5 Short Stories About the Past Week

So much going on around here, yet nothing is happening, so a few short stories:

1.  It's wildfire season in Alberta.  This happens every year as soon as the snow is gone, and we pretty much take it in stride.  The air quality goes up and down, depending upong prevailing winds.  Helicopters and water bombers buzz overhead at all hours. The one highway in and out of town often closes.  These things happen.  But nothing like what has happened to the community of Slave Lake, southwest of here, has happened in my 30 years in the North (you can read more here).  The wildfires breached town limits on Sunday night, and it is estimated that between 30 and 50 percent of the community is little more than ashes right now.  Thousands have been displaced, many losing everything they had.  The damage is still being assessed, so what we can do to help is still sketchy, but I would encourage anyone who wants to help to give to the Canadian Red Cross, who are operating several evacuation shelters in the region.

2. There are still strange men with hammers banging on my house.  Our condo board decided 3 years ago to replace the windows, doors, and exterior siding on our townhouses.  This year, it is our turn. So there are strange men in and out of my yard, pounding on the walls at 7:30 in the morning.  And they are trampling my garden.  I am becoming a little testy.  Pretty soon, I'm gonna be that old woman out in her nightgown yelling "Hey you kids, git offa my petunias!"  We are about two weeks away from being done, if I don't chase the boys off with a rake one of these fine days.

3.  The garden is thriving in spite of the construction dudes.  I know I'm not supposed to plant before the May long weekend, but I rarely follow rules like that.  Besides, about 70 percent of my garden is perennial, so I really have little to no say when things start growing.  And growing things are!  I have already harvested a bit of rhubarb, and we've been eating chives since the end of April.  The strawberries are flowering, and the buds are on the crabapple tree.  The onion sets are in, and the root veggies planted.  Once the construction is done, my spinning oasis should be good and green and waiting for me. 

4.  About 10 years ago, a pair of robins nested in the spruce tree outside our gate, and we have had robins in our yard ever since.  I was thrilled about two weeks ago when they showed up again.  This year, they are raiding last years crabapples from the high branched that I didn't get to before the snow.  The birds swoop in and try to grab the crabapples on the fly, since there are two fascinated cats watching from under the tree, but robins are not known for their swooping and grabbing prowess.  This means that there has been a sporadic rain of squishy, rotten crabapples being dropped on the construction dudes.  I feel this may be Karma in action.

5.  Would you trust me with your offspring?  I hope so, because, as of last Thursday, I am now leading the Kids Mini Fibre Camp at Fibre Week.  (Because coordinating the workshop program,  teaching for the Master Spinner Program, hosting the fashion show and saving the world is not keeping me busy enough when I am in Olds.)  The instructor originally lined up will be unable to make it,  and there was a sudden surge in interest in the camp, so we decided to look for someone to take it on.  After a rather brief contemplation of the options, I decided that I wanted to play.  Then reality set in.  Well, panic, really.  How can I keep 8 kids busy for 2 days??

Teh Interwebz to the rescue!  I have been inspired to felt, dye, spin and weave with the gaffers, and I'm designing some pretty awesome projects now.  Two days is nowhere near long enough to do all of the projects that are flowing through my mind now (...perhaps we shall have to bring back the weeklong format next year.  Hmmmm... I have the power to do that!)

I'm still teaching Level 3 of the Master Spinner Program as well and I have some fun stuff planned for the kids there, too.  Only 5 weeks left until Fibre Week, and I'm getting pretty excited!  And it's not too late for you to register, either, but you'd better check it out quickly, because we make the final decisions on class cancellations if they aren't filled by June 1st--I would hate to see someone miss out on a class because they waited too long!  Check out the website for more details.

Of course, there is much life to be lived between now and then.

And maybe a few more short stories...

Excuses, Excuses

"Why hasn't Michelle been blogging?"

"I hope she's okay--do you think she was hit by a bus?"

"Has she been travelling?"

"Maybe she slipped through a wormhole, and is now living in another dimension where there is more time in a day?"

"If so, she should have time to blog..."

Yes, I can hear your thoughts as you ponder yet another drought on this blog.  The truth is that I have been busy.  Doing...stuff.

Stuff like knitting this shawl...

Queen Anne's Lace by MMario KKnits (Ravelry link) out of the yarn that I featured in this post.  Obsessively knitting all 165 rows of the chart, each row different enough to drive a sane woman mad.

Or stuff like knitting this shawl...

Swallowtail by Evelyn Clark.  Made with Kid Seta mohair/silk blend.  For no apparent reason, except to answer a question for a friend. 

