Today was the first official day of Fiddle Frenzy. It was worrying to see how many people were knackered by the time the evening concert came along. LOL, doesn't bide well for the rest of the week.
Once again I find myself stuck between two ability groups. They've renamed the slow group to 'improvers'. There's a HUGE gap between that and the intermediate. I tried both, and could almost keep up with the intermediate. I've been burned too many times though, so am being conservative and sticking with improvers. Another lady sitting across from me feels the same way. She was laughing at break time and telling me that she could see my eyes literally glaze over after the umpteenth repeat of the same phrase. I'd rather walk away with a few tunes though, than frustrated with a bunch of half learned tunes I never get around to learning properly. Next year...
I was surprised at just how many familiar faces I saw today! I recognise almost everyone! Even Kate came back, which was a GREAT surprise as we get along so well. Knowing people takes a certain strain off the whole experience. I don't think I'll find this year nearly as overwhelming as last. Not dealing with jet lag or culture shock might make a difference too ;)
After the concert we headed to the dance. Unfortunately it was held in a different location this year, so the majority of people disappeared somewhere in between. At around 11, we heard that there was a session going on in the hostel lounge, so I ran up to the dorm to grab my fiddle (and PJs), and joined them. So if this entry is a little disjointed, it's because it's nearly 1am and I've had an eventful day.
Sunday 5 August 2012
Saturday 4 August 2012
HOW do you pronounce that?!?
I finally made it to Jarlshof! It was a great way to get back into the Shetland 'groove'.
The Shetlands are a bit of an intriguing mix. Even though it's technically part of Scotland, it's not very long ago that it belonged to Norway. The Vikings and Norse have left a strong influence, which melds with the Pict and Celtic heritage.
Jarlshof is a small site, but the way they've excavated it is fascinating. They've peeled away different layers, so that you can see the evolution of the buildings and archeological influences through history. I know it may not SOUND that interesting, but it really is when it's used as a backdrop to paint the daily lives of the people.
I love how most sites in the UK have free audio guides, so that your eyes are free to roam as you walk along, and you can use all your senses to soak it all in. The smell of the sea air, the magnificent landscape, the rolling brogue of the commentator interspersed with wild and unusual music.
The Shetlands are a bit of an intriguing mix. Even though it's technically part of Scotland, it's not very long ago that it belonged to Norway. The Vikings and Norse have left a strong influence, which melds with the Pict and Celtic heritage.
Jarlshof is a small site, but the way they've excavated it is fascinating. They've peeled away different layers, so that you can see the evolution of the buildings and archeological influences through history. I know it may not SOUND that interesting, but it really is when it's used as a backdrop to paint the daily lives of the people.
I love how most sites in the UK have free audio guides, so that your eyes are free to roam as you walk along, and you can use all your senses to soak it all in. The smell of the sea air, the magnificent landscape, the rolling brogue of the commentator interspersed with wild and unusual music.
Free Fiddle Instruction
So the guy who used my distraction to get onto the airplane with his violin unimpeded turned out to be really nice. He's the musical director for the Melbourne Scottish Music Club. Very passionate about making fiddling accessible to all. He made sure that there was an overhead compartment free for my fiddle.
Because our flight had been delayed, we all missed the bus. For some reason, the inter-community buses on this remote island only run every so many hours. Luckily there were also people here for a Shetland Sheep conference trying to get to Lerwick, and we all shared a taxi.
Later that evening, Matthew (Ozzie) tracked me down and put me through my paces with the concert sets we'd been emailed in prep for Fiddle Frenzy. Thank you Sinan for convincing me to work on them when I would have stayed FAR away, or I would have been REALLY embarrassed! I just might be able to participate in the concert after all, as long as we start off nice and slow.
Because our flight had been delayed, we all missed the bus. For some reason, the inter-community buses on this remote island only run every so many hours. Luckily there were also people here for a Shetland Sheep conference trying to get to Lerwick, and we all shared a taxi.
Later that evening, Matthew (Ozzie) tracked me down and put me through my paces with the concert sets we'd been emailed in prep for Fiddle Frenzy. Thank you Sinan for convincing me to work on them when I would have stayed FAR away, or I would have been REALLY embarrassed! I just might be able to participate in the concert after all, as long as we start off nice and slow.
Thursday 19 July 2012
Where does the time go?
Tomorrow is the last day of school. As usual, I'm not quite ready for it. In one sense, I'm much more prepared for it, as reports went out last week, and I've had only my class to focus on bringing to a closure. However, perhaps because I've only had my kidlets for the last 6 months, I'm [not sick of them yet?]
My days are very exciting as a Year 1 teacher ;) We don't exactly have a lot of formal planning done for this week, so I've reverted to my fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants approach, which usually results in my best teaching. Tuesday I decided to do a lesson on multiplication. Some are ready, some aren't. They can all count in two's though, and relate to Noah's ark, LOL. For those that are ready, they've got new excitement for maths, and have embraced the whole concept, transferring their understanding to multiplying by 10's, 5's, 3's, and in one case, 15's. Not bad for 6 year olds.
I've also discovered the joy of randomly choosing a book from the bookshelf, and being able to create whole lessons instantly, as I read the story to the class. For example, we read a story about Percy the Park Keeper who was trimming the hedge maze, and presto - they're all addicted to solving mazes. Focus on quiet table work the last week of school is NOT a bad thing.
Today was the Year 6 leaving do. Spent a couple hours after school playing volleyball, which was a BLAST! As usual, I tend to throw my whole self into the game, so I may be a little sore tomorrow, and covered in a few bruises. No children were hurt during the making of this film. However, my broken wrist arm hurts for the first time since it fully healed a few years ago. Not a good sign for my violin playing. I don't think I've done any permanent damage. It just doesn't twist very well because of the two different bone lengths, and that's what's hurting. Two weeks until Fiddle Frenzy.
Tomorrow will be the final assembly to say goodbye to the Year 1 teacher I've been mentored by over the last few months. It will be a sad day. She's one of those people that is so good at her job that you know it's a calling. That the kids come first, and she truly loves them. I have benefited so much by working with her, and wish that I had more than 6 months to glean off of her. She'll be back a day or so a week next year, so luckily it's not a final goodbye.
My days are very exciting as a Year 1 teacher ;) We don't exactly have a lot of formal planning done for this week, so I've reverted to my fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants approach, which usually results in my best teaching. Tuesday I decided to do a lesson on multiplication. Some are ready, some aren't. They can all count in two's though, and relate to Noah's ark, LOL. For those that are ready, they've got new excitement for maths, and have embraced the whole concept, transferring their understanding to multiplying by 10's, 5's, 3's, and in one case, 15's. Not bad for 6 year olds.
I've also discovered the joy of randomly choosing a book from the bookshelf, and being able to create whole lessons instantly, as I read the story to the class. For example, we read a story about Percy the Park Keeper who was trimming the hedge maze, and presto - they're all addicted to solving mazes. Focus on quiet table work the last week of school is NOT a bad thing.
Today was the Year 6 leaving do. Spent a couple hours after school playing volleyball, which was a BLAST! As usual, I tend to throw my whole self into the game, so I may be a little sore tomorrow, and covered in a few bruises. No children were hurt during the making of this film. However, my broken wrist arm hurts for the first time since it fully healed a few years ago. Not a good sign for my violin playing. I don't think I've done any permanent damage. It just doesn't twist very well because of the two different bone lengths, and that's what's hurting. Two weeks until Fiddle Frenzy.
Tomorrow will be the final assembly to say goodbye to the Year 1 teacher I've been mentored by over the last few months. It will be a sad day. She's one of those people that is so good at her job that you know it's a calling. That the kids come first, and she truly loves them. I have benefited so much by working with her, and wish that I had more than 6 months to glean off of her. She'll be back a day or so a week next year, so luckily it's not a final goodbye.
Monday 4 June 2012
A teacher and an archivist walk along a wall...
Day #1: a teacher and an archivist walk along a wall... It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.
In reality, we haven't seem the wall yet. Today was all about travel. Up at 5am, and to the train station! Actually, I can't believe how much we've packed in already!
We switched trains in Newcastle, where 21 Scotsmen joined us. 2 of them sat with Zoe and I and kept us entertained until our stop in Corbridge. We almost couldn't get out of the station because Zoe had left her ticket on the train, but they were nice enough to hand it out the window, just as the train was pulling away from the platform.
After hiking into town (usually the train stations ARE downtown), we dropped off our bags at the B&B and headed for our first Roman site, Corbridge Roman Town. It was sort of like the central nerve system for the northern defence. Because it's a bank holiday, they had an archaeologist turned potter on site, talking about and demonstrating Roman pottery. The kids (and the teacher and the archivist) got a chance to try our hand at some mould work. Now we need to figure out how to carry two wet clay bowls with us for the rest of the trek.
I'm definitely in good company though, because Zoe proceeded to crawl through the tunnels under the grainery floors. I stuck to clambering over the walls. They would NEVER let us do anything like that in Canada! Yay for living and breathing history!
In reality, we haven't seem the wall yet. Today was all about travel. Up at 5am, and to the train station! Actually, I can't believe how much we've packed in already!
We switched trains in Newcastle, where 21 Scotsmen joined us. 2 of them sat with Zoe and I and kept us entertained until our stop in Corbridge. We almost couldn't get out of the station because Zoe had left her ticket on the train, but they were nice enough to hand it out the window, just as the train was pulling away from the platform.
