up is the Royal Wedding and Rick and I are at odds about this one. I know he thinks it is a waste of time and it is only two people getting married but I just can't help feeling special for being here while this historical event takes places. I wonder what William's mom would say about her boy tying the knot? Would she approve of his bride-to-be, Kate? And speaking of age, would Diana say, my goodness where did my little man go and for heaven's sake I could be a grandmother soon? But she can't and he will never know. And somehow this makes me even more thankful. Because I may be an ocean away but my kids still make my heart sing and even if I am moving onto the closer side of 50, who the hell cares? Is is not about what the good Lord has given you and making the most of it all? Bloody right, it is.

So for all of you fence sitters out there that have always wanted to do something in particular with your life, what on earth are you waiting for? You will never have enough money, it will never be the perfect time, it will never be easy, it will never involve no sacrifices, it will never make everyone happy, but it will be the one thing that when you get to the end of your life you will never regret.

So on 29th of April when Wills and Kate have the Royal kiss and wave to the public, I will most likely be a sappy fool. It is mostly about being a mom and realizing that at 20 my boy is really not that far off either and more about being here to witness it just like I did when his mom married old "what's his name". And that my friends whether you care about the whole scene or not is just another page in "The Adventures of My Canadian Ass".

I can see me reading this part over again while I am relaxing amongst the roses and wisteria in the gardens of my English retirement home.

Genie in a Bottle

Rick had the most unbelievable and unexpected belated birthday surprise today and I wanted to share the email he sent to our good friend, Stan, to tell him about it.

Here it is:

OK, it's Wednesday night, and as usual, my next few hours will be filled with marking and lesson planning. Team teaching demands that you have full lesson plans for almost every lesson, and "coursework" (taking the place of tests AND exams) means that you also have endless marking. The students are allowed to hand in an assignment as many times as necessary before it passes. Each unit has about 15-20 pieces of coursework, there are two units in a year, there are 60 students in a class, and they hand in every assignment an average of 3 times... well, you do the math.

As a bonus, our science team was "observed" the other day. Observations are very stressful, and you're marked from one to four, one being the highest. You only need to do a few things wrong to get a four, and after that, it doesn't matter if your students are setting each other on fire, or they've decided to string you up... you still get a four. As our team teaching is quite tight, we got a two, which is almost unheard of in our school. Getting a good observation rating has been very difficult since the new principal, Jane, came to our college. She's very structured, lives by OFSTED (the government school rating body) rules, and has little time for teachers who she considers to be inadequate. Between her expectations and my workload, I ended up spending the week off in February simply working on catching up and developing new lesson plans. Not that we could have gone anywhere... Bev has been out of work for 3 months and things tend to be pretty tight around here. Given that it was my birthday in the middle of the week off, however, didn't add to the enjoyment. In fact, it really only added to the stress.

To help forget the endless cycle, I thought that I'd really treat myself. There's an island off the west coast of Scotland that has one road, one pub and one distillery. They make four different kinds of scotch, and the 3 that I've tasted have all been excellent. However, as a fan of the smoky peat flavour which is a characteristic of that area's scotches, I really wanted to pick up a bottle of their top of the line. The island (and distillery, and scotch) is Jura, and the scotch is called "Prophecy". It clearly announces on the box that it is "profoundly peated". It was to be my birthday treat.

There was only one place that I knew I could get it. Go through the Dartford tunnel, battle the traffic to get to "Lakeside" shopping center and find the specialty scotch shop. Did they have it? Absolutely. Did I buy it? The fifty plus pounds for a bottle of scotch, no matter how wonderful, was impossible to justify when that would buy groceries for a week and a half. Maybe another day, I thought, when Bev was working...And so, it was left to my imagination.

Today, I went down to the main lobby to wait for the students. We were going on a field trip to the seaside to do population studies of organisms in the littoral zone. As I waited, the ladies at the front desk told me, "Mr Teather - there's a package here that was delivered for you". I occasionally order necessities like science ties or hard to find lightbulbs online, but had not ordered anything lately. Needless to say, my interest was piqued. The box was a good size and a hefty weight. I had no idea what was inside. As I opened it, a large box wrapped in bubble wrap fell into my hands. Unwrapping it, I almost dropped the entire thing on the floor. In my hands was a factory sealed, original packaging bottle of Jura Prophecy. I was (and you can imagine how hard this would be for me) speechless. Underneath the box was a card with my name on it. Opening it, I found this: Dear Rick. Wishing you a very happy birthday (sorry it is a bit late). We hope you enjoy. A little gift to give you a little smile :)

It was signed "Jane and Megan", my principal and vice principal. I had mentioned my birthday story in passing to Megan last week, but never thought she really took notice. Clearly, it had more impact than I had envisioned, and now, I'm sitting here typing this with a small glass of one of the most wonderful scotches I've ever had. What an unbelievable surprise. I should probably be happier about the 2 in our lesson observation, but this memory will far outlast that one.