Or stuff like spinning and plying 300 g of alpaca/silk/cashmere blend into 970 yards of  sportweight yarn, with another 300 g to go.  Or stuff like spinning three bobbins of singles in BFL/silk blend, worsted weight.  Or stuff like knitting and frogging and knitting and frogging my apparently never-to-be-finished Penelope top. 

Of course, I've been doing all of the usual stuff, too, like cooking, and laundry, and driving a teenager to and from work.  And dealing with the destruction construction crew that is doing the renovations on the outside of our townhouse. And walking the dog and getting the garden ready.  You know, stuff.

Important stuff.

"I think Michelle sounds a little defensive, don't you?"

"Yep, I think she is listing all of these things she has done to hide something else..."

ALL RIGHT! I CONFESS!!

I have been doing all of this stuff, I really have.  But the real reason I have not been blogging is, well, because I have a new love.  Her name is Esmeralda, and I have been spending every spare moment with her...

It's true what they say about riding a bicycle by the way...it's as if I've never stopped, even though I haven't been on a bike for over 20 years.  I had forgotten how free you feel, with the wind in your face and your feet pedalling like mad.   I had forgotten how far you can go under your own steam, and how the world looks from the seat of a bicycle.  I'm just a wee bit enamored of the whole thing right now.

So, I do apologise for not keeping you updated on all of my doings for the past month, but...

With or Without U

For those of you who haven't noticed, I'm a Canadian gal.  (I was told once that I didn't LOOK Canadian, so I thought I should clarify this.)  I am proud of the fact that I was born and raised in Canada, and I am happy to live in our polite, multicultural, albeit wintry, nation.

But, being a Canadian who travels to and sends written articles to the US, and teaches visiting American students, I am beginning to feel very conflicted.  Not about political differences or economic issues.  No, I am conflicted about the letter U.

You see, even though Canada and the US are joined at the hip geographically, economically, and culturally, there are some subtle, yet oddly profound differences in our languages. And herein lies my struggle.

These differences are as a result of the fact that Canada remained an outpost of the British Empire for much longer than the US did.  Our language and spelling are still influenced by the Queen's English.  There are a lot of little ways this shows itself in my everyday life, but as someone who is sharing fairly specialised information across the border, it is beginning to stress me out.

One big one:  Americans say "zee", Canadians say "zed".  This causes me no end of stress when I am teaching in the US.  I speak casually of inserting zed twist into your yarns, and I am met with blank looks.  Not every time, but often enough to make me feel self-conscious.  So I try very hard to say zee, or translate after I have said zed.  It feels awkward, or rather, I feel awkward.  Especially when someone very kindly informs me that it is okay to say zed, because they know Canadians talk funny.

Then there is "re" versus "er", most notoriously, in my life anyway, in fibre.  Or fiber.  Spellcheck will not acknowledge "fibre", no matter how many times I reset the freakin' preferences.  That little red ziggy line appears every time.  When I typed in a Google search for a fibre source,  I used to get "Did you mean fiber?" (They have fixed that, but it used to bug me.  A lot.)  And the same thing happens when I type theatre, and centre.  I know a lot of people who have given up on "re" and just joined the "er" crowd.  I'm just not ready to go there yet.

But I'm really ready to say goodbye to the superfluous U.  It lurks in words like colour and honour and splendour.  It takes a whole extra keystroke to create, and it makes words look...old-fashioned.  There is a certain visual symmetry to letter-o-letter-o-letter that I prefer.  I'm done with that U, and I merrily type away, ignoring it's existence (and overriding my English (Canadian) Spellcheck setting).  And here lies the crux of my dilemma.

As a linguistically patriotic Canadian, who will not surrender her "re" words, who thinks turning "light" into "lite" is sheer laziness, who says "zed" with pride, how can I justify excluding the Canadian U?  This somehow feels like a betrayal of the language I was raised speaking, or at least writing.   I am often corrected by Canadian editors or web designers when I spell color "wrong".  I am so torn.  But I think that U is a pain in the a**.

Now, I have nothing against U as a general principle.  Without U, a lot of words would become ridiculous.  Who has ever heard of a nicorn, or a nicyle.  And a lot of words would change radically without it.  Our would become or, making possession very ambiguous: our house would become or house.  In fact, without U, it would become or hose.  Totally different.  But color is still a word describing a hue (or a he, without U), just like colour.  An honor is still high praise, even without the U.  There are some places I just don't like seeing that U, places where it just seems unnecessary.