After hiking into town (usually the train stations ARE downtown), we dropped off our bags at the B&B and headed for our first Roman site, Corbridge Roman Town. It was sort of like the central nerve system for the northern defence. Because it's a bank holiday, they had an archaeologist turned potter on site, talking about and demonstrating Roman pottery. The kids (and the teacher and the archivist) got a chance to try our hand at some mould work. Now we need to figure out how to carry two wet clay bowls with us for the rest of the trek.
I'm definitely in good company though, because Zoe proceeded to crawl through the tunnels under the grainery floors. I stuck to clambering over the walls. They would NEVER let us do anything like that in Canada! Yay for living and breathing history!
Wednesday 30 May 2012
5 days and counting until Hadrian's Wall
Our 4 day hike along Hadrian's Wall begins on Monday. Hadrian's wall was/is a 73 mile-long (stretching across the width of Great Britain), 10 foot thick, ten foot tall stone wall built two millennia ago by the Roman legions, who were attempting to conquer the UK. They made it as far as Scotland, where they built the wall to protect the Roman Empire from the "barbarians" who had slowed their Northern expansion. Being a little limited with time (halfterm break), we will hike the visible portion of the ruins in the more scenic interior.
I've been reading "A Walk Along the Wall" by Hunter Davies, in an attempt to better understand the trek, the history, and the people. I picked it up at a second hand book store in London a few months ago. It was written in 1974, but since the wall had been built around 100AD, I figured that it was hardly outdated. It's been a fascinating and humorous read, hearing his take on all the research HE'd read, and hearing his insights into it as he examined the Wall Country himself. (Remember that there are Roman town ruins, bath houses, forts, tourets, barracks, and museums displaying the tools and treasure hords along the way as well). However, every time I read about some exciting side attraction -such as the shop that sells hand-knit unwearoutable socks, or the medieval feast at a local castle- I find that it has long since disappeared into the mists of time.
I'm getting excited. I have many loose ends yet to tie with only an action packed few days in which to do it. This IS the Queen's Diamond Jubilee weekend.
I've been reading "A Walk Along the Wall" by Hunter Davies, in an attempt to better understand the trek, the history, and the people. I picked it up at a second hand book store in London a few months ago. It was written in 1974, but since the wall had been built around 100AD, I figured that it was hardly outdated. It's been a fascinating and humorous read, hearing his take on all the research HE'd read, and hearing his insights into it as he examined the Wall Country himself. (Remember that there are Roman town ruins, bath houses, forts, tourets, barracks, and museums displaying the tools and treasure hords along the way as well). However, every time I read about some exciting side attraction -such as the shop that sells hand-knit unwearoutable socks, or the medieval feast at a local castle- I find that it has long since disappeared into the mists of time.
I'm getting excited. I have many loose ends yet to tie with only an action packed few days in which to do it. This IS the Queen's Diamond Jubilee weekend.
Saturday 19 May 2012
How to cover an entire county in one day
I can't believe how much we've done in the last 24 hours. right after school on Friday, my aunt and I met at the car hire agency, and headed for Devon, to explore the land of our 500 year-ago ancestors.
I was incredibly surprised at how comfortable I felt sliding behind the wheel. Especially considering I have not driven in 8 months, and the last time I did, I white-knuckled it down the "wrong" side of the road.
First adventure... I surprised my aunt with Stonehenge. It sits majestically right beside the carriage way. The grey, drizzly sky was the perfect backdrop.
This morning, we got up early and saw our working farm B&B in full daylight. Gorgeous. We could smell bacon wafting upstairs, which made me think of mornings visiting my grandparents on Saltspring Island.
After breakfast we headed for Dartmoor to follow in Sherlock Holmes' footsteps. We rounded a bend up on the moor, parked the car, and hiked up to what turned out NOT to be Hound Tor, the inspiration for Sir Conan Doyle's "The Hound of the Baskervilles". Oh. Back in the car, and on again.
We had lunch at a roadside "Hound of Basket Meals" food truck, conveniently parked in by The real Hound Tor, then continued on towards Merrivale prehistoric village.
After an hour of weaving down single lane (but beautifully flowered) "highways", finding pullouts to avoid on-coming vehicles, the sat nav led us to a dead end. We decided to head back for Sidmouth and a nice cream tea with the famous Devonshire clotted cream.
On our way to Sidmouth, we stopped off at The Donkey Sanctuary. Aunt Cindy is a donkeyholic, and made it a requirement ;) Coincidently, my school sponsors one of the donkeys there, Little Vijay. He works with children with disabilities. It was MUCH larger than I expected, and really well laid out, with many interactive areas. A donkey sanctuary somewhere in Ontario apparently visited a few years ago, to help them plan their own facilities.
Sidmouth is your typical seaside holiday town, with many shops, and a great ocean-side boardwalk. It is framed by red sandstone cliffs, full of hidden fossils.
On our way back to the farm, we swung through Ottery St. Mary, where we know for certain that two of our ancestors lived. There was a wedding at the church, so we decided to investigate the gravestones tomorrow. We did however stop at a cute little pottery shop, where we bought a few very decently priced pieces (including a rock that cracks open to show an ammonite fossil, just for my little kidlets).
Back on the farm, we arrived just as the wife was headed down to the barn with a gigantic bottle of warm milk for the excess lambs. Obviously I decided to tag along! Greedy little things, but so soft and wooly! Can't wait to get home and update my fb photo!
After the lambs, the husband let out his collies and took me around the farm on his quad. From the top of the hill, you could see the whole farm on one side, and Ottery St. Mary on the other. It was fascinating seeing his dogs work the sheep. He's lived on the farm his whole life, his dad before him, and his grandfather before him.
I was incredibly surprised at how comfortable I felt sliding behind the wheel. Especially considering I have not driven in 8 months, and the last time I did, I white-knuckled it down the "wrong" side of the road.
First adventure... I surprised my aunt with Stonehenge. It sits majestically right beside the carriage way. The grey, drizzly sky was the perfect backdrop.
This morning, we got up early and saw our working farm B&B in full daylight. Gorgeous. We could smell bacon wafting upstairs, which made me think of mornings visiting my grandparents on Saltspring Island.
After breakfast we headed for Dartmoor to follow in Sherlock Holmes' footsteps. We rounded a bend up on the moor, parked the car, and hiked up to what turned out NOT to be Hound Tor, the inspiration for Sir Conan Doyle's "The Hound of the Baskervilles". Oh. Back in the car, and on again.
We had lunch at a roadside "Hound of Basket Meals" food truck, conveniently parked in by The real Hound Tor, then continued on towards Merrivale prehistoric village.
After an hour of weaving down single lane (but beautifully flowered) "highways", finding pullouts to avoid on-coming vehicles, the sat nav led us to a dead end. We decided to head back for Sidmouth and a nice cream tea with the famous Devonshire clotted cream.
On our way to Sidmouth, we stopped off at The Donkey Sanctuary. Aunt Cindy is a donkeyholic, and made it a requirement ;) Coincidently, my school sponsors one of the donkeys there, Little Vijay. He works with children with disabilities. It was MUCH larger than I expected, and really well laid out, with many interactive areas. A donkey sanctuary somewhere in Ontario apparently visited a few years ago, to help them plan their own facilities.
Sidmouth is your typical seaside holiday town, with many shops, and a great ocean-side boardwalk. It is framed by red sandstone cliffs, full of hidden fossils.
On our way back to the farm, we swung through Ottery St. Mary, where we know for certain that two of our ancestors lived. There was a wedding at the church, so we decided to investigate the gravestones tomorrow. We did however stop at a cute little pottery shop, where we bought a few very decently priced pieces (including a rock that cracks open to show an ammonite fossil, just for my little kidlets).
Back on the farm, we arrived just as the wife was headed down to the barn with a gigantic bottle of warm milk for the excess lambs. Obviously I decided to tag along! Greedy little things, but so soft and wooly! Can't wait to get home and update my fb photo!
After the lambs, the husband let out his collies and took me around the farm on his quad. From the top of the hill, you could see the whole farm on one side, and Ottery St. Mary on the other. It was fascinating seeing his dogs work the sheep. He's lived on the farm his whole life, his dad before him, and his grandfather before him.
Sunday 8 April 2012
Aye, the Isle of Arran
I've had a brilliant visit with Jill so far... It couldn't get any more Scottish. I arrived Friday in the early afternoon. She lives in a 2 century old house on the edge of Merkland Forest, just on the other side of Brodick Castle.
After exploring a woodland path beside a trickling stream, we drove up to Corrie, then hiked up the hill to High Corrie, where they have some of the traditional cottages. I can't remember what she called them, but they're painted white and have tar roofs.
She was busy Saturday morning, so I elected to take myself off hiking. I walked the hour into town, through the castle grounds, and along the coastline edge of a golf course, and caught a bus to Whiting Bay.
From there, there's a circular path that takes you up the mountain to some iron age cairns, a beautiful waterfall, and an iron age hill fort. I joined up with a couple on the path, on holiday from Paisley. I am sooo living in the wrong country. The deep Scottish accent is enough to make my knees melt. Perhaps living in England is simply self preservation.
