redeeming halloween.

No, I'm not talking about going to a Reformation Service or something Protestant like that (less than 1% of Quebec goes to church-- and most of that 1% is Catholic). I'm talking about the little boy I scarred by telling him that people got to old for Halloween. I bought him a chocolate bar for Halloween...I hope I don't seem like such a terrible person now.

free-spirited.

Today, while I was huffing and puffing, trying to bike up a hill, I watched a man sitting comfortably in his wheelchair in the middle of the road, whizzing past me down the hill. I was jealous.

i'm a teacher.

I'm a teacher-- the real kind--with good money and everything. Basically, all I needed was two legs and the ability to speak English. The interview consisted of my boss telling me his life history, me smiling and listening, and then a handshake to seal the deal. I do feel slightly like a corporate cop-out, since I'm teaching business people from the (soon to be) largest oil company in Canada. But I have the excuse that I didn't know that when I was contracted out.

killing childhood.

Oops. My neighbour boy came over to play with me. He excitedly told me all about his Halloween costume. Then he asked me what I was going to be. I told him I was too old to go trick-or-treating. His eyes got really big and he said, "You can get too old for treat-or-treating?" His face had a look of fear, and he tentatively asked, "How old do you have to stop?" I said 12 years old. He became very quiet and a sad look came over him as he thought about only having 5 more years to trick-or-treat. You learn a lot of hard lessons as you grow up.

Also, today I got another number from a random Quebecois boy who wanted to know where he could buy shoes (we were standing beside the mall, idiot). This number-asking is irritating. I can't figure out why this is happening! If I could, I would change! Is it because I'm a country girl in the city? Is it because I'm an anglophone in a francophone culture? Maybe I'll shave my head.

Oh! And one more thing (for people who care about politics): I went to hear Gilles Duceppe speak (for you Americans...he is the leader of the Bloc Quebecois, the separatist party). It was a wonderful Harper-Bash on Harper pulling out of the Kyoto Protocol...but even if I agreed with him, I felt a little out of place when he began also bashing Ontario and then concluded that the only way to solve any of our problems is for them to separate from Canada. Please don't ever tell my grandpa that I went-- I'll be disinherited from his will.

thanksgiving and parsley.

I love trains. Especially when they take me through forests and streams at the peak of autumn to visit my family in Eastern Ontario for the weekend. My grandma knit slippers for me. My sister baked for me monstrous peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies. My dad made me wine. My aunt cooked a turkey dinner. My mom created a care package. Mmmmm...I love family! It's so strange to be able to see them every month or two instead of 3 times per year (as has been the norm...).

On another note, my poor parsley plant. It's dying. Just like the cilantro plant that died before it. Regarding my cilantro, I understand my mistake-- I transplanted it, thereby putting it into shock, and it was dead within an hour. It was the fastest dying plant I have ever witnessed (and I've worked in a green house for 8 years and seen many plants in my time). But my parsley plant--I've given it sunlight, water, love-- faithfully attending to all of its needs. I don't understand! At least my chives are still growing strong.

carrots.

Carrots were on sale last week. I bought too many. Cream of carrot soup. Carrot casserole. Carrot Cake. I am sick of carrots. End of blog.