So, as I prepare handouts for SOAR, as I blog, I struggle.  Do I stay consistent with my "pure" Canadian spellings and put that stupid U in there?  Or do I compromise all of my other Canadianisms by leaving it out and spelling the words the way I like them.  Or do I throw caution to the wind and mix and match as I please?  The last is what I want to do, but it smacks of a descent into chaos.  Without consistency, language loses its meaning.

U no wut I mean?

Protest to Party

Outcry to celebration.

When people come together in peaceful protest, sometimes good things happen.  One of those good things happened today.

I wrote earlier this week about the cuts to music programs at Keyano College, and about the planned protest this afternoon.  A group of students who were about to lose their classes and a group of people who care about the Arts and Arts education came together and there was...music.

There were strings...

...and brass...

...and spontaneous jamming.

There were signs...

...and more signs.

And the best part?  The College issued a press release stating that due to the public reaction to their decision, the Board of Governors would be reviewing the situation and seeing what can be done to save the programs in question.  And then they threw in free hot dogs, cookies and hot chocolate for the protesters.

We left after about an hour.  It was getting chilly.  But the young musicians headed to the street corner in front of the college and held a bit of a party.  They waved at passing vehicles, and played music and danced.

A week ago, we were a community about to lose its music.  Tonight, I have hope.  These kids are going to rock our world!

Please Don't Stop the Music

Another rant, no fibre content at all.  But if  I do not speak out for my fellow artists, who will?

The local Institution for Higher Learning, also known as Keyano College, announced their new operating budget on Thursday of last week (March 31).  This spanky new budget included some new programs, such as a Wildlife Management Diploma, a Community Wellness and Addictions Diploma, and Pre-Employment Carpentry.  All wonderful new educational opportunities.  BUT...

...they also announced that due to a freeze in Provincial funding, they would be "suspending" their full Music Diploma Program and their Music Instrument Repair Program.  The four full-time faculty members of these two programs were laid off.  There were no other program cuts, and only three others laid off in the entire institution--all of them support staff.

Now, this is a problem for me for several reasons.  First of all, it's always the Arts programs to go when the money gets tight.  This time it was music, but the last time the budget was bad at this particular institution, it was the Visual Art Program that got nailed.  The Arts are always considered "fluff" by educational institutions, usually due to low enrollments.  Yes, I realize that the demand for advanced training in music in Fort McMurray is not as high as the demand for truck-driving certification, but a balanced education, and a balanced school, should have room for both.

And I would like to point out that the funding for this program was not cut by the Province.  It was simply deemed to be needed elsewhere by the College.  The money  that had formerly taught local young people to play and repair musical instruments is now going...somewhere else.

So you may be thinking, "No great loss--those kids have other opportunities to learn music.",  and you are right.  But this will mean travelling away from home, finding living accommodations and attending institutions that cost the family far more, both financially and emotionally.  Not everyone is ready to leave home for university at 17, and not everyone can afford to.  Now they have no choice.  And once those kids leave, very few of them come back.  We are sending our next generation of local musicians and teachers away to other communities, leaving no young minds to come and keep us old fogies from getting mired in the way things have always been done.   Or just retiring.  Or dying out.  The youth of a community is its future, and we are sending our youth away to centres that still offer opportunities for them to explore their talents.

My second reason for standing up to speak is this: the Music Instrument Repair Program is unique.  It is the only program of it's kind in Canada, and is regarded world-wide as one of the finest.  There is one other program like it in North America.  In Iowa.  That's it.  Students have come from Japan, Germany, and Australia to attend this program, and are now making the world sound much better by keeping those instruments in tip-top condition.  When someone last flung statistics at me, this program had a 94% graduate employment rate.  There was a demand for this program.

However, Keyano College in its wisdom, points out that completion of a training program is not a requirement to work in the musical instrument repair field, therefore training technicians in these skills is not necessary.  This reasoning leaves me speechless, especially since I work for a program that grants a college diploma that has absolutely NO useful application when it comes to being employable in ANY field (except, maybe, teaching for the Master Spinner Program).  A program, I might add, that has had incredible support from Olds College, and continues to have it in spite of the fact that Olds College did not get any funding increases from the Province either.

It seems to me that at one time, there was no need to be formally educated in education to become a teacher, either, but that demand for more skilled and trained teachers meant that teacher training had to be developed.  And education became more standardized, more reliable, and more accessible.  The same applies to nurses, to welders, and even to truck drivers (all of whom are trained at Keyano).  It seems very short sighted of Keyano to say that offering a standard training to instrument repair technicians is pointless.  And shouldn't we take the approach that no education should be considered a waste, especially if we ARE educators?