By the time I met Jill back in town (thank the Lord I didn't have to climb that hill back to her place), my flat-land, London legs felt like jelly. Still managed to dance through the pain at the ceilidh that evening, though it's probably a good thing that we only had the one guy between us. To my surprise, we danced most of the same dances as on the Shetlands last summer! Strip the Willow is still my favourite.
Today was perhaps the best of all. This morning we hiked out onto the moor to see more standing stones and sheep... Sheep galore! Then this afternoon we met up with a couple other people and attended a session in a local pub. It was amazing! I've decided it's not a proper session without a whistle player and bodrahn present. It was pretty funny all coming in at the same time with our instruments, and hearing all he commotion we caused with the visitors. Another bonus of being "with the musicians"... I didn't have to pay for my orange juice.
There were another couple visitors that joined us with their instruments. The fiddler joined in all the tunes I started that the locals didn't know. And he was GOOD! Turns out he runs some huge Irish trad music organisation in the UK, that has locations in all the big cities. Oh.
We finished off the evening at a really good restaurant on the north end of the island with Stuart, the whistle/pipe player, and his mum. Incredible food, really reasonable price.
You meet the most interesting people when you travel. Audrey wrote a diary in morse code when she was 14, during the war. How cool is that? I've also found a perfect guide for a trip to Morocco. Next March. 25 deg during the day, 0 deg at night. Who's in?
After exploring a woodland path beside a trickling stream, we drove up to Corrie, then hiked up the hill to High Corrie, where they have some of the traditional cottages. I can't remember what she called them, but they're painted white and have tar roofs.
She was busy Saturday morning, so I elected to take myself off hiking. I walked the hour into town, through the castle grounds, and along the coastline edge of a golf course, and caught a bus to Whiting Bay.
From there, there's a circular path that takes you up the mountain to some iron age cairns, a beautiful waterfall, and an iron age hill fort. I joined up with a couple on the path, on holiday from Paisley. I am sooo living in the wrong country. The deep Scottish accent is enough to make my knees melt. Perhaps living in England is simply self preservation.
By the time I met Jill back in town (thank the Lord I didn't have to climb that hill back to her place), my flat-land, London legs felt like jelly. Still managed to dance through the pain at the ceilidh that evening, though it's probably a good thing that we only had the one guy between us. To my surprise, we danced most of the same dances as on the Shetlands last summer! Strip the Willow is still my favourite.
Today was perhaps the best of all. This morning we hiked out onto the moor to see more standing stones and sheep... Sheep galore! Then this afternoon we met up with a couple other people and attended a session in a local pub. It was amazing! I've decided it's not a proper session without a whistle player and bodrahn present. It was pretty funny all coming in at the same time with our instruments, and hearing all he commotion we caused with the visitors. Another bonus of being "with the musicians"... I didn't have to pay for my orange juice.
There were another couple visitors that joined us with their instruments. The fiddler joined in all the tunes I started that the locals didn't know. And he was GOOD! Turns out he runs some huge Irish trad music organisation in the UK, that has locations in all the big cities. Oh.
We finished off the evening at a really good restaurant on the north end of the island with Stuart, the whistle/pipe player, and his mum. Incredible food, really reasonable price.
You meet the most interesting people when you travel. Audrey wrote a diary in morse code when she was 14, during the war. How cool is that? I've also found a perfect guide for a trip to Morocco. Next March. 25 deg during the day, 0 deg at night. Who's in?
Tuesday 3 April 2012
Canals and Lambs
I'm in Rugby at the moment, visiting family friends (my UK parents?) LOL, I got such a kick out of the name the first time I came 6 years ago... I LOVED playing rugby in highschool... back when I was aggressive and competitive ;)
It feels soooo incredibly good to get out of my dreary, grey, rubbish-strewn neighbourhood! Coming out on the train, across the green fields was like a breath of fresh air. There are lambs and calves everywhere.
Today was amazing... we went for a walk along the canals, looking at the brightly painted canal boats. It was drizzling, but if any pictures turn out, I'll post them on fb when I get home.They're so fascinating! The people I'm visiting are both retired teachers, so I was lucky enough to have everything explained to me... the grips up the slopes to keep the horses from slipping, the repair sheds and Chandler shops, the holes under the lock keepers houses... Apparently you can rent the boats, so now I have my heart set on seeing the country by canal. We could follow the industrial history of England as we float through the locks and tunnels. Anybody interested in joining?
I've also recently moved out of the house I was living in, and into bulk teacher housing. It may sound a little regressive, but it's actually a very positive thing. 1) no more parties until 5 am, 2) I only need to take 1 bus to school (saves 30 minutes and 50% money), 3) I have WAY more space, and 4) I already have friends in the building, who share my lifestyle.
The move went incredibly well... Kimberly helped me take a couple loads on the bus, and then a lady from my church helped me move the rest. There was an evening of overlap between me leaving my house and being able to move into my room, and I had at least 5 offers of places to stay. Another lady has donated her old dishes to my "broke" cause. So far, I'm incredibly happy with my new place. I'm in the clean kitchen, there is actually water pressure in the showers, the morning sun streams through my window, and my room is so big that I don't know what to do with all the space. Yay!
It feels soooo incredibly good to get out of my dreary, grey, rubbish-strewn neighbourhood! Coming out on the train, across the green fields was like a breath of fresh air. There are lambs and calves everywhere.
Today was amazing... we went for a walk along the canals, looking at the brightly painted canal boats. It was drizzling, but if any pictures turn out, I'll post them on fb when I get home.They're so fascinating! The people I'm visiting are both retired teachers, so I was lucky enough to have everything explained to me... the grips up the slopes to keep the horses from slipping, the repair sheds and Chandler shops, the holes under the lock keepers houses... Apparently you can rent the boats, so now I have my heart set on seeing the country by canal. We could follow the industrial history of England as we float through the locks and tunnels. Anybody interested in joining?
I've also recently moved out of the house I was living in, and into bulk teacher housing. It may sound a little regressive, but it's actually a very positive thing. 1) no more parties until 5 am, 2) I only need to take 1 bus to school (saves 30 minutes and 50% money), 3) I have WAY more space, and 4) I already have friends in the building, who share my lifestyle.
The move went incredibly well... Kimberly helped me take a couple loads on the bus, and then a lady from my church helped me move the rest. There was an evening of overlap between me leaving my house and being able to move into my room, and I had at least 5 offers of places to stay. Another lady has donated her old dishes to my "broke" cause. So far, I'm incredibly happy with my new place. I'm in the clean kitchen, there is actually water pressure in the showers, the morning sun streams through my window, and my room is so big that I don't know what to do with all the space. Yay!
Saturday 31 March 2012
Home sweet home
I officially moved into my new place today (ie. I gained possession of my room, and am no longer sleeping on Kimberly's floor). There's so much SPACE that I don't quite know what to do with it! It's probably about 5 or 6 times bigger than my room on Mill Lane.
First order of business... Washing the dingy curtains. One of the benefits in having connections in your new place is learning some of the closely hidden secrets. For example, there's a way around paying for one of the washing machines in the laundry room. Unfortunately there was someone else doing her laundry when we got there, so Kimberly gave me this long-winded tour of the ironing boards, the hanging racks, the settings on the machines... The other girl must have either thought we were both dense, or felt really sorry for me. Lol.
First order of business... Washing the dingy curtains. One of the benefits in having connections in your new place is learning some of the closely hidden secrets. For example, there's a way around paying for one of the washing machines in the laundry room. Unfortunately there was someone else doing her laundry when we got there, so Kimberly gave me this long-winded tour of the ironing boards, the hanging racks, the settings on the machines... The other girl must have either thought we were both dense, or felt really sorry for me. Lol.
Sunday 25 March 2012
Eclectic Weekend
What a fascinating weekend! Yesterday was simply amazing... The sun came out and at 19 deg, it was perfect for a walk into Romford. There's something about sunshine that is both invigorating and relaxing at the same time.
I'm also almost done my moving... One more load on the bus next week, then I'll be ready to go on Thursday night. Final cleaning on Friday, and it will be complete. Just in time for Spring Break! Yay!
Finished off my Saturday with another inspiring lesson with Trent, then into London for Kimberly's Orchestra Concert. With Trent, I learned Walker Street, "the ultimate string-crossing workout". Can't wait to show Roxanna what I've learned while she's been off enjoying herself.
The ELLSO concert was fab as well. I got completely lost coming out of the tub station and walked 20 minutes in the wrong direction before figuring out my mistake. I eventually found St. Anne's church. There are a lot of bridges, water, and steeples in that area (the directions I was following were not super clear). Despite my repeated big group class disappointments, I could easily sign up for something like that. Luckily I realise that I'm already stretched in too many directions, and am not willing to give up all my Saturdays.
After the concert, we both realised we'd missed supper and were starving. We found a Chinese Restaurant that was open until midnight down a dark street, and headed in with a little trepidation. Turns out that it was quite a high-class joint with the best tasting Chinese food I've ever had. All for a very reasonable, average price. The kind of place that takes your coat, holds your chair for you, puts your [fabric] napkin on your knee, and brings you a warm wet cloth at the end of the meal. If I had a website, I'd start a page on hidden gem restaurants... that's 3 now.
