Beam me to Sochi, Scotty! I've got the perfect thing to wear ...

They're soft ... they're warm ... they're so rainbow bright I really would love to show them off in Sochi (see this post for further thoughts on that) ... and I'm proud to say they're handcrafted by our dear and talented friend Diane ...

Introducing my new FAVOURITE SOCKS!

Having tried, and ultimately failed, to knit the most basic of sleeveless sweaters, I am in awe of the skill that went into these perfectly fitting socks. Thank you, Diane!!

Most of today's photos come from yesterday, when the weather was a wee bit more hospitable. Freddie and I do of course go out in the rain, but I'm currently doing quite a bit of micro-managing of his walking environment — following the guidelines of Grisha Stewart's "Behaviour Adjustment Training (BAT)*" — with the goal of reducing his dog-dog reactivity (a kind of hyper-excitement that will interfere with his eventual certification if not dealt with). Anyway ... all this to say that micro-management (clicker, treats, Ninja maneuvers) + photography + rain is a difficult combo! Most of yesterday's shots were taken during sniff breaks, when it was clear no strange dogs were going to make a sudden appearance, or during off-leash play breaks.

*Sounds like something from A Clockwork Orange or 1984 but is actually quite groovy and innocuous.

Oh dear, Gregor ... trouble in Lotusland?

The kid knows how to dress for days like this ...

Hello

Leica (the one shaking) is a rescue dog from Bosnia. 

Her new family is also Bosnian.

This arrangement was quite funny. While the black dog did power digging, Freddie and Polly tried to catch clods of sand in their mouths. Yum.

Oops. I think Freddie took a scoop of sand in the eyes.

Cypress Street Totem

Top of the Totem Pole

Morning Delivery

And here we are at the bike shop, replacing the various gizmos that were stripped from my bike sometime last week.

If anyone hears of sales or second-hand deals on dog trailers for bikes, please let me know (figures our home insurance deductible is pretty much the same as the cost of a new trailer)!

Off to do more work on Freddie's BATting average!

Parking Garage Thievery & Meditations on Loss

I really hope the scuzzbags who somehow got into our building's "secure" parking garage to steal our doggie bike trailer and our neighbour's kiddie bike trailer and strip both bikes of all their accoutrements will step barefoot in a humongous pile of (literal or metaphorical) dog poop (preferably one that the scuzzbags themselves neglected to clean up). If the goddess Fortune could somehow arrange her wheel for that to happen, I'd be grateful.

A seagull crapping on their heads at the worst possible moment would also be fine.

Or a flood in the living room ...

A bedbug infestation of all their upholstery ...

Nah, Freddie ... we really don't want them to drown.

Though a hole in the hull might be nice.

 They could probably do with some meditation 

at the beachside multi-faith mellowness cabin.

Pre-Mass confession, if they're that way inclined ...

(Is that kid wondering how she's managing to walk on those heels? I am!) 

We had good times in our trailer, Freddie.

It was a great deal on Craigslist (no, the original vendor wasn't a thief), but Paul and I will be on the lookout for something just as good.

As for my handlebar grips, lights, and rear axle ... they'll need to be replaced tout de suite.

But you know what, Freddie? It's just material shit (I know you know that; I'm reminding myself). Those things can be replaced. They're not a capital-L Loss — like what our good friend Pierre is going through right now. A couple of days ago, he said goodbye to his beloved kitty, Elsa. (Yes, one day you and I will say goodbye, too — it happens to everyone — but I hope it won't happen for a very long time, so I try not to think about it yet.)

Here's Elsa.

May her memory purr on in a patch of eternal sunshine.

The Big Green Buddha: on the educating of people and dogs

I've been teaching and (I hope) learning for a long time now.

Inside and outside of classrooms ...

In swimming pools ...

(I learned to swim properly in my 30s.)

Kits Pool gate will open again on May long weekend!

On the literal and metaphorical road & water ...

(Why can't rowing be liking riding a bike??)

  In gyms and community centres ...

(Yeah, I hate yoga, but I used to teach aerobics.)

And now, of course, in a whole variety of settings with Freddie.

If I didn't have laundry to do this morning, I could pontificate at length on the subject of education. But pontificating is probably the very least effective of the teaching strategies in my repertoire ... and the laundry basket is really too full to ignore. So I will (try to) restrict myself to a few thoughts, inspired mainly by my recent mentoring of Leah's splendid teenage son, Dug (featured in this post).