My last reason for speaking out now is that people I know have been thrown out of jobs.  I do have a bias here.  My friends have been hurt.  People who have brought music and joy and friendship into my life have been impacted, as have their families.  There is nowhere else in town for these people to find work in their fields, so they will be leaving, along with those young people who would have been their students.  This means, among other things, that Fort McMurray will be losing a hell of a jazz combo.  Not to mention the volunteer hours these people have put in with the Community Band and Choir, local high school students, and other community commitments.  Four vital, active members of a pretty small and close-knit Arts community are packing up to leave us. 

There is hope, though.  A group of effected students and supporters of the Arts are rallying at Keyano on Thursday to show their support for music in our community.  The details are here on Facebook, or you can tune into 103.7 Mix FM for information.  And if you can't come out and sing along with us, you can call or email the college to let them know how you feel. 

If we do not support our local artists, pretty soon our communities will become very bland, quiet, and soulless places to live.  And who wants to live in a place like that?

Make 'Em Laugh

That's what the old song says.  It has always seemed like sound advice to me.  So, with that in mind, I decided to try something new.  Laughter Yoga.

I do "regular" yoga--Hatha yoga, really--on a sporadic basis, and I have been exploring Yin Yoga, which I really like, so Laughter Yoga was not such a far stretch.  My yoga guru and good friend Heather, who operates the Ananda Center for Balance here in Fort McMurray, was offering a Laughter Yoga Leader training workshop.  It just all came together.

Seven other intrepid souls and I joined Heather for two days of breathing, laughing and stretching, and it was AMAZING.  And the best part is that I am now certified to lead others in the practice, so I don't have to stand around laughing by myself.  (I figure if I am in a group, it is less likely that I will be carted away by the men in little white coats...)

Laughter Yoga is not like your standard yoga, where you twist yourself into a lot of shapes that not even pretzel dough could achieve.  You simply stand, or sit, and do a series of exercises designed to enhance your breathing and lift your spirits.  The technique was developed by an Indian medical doctor, Dr.  Madan Kataria, after he noticed that patients with a positive attitude recovered faster.  He started out using jokes to get people laughing, but the jokes wore thin pretty quickly.  He then developed methods of getting people to laugh for no reason at all, starting with making laughing sounds like ho, ho and ha, ha, ha.  It seems that the body does not differentiate between laughter that is real and laughter that is pretend.  So we pretend to laugh, and soon, for most of us, we are laughing for real.

And we laugh.  And laugh.  The literature for the program tells us that 10 minutes of healthy laughter is the equivalent of 30 minutes on a treadmill.  I believe that--after the multiple sessions over the course of the workshop, I was exhausted.  And exhilarated!

We also addressed letting go and playing.  Many of the exercises in Laughter Yoga are designed to release a childlike sense of wonder and play.  We wore silly hats and played make-believe games.  And laughed.  Looking into the eyes of someone who is laughing will set off another spate of laughing, too.  So we laughed some more.  It was a marvelous release, and I really do feel better for having laughed so hard for so long.

I am now working to laugh alone, though I still feel a little self-conscious laughing at myself in the mirror.  It came much more easily today, and I suspect tomorrow will be even easier.  I'm a laughing fool.

There are 8 of us who are certified to lead LY now, along with Heather, and we have founded a LY Club here in town.  It is free for anyone who wishes to attend and the details are on Ananda's website.  Our inaugural session will be on Sunday, April 17, 3-4 pm.  And for those of you who are planning to come to Fibre Week, there will be laughter there, too.  The where and when TBA.

So, if you see me dancing around, clapping my hands and laughing like a loon, do not assume that my cheese has finally slid off my cracker.  I'm just doing yoga.

...And On A Brighter Note

Whew!  I'm glad I got that off my chest yesterday.  We now return you to our regularly scheduled fibre blog:

Hey!  Wanna try something new?  If you happen to be free on Friday afternoon, come play with silk and shibori.

I will be leading a workshop called Get the Fibre Bug at the Haxton Centre here in Fort McMurray as part of their Art in Nature program.  The program runs weekly on Friday afternoons from 1:30 to 3:30, and this Friday, March 18, it will be all about the insects we love to spin, weave, and dye with.  We will work together to tie our own one-of-a-kind shibori scarf while I natter on about silk worms and sericulture, how we process and spin silk, and the different types of silk available to us.  Then our scarves will go into the dyepot and we will explore the wonders of cochineal, that wonder bug that gives us the most glorious reds.

And the best part?  It's absolutely FREE!  You heard me, free.  And you get a spanky scarf to take home at the end.  How can you beat that?