This morning, I went with a coworker to his Afrikaans church. I hadn't realised that English is taught as a second language in South Africa. I had thought that it was thoroughly bilingual (tri/quad-lingual?). Anyway, it was a really neat experience. Afrikaans seems to have a lot of German influence with a few strange twists (ex: j=rolled r, g = guttural rolled r). They laughed at me every time I used the little I'd learned on the car-ride there, but not in a mean way. I've got most of my voice back now, so it was nice to be able to sing again. I'm consistently amazed that so many churches sing the same contemporary worship songs I learned at Bethany.
Now, off to marking I go.
I'm also almost done my moving... One more load on the bus next week, then I'll be ready to go on Thursday night. Final cleaning on Friday, and it will be complete. Just in time for Spring Break! Yay!
Finished off my Saturday with another inspiring lesson with Trent, then into London for Kimberly's Orchestra Concert. With Trent, I learned Walker Street, "the ultimate string-crossing workout". Can't wait to show Roxanna what I've learned while she's been off enjoying herself.
The ELLSO concert was fab as well. I got completely lost coming out of the tub station and walked 20 minutes in the wrong direction before figuring out my mistake. I eventually found St. Anne's church. There are a lot of bridges, water, and steeples in that area (the directions I was following were not super clear). Despite my repeated big group class disappointments, I could easily sign up for something like that. Luckily I realise that I'm already stretched in too many directions, and am not willing to give up all my Saturdays.
After the concert, we both realised we'd missed supper and were starving. We found a Chinese Restaurant that was open until midnight down a dark street, and headed in with a little trepidation. Turns out that it was quite a high-class joint with the best tasting Chinese food I've ever had. All for a very reasonable, average price. The kind of place that takes your coat, holds your chair for you, puts your [fabric] napkin on your knee, and brings you a warm wet cloth at the end of the meal. If I had a website, I'd start a page on hidden gem restaurants... that's 3 now.
This morning, I went with a coworker to his Afrikaans church. I hadn't realised that English is taught as a second language in South Africa. I had thought that it was thoroughly bilingual (tri/quad-lingual?). Anyway, it was a really neat experience. Afrikaans seems to have a lot of German influence with a few strange twists (ex: j=rolled r, g = guttural rolled r). They laughed at me every time I used the little I'd learned on the car-ride there, but not in a mean way. I've got most of my voice back now, so it was nice to be able to sing again. I'm consistently amazed that so many churches sing the same contemporary worship songs I learned at Bethany.
Now, off to marking I go.
Thursday 22 March 2012
Catch that Squirrel!
How do you keep a straight face when a 6 year old suggests halfway through your ecology lesson (on the effects of cutting down a tree to the local wildlife) that we write a letter to the animals in the park explaining the situation, then walk the letter down and personally deliver it to Rustle Squirrel or Ruth Robin? *serious, outraged nods all around the class*. Instant images of coworkers dressed up in animal suits hopping around the park flashed through my mind.
Luckily they decided that writing the city council would be more effective. I'm impressed! They even considered the need for cutting down trees to make paper, furniture and homes. They went FAR beyond the simple, cute little "Rosy the Oak Tree" lesson I had planned.
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Luckily they decided that writing the city council would be more effective. I'm impressed! They even considered the need for cutting down trees to make paper, furniture and homes. They went FAR beyond the simple, cute little "Rosy the Oak Tree" lesson I had planned.
Wednesday 21 March 2012
More Fiddling
I got exactly what I asked for :) I wanted to play with others. At Folk Club intermission, I was quietly invited to a private jam session. I was told to keep it quiet, because not everyone was invited. Apparently I was invited because I've been improving so much, and he thinks that it will be really good for me to play with others. I was bubbling up the rest of the evening, incredibly excited, overjoyed!!!
Unfortunately reality hit as I was walking home. Why have I been working so hard at building a Shetland repertoire over the last 7 months? Because I spent every single Fiddle Frenzy "slow" session frustrated and feeling like a complete failure, not able to even remotely join in. I have no intention of ever letting that happen again.
How am I expecting to do any better here? I understand that the 1st, 4th, 5th notes of a key are the chords. I understand that the arpeggio of a scale makes up the chord. I understand that chopping/chucking/whatever-it's-called is supposed to happen like a snare drum, on the off-beat. None of this helps. I sit in the back, playing semi-random notes, WILLING some of them not to clash. I usually last about half an hour before the frustration and effort do me in. What is this magical ingredient needed to "jam"? Why can I not find it?
You know those kids in your class who's parents think they're absolutely brilliant? But really, YOU know that they're actually mediocre at BEST, but because they work so hard they sort-of pull it off? And that at some point, it just won't be enough? What if that's me?
Have no fear, I'll be going. Please Lord, let me be wrong. Let this finally be a positive jamming experience. Some progress... anything.
Sunday 18 March 2012
Fiddle-Dee-Dee
My regular Skype fiddle instructor is taking her Spring break at the moment. Luckily, Trent, my original Skype instructor is back from his latest tour with The Fretless (check them out, they're amazing), and is able to step in for her while she's off exploring her family roots.
It's neat playing with someone you haven't seen in a while. He says I've gotten better, which is reassuring because I haven't noticed it myself. If anything, I've felt that I've slipped a bit, not having a rigorous routine. I've been feeling pulled in many directions recently, and not making any headway in any (Folk club, worship team, Skype lessons, Sheltland - all pretty much independently, as much as they sound like group activities). He thinks Roxanna's got me practicing to a metronome (which I really should be, I'm sure), because he says my timing has improved dramatically. And I DO know that I'm picking tunes up by ear a bit faster. I'm potentially becoming a better sight reader as well. The encouragement felt good.
We had the chance to play the tune he was teaching me, Hut on Staffin Island, together over Skype. It made me realise just how MUCH I miss playing with others, as well as being immersed in music. It was like an insatiable hunger being unleashed. I must be feeling Fiddle Camp withdrawal!
We had the chance to play the tune he was teaching me, Hut on Staffin Island, together over Skype. It made me realise just how MUCH I miss playing with others, as well as being immersed in music. It was like an insatiable hunger being unleashed. I must be feeling Fiddle Camp withdrawal!
In other news, I've got my first teaching observation coming up on Tuesday. On one hand, it's good because it means my favourite school is considering me for a position next year. On the OTHER hand, my entire Essex teaching career depends on it. OK, I may be exaggerating a bit, but still.
What else? Just for kicks I'm going with a co-worker to his church next Sunday. He's South African, and the service will be in Afrikaans. They have headsets for English speakers like myself. (???)
Wednesday 14 March 2012
Emotions are so fickle
Fascinating. The first time I visited Glasgow, [the following language is stark and non-complimentary... I do not mean to offend anyone]...
The first time I visited Glasgow, I found it dirty, ugly, soulless and boring. Now, I almost quiver with delight thinking of my upcoming stop-over, on my way home from the Isle of Arran. It just seems so odd to me that my feelings can change so dramatically.
What happened in between? Celtic Connections. But it couldn't have simply been the music, could it? Was it going with a purpose this time around? Was it being in a situation that allowed me to interact with others who had common interests? Simply becoming more familiar with the surroundings?
The first time I visited Glasgow, I found it dirty, ugly, soulless and boring. Now, I almost quiver with delight thinking of my upcoming stop-over, on my way home from the Isle of Arran. It just seems so odd to me that my feelings can change so dramatically.
What happened in between? Celtic Connections. But it couldn't have simply been the music, could it? Was it going with a purpose this time around? Was it being in a situation that allowed me to interact with others who had common interests? Simply becoming more familiar with the surroundings?
Sunday 11 March 2012
People watching on a fine Spring morning
I made the conscious decision to escape my convalescence this weekend. Saturday morning I headed into London to finally make some use of my English Heritage card. "Number One, London" was my first stop, better known as Apsley House, home to the first Duke Wellington, inventor of the rubber boot and defeater of Napoleon Bonaparte.
Having been sent to an International French School as a child, I learned my history and geography as any good French citizen. Bonapart was a hero. Now, everywhere I turn, Bonaparte was the BAD guy. Other lasting impressions of Apsley House:
-the 2 story tall statue of naked Bonaparte, who's fig leaf was blown off during an air bombing raid.
-listen to the 8th Duke Wellington's childhood anecdotes on the audio tour - much more interesting than who made what changes to what room in what year
-who turns the hoof of their favourite horse into an ink pot?
-the ballroom window offers a splendid view for the exit of Buckingham Palace's changing of the guard
After Apsley house, I headed back into the tube system, only to turn around at the bottom of the stairs and come back up to the sunshine and fresh air. Best decision I made all day. I meandered through Green Park, then around the outside, admiring some of street vendor artwork. I like people watching... seeing people enjoy life. Walked past the Ritz, through Piccadilly Market, and down into Trafalgar Square.
I also finally made it into the National Portrait Gallery. I was pretty tired by then, so I only made it through a few rooms. I've learned that artists hide all sorts of hidden messages in their paintings. As a photographer, one of your aims is to know your subject, and to simplify your composition in order to draw attention to it. This guideline doesn't seem to apply to painting. The main themes seemed to be the Greek Gods and Christianity. My favourite so far is the series of 4 giant paintings by Joachim Beuckelaer representing the four elements, using a marketplace. Hidden in the background of each piece is a story from the Bible. The description said that they were painted "quickly" with large brushstrokes. It looked pretty detailed and comprehensive to me.