A Date Worth Remembering

I can honestly say that I will be glad to see the back side of February. The weather has been mostly bleak and damp and when the sun has crept out from behind those stubborn clouds, I rush to our bedroom window to try and catch some rays on my face. I really believe that we need to have sunshine in our eyes and on our faces otherwise we, or at least I know I would, stay in bed and each carbohydrates until I was bursting.

The good news is that with the overcast skies comes the mild temperatures and the flowers are popping up like crazy right now. Our little flower beds are pickled with the beginnings of tulips and daffodils. And just last week, Rick cut our lawn and we had barbequed hamburgers for his birthday dinner on the 17th. Rick commented on how often his birthday parties as a child were spoiled because of a winter storm and there we were munching on burgers and fries. Still it was an odd birthday for Rick this year. He turned 58. It is hard to believe that such a youthful and vibrant guy is almost 60 and I can’t help but think how short our lives on this earth really are.

Okay, I won’t get too introspective now, but I look at Rick and I still see that spunky guy that met me in the Martini bar 11 years ago on a date I thought would go as all of my other dates before him had gone….badly. But to my surprise, he was not only funny, really funny, but he asked me questions no other man had asked me on a date before. I know what you naughty minded folks are thinking and no they weren’t about that. Anyhoo, he asked me what was my idea of a perfect date, how many pairs of shoes did I own, and what I thought of roller coasters. It was more like a job interview, to be honest, instead of a date. Despite his interrogation, we proceeded from the martini bar to dinner, even though we had only just originally agreed to drinks.

The restaurant happened to be void of any customers and Rick’s line after we ordered our meal of “you can’t imagine how much it cost me to empty this place for you” has been a source of debate over the years. I say it was coincidence and he claims it was arranged. Either way, it led us to his car, after we enjoyed a meal together in the quiet restaurant. We bolted there actually. No, we weren’t trying to nip out without paying our tab; a sudden storm meant we had to dash into his car before saying goodnight and thanks for a lovely evening and all that junk.

We sat listening to the rain hitting the roof and pouring down the windows and he kissed me. He placed one hand on the small of my back and drew me in for what will always be a magical moment for me. I was sure that lightening had hit his car and funnelled through our seats, spun up my spine and zapped my lips. In fact I said out loud, “What was that?” and he replied, “Electricity” confirming my suspicions, that I had been struck. Gosh, I know this all sounds so corny, but honestly when I recall our first date, our first meal, and then our first kiss, I still get the tingles.

Because ultimately my friends our lives spread out in front of us like a fan (another one of Rick’s lines) and it was that kiss that allows me to watch the flowers sprouting up and smell the fresh cut grass in February. And it was Rick turning 58 that made us reflect on how interesting our lives have been together so far and, more importantly, what on earth are we going to do with what the good Lord will continue to provide to us?

I have included some photos taken during our recent trip to Rochester which is known for its connection with Charles Dickens.

Sir, Sir but I don't understand Sir...

Today has to be the most beautiful sunny and mild day we have had in weeks. The sky is a brilliant blue, there are big white fluffy clouds in the sky and the grass is a thick green blanket in our back garden. I wonder how the folks at home are managing this winter and I hear that there has been a big storm in Peterborough and that there was a snow day this week. Funny but Channing put something on his Facebook page the other day about it being -25 and he said he had forgotten how cold it was back home. I wrote back that I was content in my forgetfulness.

The last time I wrote in my blog I asked you folks to let me know what you wanted to know about our lives here in the UK. Our friend Darcy (or Fooch as Ricky calls him – which makes me wonder how on earth he got a nickname like that. I recall a "McGootch" added to the end of Fooch but I am still no further ahead with resolving this puzzle) asked about Rick’s life at school. I thought that was a great suggestion and I would ask Rick to write a blurb but honestly folks he would not have time to do this. So let me begin by giving you some idea of how I see his life as a teacher here in the UK.