Having been sent to an International French School as a child, I learned my history and geography as any good French citizen. Bonapart was a hero. Now, everywhere I turn, Bonaparte was the BAD guy. Other lasting impressions of Apsley House:
-the 2 story tall statue of naked Bonaparte, who's fig leaf was blown off during an air bombing raid.
-listen to the 8th Duke Wellington's childhood anecdotes on the audio tour - much more interesting than who made what changes to what room in what year
-who turns the hoof of their favourite horse into an ink pot?
-the ballroom window offers a splendid view for the exit of Buckingham Palace's changing of the guard
After Apsley house, I headed back into the tube system, only to turn around at the bottom of the stairs and come back up to the sunshine and fresh air. Best decision I made all day. I meandered through Green Park, then around the outside, admiring some of street vendor artwork. I like people watching... seeing people enjoy life. Walked past the Ritz, through Piccadilly Market, and down into Trafalgar Square.
I also finally made it into the National Portrait Gallery. I was pretty tired by then, so I only made it through a few rooms. I've learned that artists hide all sorts of hidden messages in their paintings. As a photographer, one of your aims is to know your subject, and to simplify your composition in order to draw attention to it. This guideline doesn't seem to apply to painting. The main themes seemed to be the Greek Gods and Christianity. My favourite so far is the series of 4 giant paintings by Joachim Beuckelaer representing the four elements, using a marketplace. Hidden in the background of each piece is a story from the Bible. The description said that they were painted "quickly" with large brushstrokes. It looked pretty detailed and comprehensive to me.
Friday 2 March 2012
A Taste of Home
Having been locked in my house for three days with no voice, I decided to make a special dessert for dinner at Jenny's. [I don't know why she keeps inviting me... I'm apparently a bad influence on her daughters. It's not MY fault they like my gory riddles and smuggle their joke books to the dinner table. At least they're exercising their minds and reading.]
What is a traditionally Canadian dessert? Well, I have to admit that the first thought that came to mind was 'tire', but lacking large quantities of maple syrup and snow, I settled for Nanaimo bars. It took 3 hours, some substitutions, and a very good Joy of Cooking recipe, but I was quite pleased with the result. They couldn't have looked or tasted better had I bought them from the Great Canadian Superstore.
I think I'm starting to get the hang of grocery shopping in the UK! Eggs are in the non-refrigerated isle next to the milk; the powder milk and longlife milk isle is better stocked than the refrigerated fresh milk (at least fresh milk is commonplace here, unlike in France); sugar and cocoa is in the tea isle, and not the baking isle; and finally, you may be able to find flavoured vinegar with the oils, but white vinegar is either with the pickling supplies or down the cleaning isle.
What is a traditionally Canadian dessert? Well, I have to admit that the first thought that came to mind was 'tire', but lacking large quantities of maple syrup and snow, I settled for Nanaimo bars. It took 3 hours, some substitutions, and a very good Joy of Cooking recipe, but I was quite pleased with the result. They couldn't have looked or tasted better had I bought them from the Great Canadian Superstore.
I think I'm starting to get the hang of grocery shopping in the UK! Eggs are in the non-refrigerated isle next to the milk; the powder milk and longlife milk isle is better stocked than the refrigerated fresh milk (at least fresh milk is commonplace here, unlike in France); sugar and cocoa is in the tea isle, and not the baking isle; and finally, you may be able to find flavoured vinegar with the oils, but white vinegar is either with the pickling supplies or down the cleaning isle.
Disclaimer: photo is purely for illustrative purposes,
for those of you deprived of Nanaimo bar knowledge... it is not mine.
Thursday 16 February 2012
Ahoy from Bristol
I've had a great visit with Olive so far. When my parents and I passed through last September, I had no idea what we were missing (sorry Mum!)
The city is just full of different architectural styles from various eras throughout history. I love just wandering around town, taking it all in.
It seems that Bristol's history is tightly linked with the sea... Trade, explorers, piracy, the slave trade, press gangs.
Tomorrow we go on a self-guided treasure trail. "This trail explores the many faces of Redcliffe and Temple, from historic caves, through the industrialisation of the city to the stylish glass and steel redevelopment at Temple Quay."
The city is just full of different architectural styles from various eras throughout history. I love just wandering around town, taking it all in.
It seems that Bristol's history is tightly linked with the sea... Trade, explorers, piracy, the slave trade, press gangs.
Tomorrow we go on a self-guided treasure trail. "This trail explores the many faces of Redcliffe and Temple, from historic caves, through the industrialisation of the city to the stylish glass and steel redevelopment at Temple Quay."
Friday 10 February 2012
Strange Behaviour
I often find that as I'm in bed, trying to shut down my brain for the night, I have a song or tune running loops around the outer edges. Tonight it was [dramatically shortened] "a, e, i, o u, a vowel is in every word, that we read or write."
Children can be so strange. We affectionately term the underachieving Year 1's "Dozy Ducks". Every morning I have to cajole, bribe, entice, bully and manipulate them into staying focused and singing the alphabet and vowel song with the rest of the class (who likely don't need it anymore). Then I give them Golden Time on Friday afternoon, and the rest of the class is off playing lego or house, and my Dozy Ducks are glued to the whiteboard, fighting over who gets to use the pointer, all of them singing the alphabet song. What the bleep?
Children can be so strange. We affectionately term the underachieving Year 1's "Dozy Ducks". Every morning I have to cajole, bribe, entice, bully and manipulate them into staying focused and singing the alphabet and vowel song with the rest of the class (who likely don't need it anymore). Then I give them Golden Time on Friday afternoon, and the rest of the class is off playing lego or house, and my Dozy Ducks are glued to the whiteboard, fighting over who gets to use the pointer, all of them singing the alphabet song. What the bleep?
Sunday 5 February 2012
Huskimo Land!
Yay! It snowed last night.
I was out for a walk this morning when a kid burst out of his house at a run, arms in the air, shouting "HUSKIMO LAND! We live in huskimo land!!!" Poor kid seems a little confused. Someone should teach him that A) huskies and Eskimos are not interbreedable, and that B) they're Inuit.
I was out for a walk this morning when a kid burst out of his house at a run, arms in the air, shouting "HUSKIMO LAND! We live in huskimo land!!!" Poor kid seems a little confused. Someone should teach him that A) huskies and Eskimos are not interbreedable, and that B) they're Inuit.
Sunday 29 January 2012
Gung Hey Fat Choi
I crashed yesterday. Recovering from lack of sleep and over socialization. I know it may come as a surprise to some of you (none who have lived with me I'm sure), but as much as I love people, I'm in reality an introvert.
But that set me up for today. What a day it was! After church I headed into town to meet up with some coworkers. We'd volunteered to be guinea pigs for a new interactive treasure hunt around London. This is SO my cup of tea!!! Each team is given a BlackBerry mobile and a map. Clues are texted to you, and as you text back the answers, you receive more historical information about whatever it is you found, and then our next clue. Great exercise, especially if you're a little bit competitive. The clues were generally within about a km of each other, but we were on the go for a good couple of hours.
Following the hunt, Heather, the other dark curly haired girl from Canadia, as the Keith the Australian likes to call it, and I continued on to Chinatown and Trafalgar Square for the rest of the Chinese New Year festivities. We picked up some of those miniature sidewalk firecrackers, and got into some minor mischief with those, some sketchy chinese food from a vendor, and watched as they lit Nelson's column on fire as part of their fireworks show.
However, I am s-s-so cold. One of those wet Vancouver cold to the bone days. Maybe I'll go fill my big Paris mug with steaming hot chocolate and curl up by the fireplace with a blanket. Mmmm... I even think I still have a Sherlock movie left to watch. Can the weekend get any better?
But that set me up for today. What a day it was! After church I headed into town to meet up with some coworkers. We'd volunteered to be guinea pigs for a new interactive treasure hunt around London. This is SO my cup of tea!!! Each team is given a BlackBerry mobile and a map. Clues are texted to you, and as you text back the answers, you receive more historical information about whatever it is you found, and then our next clue. Great exercise, especially if you're a little bit competitive. The clues were generally within about a km of each other, but we were on the go for a good couple of hours.
 |
| The winning team. How rude. |
However, I am s-s-so cold. One of those wet Vancouver cold to the bone days. Maybe I'll go fill my big Paris mug with steaming hot chocolate and curl up by the fireplace with a blanket. Mmmm... I even think I still have a Sherlock movie left to watch. Can the weekend get any better?
Thursday 26 January 2012
Worship Team, Here I Come! (slowly)
I had my first Worship practice tonight. They keep giving me more music. Apparently I'm actually going to have to become proficient at reading music, and not just memorise it. Oh.
Luckily, Gavin blew it all up on the photocopier for me at the end of practice. I was having a terrible time squinting at little chicken scratch notes on a yellowed pages... it might do for guitar chords, but when it comes to a novice reading the melody line...
I can tell that I'm going to be stretched in so many ways. I feel like I'm on a journey, and I have no map. I have guides though, and have a general idea of where I'm headed. I catch glimpses of the route and destination on hill crests, and through breaks in the trees.
I'd love to describe some of my revelations and struggles, but unless you're about where I'm at on a violin, it'll mean little to you. You have my permission to tune out.
#1: I am so incredibly thankful for the few months I got to study under Trent Freeman. He was teaching me WAY above where I was at at the time (and still am, to be honest), but it's slowly starting to come together now. Maybe the most ongoing useful part of his lessons were the mini theory lessons. I learned about chords, what makes them up, and which three chords in a key go together. I learned about scales, and what a "key" was. I learned how to listen to a scale, and figure out another one by using the same note intervals. I learned that if you play the scale of whatever key you're in, you'll know your fingering for that song, unraveling the mystery of when to play a high or low 2, 3 or *shudder* 1. I learned that there was such a thing as a high 3, and a low 1. All of the above came into play today. I am still picking up snatches of theory here and there, but if feels like I pierced little holes in the knowledge barrier with his lessons, and now it's seeping through, and not quite so brand new and mind blowing.
#2: Off the top of my head, I still don't really know what note I'm playing. However, I can more readily tell you which finger goes down in relation to the little black dot on the paper.
#3: I am also incredibly thankful for people in the Church. When truly seeking God, and trying to walk in Jesus' footsteps, people seem to be more genuinely eager to share their time and knowledge, without looking for a return. It seems to be something that society (in GENERAL) has lost in the current generation, where it tends to be all about what you can get for yourself. Instant gratification, and "me, me, me".
#4: The trumpet player has to transpose all of the music, because his instrument is in the key of B flat. PS. As a violinist, I have decided tonight that I hate Bb (first encounter). ANYWAY, I think I had a revelation this evening! This is the second time I've heard of an instrument being in a different key, and the music looking different. How can a written C sound different on two instruments? I think I've figured it out! It must be like a tin whistle... When a tin whistle is in the key of D, it plays a D when all the holes are covered. So the simplest scale to play would be a D scale.
Now, to continue with my guess work, for some ludicrous reason, when people write music for a trumpet, they must write the first note in the scale where you would usually put a middle C for a piano on sheet music. Would someone who knows about music either confirm or kibosh my hypothesis? If I'm right, it suddenly all makes sense and is so simple. If I'm wrong... well, who am I kidding? I've got to be right. It's the only explanation that makes sense.
Luckily, Gavin blew it all up on the photocopier for me at the end of practice. I was having a terrible time squinting at little chicken scratch notes on a yellowed pages... it might do for guitar chords, but when it comes to a novice reading the melody line...
I can tell that I'm going to be stretched in so many ways. I feel like I'm on a journey, and I have no map. I have guides though, and have a general idea of where I'm headed. I catch glimpses of the route and destination on hill crests, and through breaks in the trees.
I'd love to describe some of my revelations and struggles, but unless you're about where I'm at on a violin, it'll mean little to you. You have my permission to tune out.
#1: I am so incredibly thankful for the few months I got to study under Trent Freeman. He was teaching me WAY above where I was at at the time (and still am, to be honest), but it's slowly starting to come together now. Maybe the most ongoing useful part of his lessons were the mini theory lessons. I learned about chords, what makes them up, and which three chords in a key go together. I learned about scales, and what a "key" was. I learned how to listen to a scale, and figure out another one by using the same note intervals. I learned that if you play the scale of whatever key you're in, you'll know your fingering for that song, unraveling the mystery of when to play a high or low 2, 3 or *shudder* 1. I learned that there was such a thing as a high 3, and a low 1. All of the above came into play today. I am still picking up snatches of theory here and there, but if feels like I pierced little holes in the knowledge barrier with his lessons, and now it's seeping through, and not quite so brand new and mind blowing.
#2: Off the top of my head, I still don't really know what note I'm playing. However, I can more readily tell you which finger goes down in relation to the little black dot on the paper.
#3: I am also incredibly thankful for people in the Church. When truly seeking God, and trying to walk in Jesus' footsteps, people seem to be more genuinely eager to share their time and knowledge, without looking for a return. It seems to be something that society (in GENERAL) has lost in the current generation, where it tends to be all about what you can get for yourself. Instant gratification, and "me, me, me".
#4: The trumpet player has to transpose all of the music, because his instrument is in the key of B flat. PS. As a violinist, I have decided tonight that I hate Bb (first encounter). ANYWAY, I think I had a revelation this evening! This is the second time I've heard of an instrument being in a different key, and the music looking different. How can a written C sound different on two instruments? I think I've figured it out! It must be like a tin whistle... When a tin whistle is in the key of D, it plays a D when all the holes are covered. So the simplest scale to play would be a D scale.
Now, to continue with my guess work, for some ludicrous reason, when people write music for a trumpet, they must write the first note in the scale where you would usually put a middle C for a piano on sheet music. Would someone who knows about music either confirm or kibosh my hypothesis? If I'm right, it suddenly all makes sense and is so simple. If I'm wrong... well, who am I kidding? I've got to be right. It's the only explanation that makes sense.
Saturday 21 January 2012
Celtic Connections cont.
I've come to a decision. Celtic Connections is amazing. I was a little disappointed in my choice last night. Should have gone to see the Punch Brothers and Carolina Chocolate Drops. Still kicking myself. At the time that I booked the tickets though, I couldn't justify three North American concerts in a row. Now that I know how the festival is structured, I'd do things a little differently.
So all you who are coming in the future, take note. What you REALLY want to see are the Late Night Sessions or Festival Club. It's WAY cheaper, and you get an excellent sampling of all the groups who will be playing over the 3 week festival. There are a couple catches... you don't know who will be playing until you show up at the door, and it doesn't end until about 4am. Which hurts when your body is programmed to wake up at 6am. A lot. Or maybe I'm just getting old.
Also, when looking at the workshops, forget whatever your main instrument is, and take a bunch of "come & try" or beginner workshops. Instruments are provided, it's fun and relaxed, and again, cheap. Third tip: come alone. It's a great way to meet people, and you'll leave with a list of "here's my contact info. Come visit" invitations. And they're genuine.
I can't believe how friendly the people are here. I ran next door for a sandwich at lunch today. The lady sitting at the next table asked me if I was drinking orange juice (?), and the next thing I know, she's writing me a list of all the different restaurants and cafes I need to try while I'm here.
Today was magical. One of the highlights was the Mandolin workshop. Soooo much fun! I now know how to hold a mandolin and plectrum properly, pluck Ally Bally Bee (sounds vaguely like Kumbaya), play the chords, and play an arpeggio slide intro and bridge thingy. I got to be in the "advanced" half of the class, because it's tuned like a fiddle. LOL.
The other highlight was the Vent du Nord and Väsen (+3 other groups) concert tonight. High energy is the place to be! Somehow they blended the Swedish, French Canadian, and Scottish styles really well. But MAN, was it hopping! It made my fingers itch to get home to my fiddle. Vent du Nord are great performers - they really know how to interact and involve the audience, and seem to be incredibly excited about being on stage and playing with their guests. I can't even begin to describe the atmosphere. Put on one of their CD's, throw on a couple other high energy CDs from other groups at the same time, then add in 2,475 people standing, stomping their feet and clapping, and that might be a start.
Honourable mention goes to an up and coming band named Rura that played yesterday at open mike. I'm checking out their myspace page right now (http://www.myspace.com/therura). The recordings on there don't have the same pulse and energy that they had live yesterday, but they were REALLY good!
So all you who are coming in the future, take note. What you REALLY want to see are the Late Night Sessions or Festival Club. It's WAY cheaper, and you get an excellent sampling of all the groups who will be playing over the 3 week festival. There are a couple catches... you don't know who will be playing until you show up at the door, and it doesn't end until about 4am. Which hurts when your body is programmed to wake up at 6am. A lot. Or maybe I'm just getting old.
Also, when looking at the workshops, forget whatever your main instrument is, and take a bunch of "come & try" or beginner workshops. Instruments are provided, it's fun and relaxed, and again, cheap. Third tip: come alone. It's a great way to meet people, and you'll leave with a list of "here's my contact info. Come visit" invitations. And they're genuine.
I can't believe how friendly the people are here. I ran next door for a sandwich at lunch today. The lady sitting at the next table asked me if I was drinking orange juice (?), and the next thing I know, she's writing me a list of all the different restaurants and cafes I need to try while I'm here.
Today was magical. One of the highlights was the Mandolin workshop. Soooo much fun! I now know how to hold a mandolin and plectrum properly, pluck Ally Bally Bee (sounds vaguely like Kumbaya), play the chords, and play an arpeggio slide intro and bridge thingy. I got to be in the "advanced" half of the class, because it's tuned like a fiddle. LOL.
The other highlight was the Vent du Nord and Väsen (+3 other groups) concert tonight. High energy is the place to be! Somehow they blended the Swedish, French Canadian, and Scottish styles really well. But MAN, was it hopping! It made my fingers itch to get home to my fiddle. Vent du Nord are great performers - they really know how to interact and involve the audience, and seem to be incredibly excited about being on stage and playing with their guests. I can't even begin to describe the atmosphere. Put on one of their CD's, throw on a couple other high energy CDs from other groups at the same time, then add in 2,475 people standing, stomping their feet and clapping, and that might be a start.
Honourable mention goes to an up and coming band named Rura that played yesterday at open mike. I'm checking out their myspace page right now (http://www.myspace.com/therura). The recordings on there don't have the same pulse and energy that they had live yesterday, but they were REALLY good!
Friday 20 January 2012
Béla Fleck and the Flecktones
I don't even know what happened last night. Honestly. My mind was blown. I don't know how to write this without gushing and sounding obnoxious. I almost didn't even go to the concert...thought I'd take it easy. Now I don't know if the rest of the weekend will live up to the standard that has been set!