Rick’s days are long. He walks to school with this massive pack on his back. It is amazing that he doesn’t throw his back out with the weight of the bloody thing. He leaves our place at 7:50 am and it is only a 10 minute walk to the Leigh. I see this as a good thing because at least he is getting 20 minutes of exercise per day instead of driving to work and getting none. He generally gets home again between 6:00 pm and 7:00 pm as he stays at the school for detentions (and believe me there are no shortage of those), helping students with their course work, to attend staff meetings, call parents, that kind of thing. When he gets home the first thing he does is make himself a scotch and then another one. The number consumed is in direct correlation to the degree of grief he has had from the little darlings that day. After supper, he has to make more phone calls to parents to explain why their little Johnny won’t get his GCSE (don’t even try and get me to explain this for your Canadian people but I think it is like our credits in secondary school) because he uses his time in class to check out Utube videos or keeps talking in class. Then he has marking to do and he literally has a mountain of this. This is no exaggeration, my friends. Each of his classes has 60 students, yes 60, mind you they do team teach with 2 other teachers but I won’t get into that right now. And they do what is known as course work instead of occasional assignments at home and then the final exams. So course work means that there is constant marking for him. It is not unusual for him to be up early on a weekend marking and preparing lessons plans. Our weekends revolve around how much he has to complete for school and we do try and squeeze in some fun time so that he gets a bit of a break.

From my point of view, I think the most challenging thing for Rick would have to be the kids that are unmotivated, lazy, and really don’t see how lucky they are to have the access to good education like they do. In addition, the Leigh is an exceptionally well equipped school, state of the art modern building and when Channing was a student there he was blown away by how amazing the facilities really were. Brand new Mac computers, lovely bright open classrooms, extensive football/rugby pitches, and there are many dedicated and terrific teachers on staff. Funny, but there are a high number of Canadian teachers working at the school, so when Channing was there he was taught by mostly Canadian staff. Not that that should be an issue, I just found it ironic that we come to England for him to be taught by Canadians.

Now I get that there are lazy and unmotivated kids at home too, but what I see here that I don’t think is so rampant at home is the attitude that someone else will take care of me. I see it when people leave garbage on the sidewalks, on the platform, in the trains, on the buses, in the parks. The Brits seem to be of the mindset (and I am sorry to generalize as I do have some great British people in my life and they are not like this) that they don’t need to get an education and work because the government will look after them. And believe me, there is a lot of assistance here for unemployed people. Housing benefits, child care benefits, council tax benefits, and the list goes on. Gee, why would anyone want to put an effort in learning something as stupid and irrelevant as Science, or Math, or English, when they can leave school at 16 and have their flat paid for and get job seekers allowance? And the babies! Gosh, I don’t think I have ever seen so many woman (maybe I should say girls because most are teenagers to be honest) pregnant. There are no problems with declining enrolment here, folks. They are breeders and I am not just saying one or two and generally they are mixed races. Now please don’t misunderstand me I am not against interracial relationships or marriages, it is just kind of odd to see a young woman pushing a buggy down the street with one White child, one Black, and another Indian (don’t worry, it’s okay to say Indian here). There are big families living in tiny houses and I think it would do my head in if I had a life like that. Which makes me wonder if they leave their garbage on the floor and hope that gosh I don’t know who, hey maybe they could pick it up? Now that is silly talk now isn’t it?

Okay, so you are probably all wondering where the good bit in all of this is and I often struggle with how Rick does this every day. Firstly, as most of you who know him well will agree that he is a never surrender type of guy. But to be truthful, although the job is exceedingly more difficult than it is at home, he is challenged. He calls teaching at the Leigh “boot camp” and he truly believes that anything after this will be a breeze (or maybe we are just naive) and his next teaching assignment he will be a whiz with classroom management (mind you I think he is already) and having a class with less than 60 students at a time, will be a piece of cake. I also see that Rick genuinely wants to make a difference for these kids even if they can be difficult. He loves his subject and really wants the kids to feel the same way too. Why just last weekend we were shopping downtown and this young lad about 16 or so came up to us and said “Hey, Sir, I am revising for Biology” and he pulled out his text book from his pack. It was Saturday and the boy was studying Biology, I thought? He was one of Rick’s post 16 students and he was telling us that he had an interview at a university next week to gain entrance to become a teacher. Rick joked with him in his usual goofy way that I see makes the kids gravitate towards him and it actually made me really happy to see them talking like that. It was a special moment for me. My guess is that it was even more so for Rick.

So I guess with teaching here it is like casting out a massive net and most times you haul it back in and there's nothing. But sometimes you cast it and a couple fish get stuck. And the marvelous part is that when you finally catch them and reel them in you realize how grateful you are for not turning your boat around and sailing for home all the other times it came back empty.