I had assumed that Béla Fleck and the Flecktones was a bluegrass band. Well, they may take a few bluegrass instruments up on stage, but I can't even begin to guess at what they played! Best harmonica I've ever heard played to begin with. Yes, I know... I'm so experienced ;) His solos - all of their solos - frequently required me to remember to shut my mouth.
The bass player was absolutely fantastic! I didn't even KNOW that a bass guitar could lead the melody. He blew all preconceived notions that I had about how instruments are supposed to be played out of the water. Every minute they were up on stage, my eyes were opened to new ideas and limitations were annihilated.
His brother was the same; this big black pirate standing to the side with some weird instrument that looks like it came out of Davey Jone's locker strapped to him like a guitar. It took me three songs just to pick out what sound it was making. It was some sort of electric drum kit that he's invented, called the drumitar.
THEN, for the last song before breaking for intermission, they call out Casey Driessen. I nearly flew through the roof in surprise and giddiness! I had it in my head that he was Canadian - I've been listening to one of his CDs for the last year, in awe of the power and flexibility behind his playing. He wasn't even supposed to BE at Celtic Connections! My Canadian pride has now been crushed - he's American. But for the second half of the evening, I had the certainty that Canada was represented up on stage.
For the second half, there were 12 musicians up on stage, from around the world. Again, I frequently found my mouth hanging open, and from the reaction of those on stage, they were equally impressed by the melding and dance of music being created. It had a much more Celtic flavour to it. I wish I could list who they were, but to be honest I don't know.
I met an Austrian girl at the concert, who was likewise there by herself. Being so riled up by the concert, we joined forces and headed to the Festival Club next door for more live music. Roxanna, you'll never guess who opened. Just to continue an amazing day full of excellent surprises. Yup, Findlay Napier. You're right, he does have a nice voice. They had him turned up so loud though that both my ears were aching. I was about to take that as a sign to head home when Vent du Nord started setting up on stage.
Obviously I couldn't tear myself away at that point. Within the first song they had the dance floor full, and kept it that way for their whole set. French Candian music has a very definite flavour to it. For the very first time since moving here I felt a pang of homesickness. Alain, Marie-Maude and whoever else brought an instrument always turned our potentially boring staff parties and "retreats" into kitchen parties (who calls locking teachers out in the middle of the wilderness so they can't escape two days of meetings and planning a "retreat"?!?)
Éléa, I took one photo on my iPhone for you. I've got a very bad feeling that I'm going to be so busy experiencing this weekend that I won't be doing any photography :( Sorry. Plus, my camera doesn't do well in the dark. No idea who they are (again), but they're one of the groups following Vent du Nord. They themselves didn't even know the name of the guy on cello - some kid from New York that they invited up on stage with them. The guy on bodhran was one of the people on-stage for the last half of the Flecktones concert.
I had assumed that Béla Fleck and the Flecktones was a bluegrass band. Well, they may take a few bluegrass instruments up on stage, but I can't even begin to guess at what they played! Best harmonica I've ever heard played to begin with. Yes, I know... I'm so experienced ;) His solos - all of their solos - frequently required me to remember to shut my mouth.
The bass player was absolutely fantastic! I didn't even KNOW that a bass guitar could lead the melody. He blew all preconceived notions that I had about how instruments are supposed to be played out of the water. Every minute they were up on stage, my eyes were opened to new ideas and limitations were annihilated.
His brother was the same; this big black pirate standing to the side with some weird instrument that looks like it came out of Davey Jone's locker strapped to him like a guitar. It took me three songs just to pick out what sound it was making. It was some sort of electric drum kit that he's invented, called the drumitar.
THEN, for the last song before breaking for intermission, they call out Casey Driessen. I nearly flew through the roof in surprise and giddiness! I had it in my head that he was Canadian - I've been listening to one of his CDs for the last year, in awe of the power and flexibility behind his playing. He wasn't even supposed to BE at Celtic Connections! My Canadian pride has now been crushed - he's American. But for the second half of the evening, I had the certainty that Canada was represented up on stage.
For the second half, there were 12 musicians up on stage, from around the world. Again, I frequently found my mouth hanging open, and from the reaction of those on stage, they were equally impressed by the melding and dance of music being created. It had a much more Celtic flavour to it. I wish I could list who they were, but to be honest I don't know.
I met an Austrian girl at the concert, who was likewise there by herself. Being so riled up by the concert, we joined forces and headed to the Festival Club next door for more live music. Roxanna, you'll never guess who opened. Just to continue an amazing day full of excellent surprises. Yup, Findlay Napier. You're right, he does have a nice voice. They had him turned up so loud though that both my ears were aching. I was about to take that as a sign to head home when Vent du Nord started setting up on stage.
Obviously I couldn't tear myself away at that point. Within the first song they had the dance floor full, and kept it that way for their whole set. French Candian music has a very definite flavour to it. For the very first time since moving here I felt a pang of homesickness. Alain, Marie-Maude and whoever else brought an instrument always turned our potentially boring staff parties and "retreats" into kitchen parties (who calls locking teachers out in the middle of the wilderness so they can't escape two days of meetings and planning a "retreat"?!?)
Éléa, I took one photo on my iPhone for you. I've got a very bad feeling that I'm going to be so busy experiencing this weekend that I won't be doing any photography :( Sorry. Plus, my camera doesn't do well in the dark. No idea who they are (again), but they're one of the groups following Vent du Nord. They themselves didn't even know the name of the guy on cello - some kid from New York that they invited up on stage with them. The guy on bodhran was one of the people on-stage for the last half of the Flecktones concert.
Tuesday 17 January 2012
The Frustrations of a Mediocre Budding Musician
Yesterday, I wrote the following note to Roxanna, my Skype Fiddle Instructor:
"So I let Kimberly take me to her multi-level orchestra class last night. Don't EVER let me try another group class again. That's two very large strikes against group lessons that are supposed to accommodate people of my level. She swore that it was for level two violinists and up, and that I'd be able to handle it.
The conductor handed out sheet music to Handel's Cencerto IV in C, and we played it cold. All the way through. I could play chunks of the first and third movement (I cheated and plucked the first few bars before we got going), but couldn't have played even two notes in a row of the second of fourth movement if my life depended on it. She's been playing for 12 years and found it challenging.
Will I ever find a place to fit in? Have I simply started too late, and the ship has sailed? I love playing, but I don't want to play by myself in my own little corner. It's depressing."
However, I really have no reason to feel depressed, because tonight I had a lesson. I love that an hour of fiddle infusion sets me on fire for days on end. WAY better than any drug.
The Internet was down this evening, which sent me into a near panic. Haven't had a proper lesson in over a month. But lo, a voice from on high sung "Heather, Heather, don't forget your phone!" So we did a phone lesson instead. Worked really well! Way better connection than what I've been getting lately with Skype *disgruntled snear*. Gives new meaning to learning by ear... definitely no cheating allowed. We learned (and by "we", I mean Roxanna patiently bore with me while I learned) Calum's Road - Part B, reviewed Highlander's Revenge and how to fit the two tunes together, and learned High Road to Linton - Part A & C. With time to talk about the upcoming Celtic Connections besides.
I have been incredibly blessed with the most amazing instructors over the last couple years. [trying to keep my blog from now becoming an ad, but a few names deserve special mention] Ben Plotnick got me hooked one summer, then Trish Clair-Peck, Trent Freeman, and Roxanna Sabir kept me flying high. Even to the point of giving me Skype lessons when I can't find a local instructor. Seriously... if you play, and you ever, EVER, have the chance to meet these people, jump on it. Such genuine, encouraging, talented people. Who am I kidding? Even if you don't play, they're still worth a chat ;)
"So I let Kimberly take me to her multi-level orchestra class last night. Don't EVER let me try another group class again. That's two very large strikes against group lessons that are supposed to accommodate people of my level. She swore that it was for level two violinists and up, and that I'd be able to handle it.
The conductor handed out sheet music to Handel's Cencerto IV in C, and we played it cold. All the way through. I could play chunks of the first and third movement (I cheated and plucked the first few bars before we got going), but couldn't have played even two notes in a row of the second of fourth movement if my life depended on it. She's been playing for 12 years and found it challenging.
Will I ever find a place to fit in? Have I simply started too late, and the ship has sailed? I love playing, but I don't want to play by myself in my own little corner. It's depressing."
However, I really have no reason to feel depressed, because tonight I had a lesson. I love that an hour of fiddle infusion sets me on fire for days on end. WAY better than any drug.
The Internet was down this evening, which sent me into a near panic. Haven't had a proper lesson in over a month. But lo, a voice from on high sung "Heather, Heather, don't forget your phone!" So we did a phone lesson instead. Worked really well! Way better connection than what I've been getting lately with Skype *disgruntled snear*. Gives new meaning to learning by ear... definitely no cheating allowed. We learned (and by "we", I mean Roxanna patiently bore with me while I learned) Calum's Road - Part B, reviewed Highlander's Revenge and how to fit the two tunes together, and learned High Road to Linton - Part A & C. With time to talk about the upcoming Celtic Connections besides.
I have been incredibly blessed with the most amazing instructors over the last couple years. [trying to keep my blog from now becoming an ad, but a few names deserve special mention] Ben Plotnick got me hooked one summer, then Trish Clair-Peck, Trent Freeman, and Roxanna Sabir kept me flying high. Even to the point of giving me Skype lessons when I can't find a local instructor. Seriously... if you play, and you ever, EVER, have the chance to meet these people, jump on it. Such genuine, encouraging, talented people. Who am I kidding? Even if you don't play, they're still worth a chat ;)
Saturday 14 January 2012
Saturday Morning Ramblings
I went out for supper with some of the teachers from the school I'll be teaching at over the next 6 weeks (potentially until the end of the school year). Most of us are international citizens, so talk touched on some of our impressions of living in the UK.
This is my first morning lie-in in over a month. To commemorate it, here are some ramblings that come to mind (some that you may have heard before):
Canada is gorgeous. It's a huge country with all sorts of geography and ecosystems. I'll give you a couple examples, JUST from the West Coast. My parents live in a semi-arid desert, a few hours away, where I went to uni, it's a temperate rainforest, and directly North from them, I've been teaching just south of the Arctic circle for 6 years. The Yukon has a Winter that lasts for 8 months of the year, lots of unexplored wilderness, and changing light conditions depending on the month. Just the Yukon Territory has double the surface area of the UK, but a population of 36 000. 24 000 of those people live in the "city" of Whitehorse (that's where I lived). So that leaves 12 000 people spread out over double the surface area of the UK.
I had a sled dog pup that I trained up to pull me on cross-country skis. A lot of the Canadian stereotypes are actually a way of life in the Yukon, unbeknownst to most Canadians themselves. It was eye opening moving up there. I was completely anti-gun before moving there, and now I OWN a gun. Just a little one :P Most people don't eat if they don't hunt. It's just crazy. A gun is seen as a regular tool, like a hammer, or a sewing machine.
I do love Canada, and there's much more of it that I'd like to explore. That being said, coming to the UK has been a whole different experience. There's a sense of depth here, and roots, that is missing in Canada. It's hard to describe exactly, and even now that I've been here for 5 months I've started taking it for granted. I was reminded of it when my aunt came to visit over Christmas Break, because she commented on it too. Maybe it's the buildings. A lot of everyday buildings and homes here are older than the Dominion of Canadian itself. It's rather awe-inspiring. Maybe it's the people. People here seem to be deeply connected to their cultural identity. They can trace their families back, sometimes on the same plot of land, for 100s of years.
Frequently, when I fill out form, "White" isn't an answer (they don't use politically correct words such as "Caucasian" here). They want to know exactly what kind of "White" I am. Well, I'm a little bit English, a little bit Scottish, I have some Welsh, my family name comes from Old French (but can't be traced back further than landing in North America, so it was probably changed, and we have no idea who these ancestors actually were), my grandma is a quarter dutch, my grandfather is allegedly a quarter American-Indian... the list goes on. For some reason "White-Canadian" isn't one of the options.
It's all just a little bit of a different point of view on your life. It makes you see yourself from a different angle, and get to know yourself on a deeper level. Going back to bed now.
This is my first morning lie-in in over a month. To commemorate it, here are some ramblings that come to mind (some that you may have heard before):
Canada is gorgeous. It's a huge country with all sorts of geography and ecosystems. I'll give you a couple examples, JUST from the West Coast. My parents live in a semi-arid desert, a few hours away, where I went to uni, it's a temperate rainforest, and directly North from them, I've been teaching just south of the Arctic circle for 6 years. The Yukon has a Winter that lasts for 8 months of the year, lots of unexplored wilderness, and changing light conditions depending on the month. Just the Yukon Territory has double the surface area of the UK, but a population of 36 000. 24 000 of those people live in the "city" of Whitehorse (that's where I lived). So that leaves 12 000 people spread out over double the surface area of the UK.
I had a sled dog pup that I trained up to pull me on cross-country skis. A lot of the Canadian stereotypes are actually a way of life in the Yukon, unbeknownst to most Canadians themselves. It was eye opening moving up there. I was completely anti-gun before moving there, and now I OWN a gun. Just a little one :P Most people don't eat if they don't hunt. It's just crazy. A gun is seen as a regular tool, like a hammer, or a sewing machine.
I do love Canada, and there's much more of it that I'd like to explore. That being said, coming to the UK has been a whole different experience. There's a sense of depth here, and roots, that is missing in Canada. It's hard to describe exactly, and even now that I've been here for 5 months I've started taking it for granted. I was reminded of it when my aunt came to visit over Christmas Break, because she commented on it too. Maybe it's the buildings. A lot of everyday buildings and homes here are older than the Dominion of Canadian itself. It's rather awe-inspiring. Maybe it's the people. People here seem to be deeply connected to their cultural identity. They can trace their families back, sometimes on the same plot of land, for 100s of years.
Frequently, when I fill out form, "White" isn't an answer (they don't use politically correct words such as "Caucasian" here). They want to know exactly what kind of "White" I am. Well, I'm a little bit English, a little bit Scottish, I have some Welsh, my family name comes from Old French (but can't be traced back further than landing in North America, so it was probably changed, and we have no idea who these ancestors actually were), my grandma is a quarter dutch, my grandfather is allegedly a quarter American-Indian... the list goes on. For some reason "White-Canadian" isn't one of the options.
It's all just a little bit of a different point of view on your life. It makes you see yourself from a different angle, and get to know yourself on a deeper level. Going back to bed now.
Friday 13 January 2012
Cultural Programming
Do you ever wonder why if you add white to red (or black, if you call it
a colour), it makes a new colour, but you add white to any other
colour, and you just get a lighter shade of the same colour? It's all in
the name. Abstract. My deep thoughts for the night.
Somebody please sing me a lullaby.
Somebody please sing me a lullaby.
Tuesday 10 January 2012
Sound it out!
Gotta love phonemic spelling. Here's yet another example of how cute kids are, especially when they have an accent.
Christmas thank you letter assignment:
"Dear dad,
fuc yoo frr my toes." (thank you for my toys)
Christmas thank you letter assignment:
"Dear dad,
fuc yoo frr my toes." (thank you for my toys)
Monday 9 January 2012
Say WHAT?!?!
Do you know that I just found out that THEY ONLY WRITE REPORT CARDS ONCE A YEAR HERE? And they're ONLY ONE PAGE LONG?!? We have to do an 8 page report card THREE TIMES A YEAR back home! I don't SLEEP for the two weeks leading up to Christmas holidays. And I spend the first half of summer recuperating from utter exhaustion and burnt-outedness, then the rest of the summer pulling my house and classroom back into shape! Yes, that's right. If you calculate it out, that does indeed mean that I get no summer break.
Not only that, but they don't seem to give grades like we do back home. Now I'm treading into muddy territory and may have to make a few retractions later on. From what I understand, teachers do 3 levelings a year. Each year is divided into 3 "grades". So, at the beginning of Year 3, a child should ideally be a 3C, and by the end, 3A. Sometimes children may be in Year 3, but be at say, a 2B or a 4A level. Fascinating.
Not only that, but they don't seem to give grades like we do back home. Now I'm treading into muddy territory and may have to make a few retractions later on. From what I understand, teachers do 3 levelings a year. Each year is divided into 3 "grades". So, at the beginning of Year 3, a child should ideally be a 3C, and by the end, 3A. Sometimes children may be in Year 3, but be at say, a 2B or a 4A level. Fascinating.
Sunday 8 January 2012
Bittersweet thoughts in the morning
The problem with being a supply teacher is that you're not normally being called in for a happy reason, especially when it's an extended cover. And the better you know and like a school and its staff, the worse it is.
Wednesday 4 January 2012
Good ol' London!
I'm back home again! It was fascinating... as soon as we got off the train, you could tell that we were back in London. It was so CLEAN! And didn't smell like, well, urine.
The trade off is that I found the Parisians incredibly warm and friendly. I haven't a clue where they got their snobby stereotype. Not once did anyone pretend to not understand my accent. In fact, everyone seemed eager to strike up a conversation and ask me where I was from and what I was about.
And so helpful! My aunt and I had but to pause with a puzzled look on our face, and someone would stop their busy routine and ask us where we were headed, or what we were looking for. I'm not exaggerating... it was that quick!
Another example: we went to a shop, and though they didn't have what we were looking for, the lady got on the phone, started calling around to other shops, and THEN went next door to see if her neighbour knew what bus we needed to take to get to point B.
I was seriously impressed. That being said, it does feel good to be home again. Many thanks to Morvan, who lent us his apartment in Paris, which was an amazing home away from home.
The trade off is that I found the Parisians incredibly warm and friendly. I haven't a clue where they got their snobby stereotype. Not once did anyone pretend to not understand my accent. In fact, everyone seemed eager to strike up a conversation and ask me where I was from and what I was about.
And so helpful! My aunt and I had but to pause with a puzzled look on our face, and someone would stop their busy routine and ask us where we were headed, or what we were looking for. I'm not exaggerating... it was that quick!
Another example: we went to a shop, and though they didn't have what we were looking for, the lady got on the phone, started calling around to other shops, and THEN went next door to see if her neighbour knew what bus we needed to take to get to point B.
I was seriously impressed. That being said, it does feel good to be home again. Many thanks to Morvan, who lent us his apartment in Paris, which was an amazing home away from home.
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