I say "mentoring" rather than "tutoring" because Dug (Grade 11) is already extremely competent in English (our focus is literary analysis) and could, I suspect, handle English 1127 at Langara College.

Yesterday we met — appropriately, I thought — under the watchful eyes of the Big Green Buddha.

Working with Dug is the ideal teaching scenario: motivated student, motivated teacher, supportive families (Leah, John, Paul), time and space aplenty. (The first of these is often a challenge at Langara, where, in 1st year English courses anyway, most of the students are taking the class because their program requires it, not because they want to.)

Lofty Ambitions

In my enthusiasm I probably overloaded Dug with too much information, but he graciously put up with me. Afterward, Leah and I took the dogs to the North Shore, and in the occasional moments of silence I pondered successes and screw-ups — my own and others' — in the world of education.

Steps and Plateaus

Enlightenment 1

Enlightenment 2

One of the important things I've learned about learning (mentioned in this post) is that positive reinforcement works.

Another (pontification alert!) is that learners need to be met wherever they happen to be. I've certainly screwed up in this respect, and perhaps that's why I'm especially alert to failures in this area — teachers who become impatient, even angry, with a student for not having mastered whatever it is the student came to the teacher to learn (and who often guard their knowledge selfishly, as something to be purchased at a very high cost). I've encountered such impatience in the academic world and, over the past year, in the world of dog training — a discipline I've come into with lots of motivation but very little knowledge or practical experience. Meeting the student wherever she happens to be might mean directing her to a different class, or even assigning a failing grade at the end of the class ... but neither of these scenarios need involve impatience, frustration, anger etc.

Enlightenment 3

  

And on that note, I must really attend to the laundry!

I leave you with a photo of our new ceiling-mounted laundry rack, expertly installed by Professor Paul. My contribution to the installation was a literary/construction joke — Q: What do you call an Irish-made ceiling beam than meanders confusingly in all directions? A: James Joist.

Spot the dog, and may all your teachings be enlightened!

Julia Child Rocks Valentine's Day

A few days ago, Paul and I received our annual Valentine card from my parents. When I was a teenager and a 20-something single, these parental cards drove me nuts. Valentine's Day is for boyfriends and girlfriends, I stoutly maintained ... or boyfriends and boyfriends, or girlfriends and girlfriends ... whatever. But not parents and kids. Gawd.

As I got older, my desire to uphold the romantic/sexual nature of Valentine's Day was gradually replaced by mild irritation with the whole commercial candy-fest side of it, and the cards from my parents, while no longer crazy-making, generally found their way into the recycling bin before long.

"Un-Valentine's / Go Canada!" is what the sign below says.

I'm still sympathetic to my younger self. When you're 15 years old and hoping to have a red carnation delivered to you in Block D by a Student Council-appointed Cupid, and that delivery fails to materialize ... well, a mushy card from Mom and Dad, no matter how well-intentioned, risks not going over so well.

Likewise, I'm still capable of rolling my eyes at the Valentine's Day mercantile shenanigans of grocery stores, auto repair shops, cell phone service providers, etc.

And yet ...

A few years ago, I read Julia Child's very engaging memoir of her years in France with the love of her life, Paul. The photo section of the book contained a few examples of homemade Valentine cards that the couple would send annually to their friends and family. The cards were fun and funny, and generally featured Julia and Paul in some kind of romantic and/or sexy pose — including one in a bubble bath with the caption "Wish you were here!"


Non-commercial ... romantic ... and at the same time celebrating love in its various platonic forms — the Child Valentine cards have stuck with me, and the more I see/experience of anger, intolerance, and general nastiness in the world, the more it makes sense to me that there should be a holiday in honour of love (not to mention chocolate).

Our next-door neighbours, Charles and Sheila, remind me a little of Julia and Paul. They hung this heart on their door not long after Christmas.   

This afternoon, Freddie and I sat in the Whole Foods courtyard, taking in the sunshine and the Valentine ambience and the various bits and pieces that blew by in the breeze ...

 

This is the pose Freddie selected for his session of taking it all in. He received a lot of admirers and managed to sneak a few kisses.

St. Valentine's Day Massacre?

Nope — just Cupid's lancet ...

... and a chance for Freddie to show his devotion

Here's this year's mushy parental Valentine, well clear of the recycling bin ...

And here — in the spirit of Julia and Paul — are Valentine greetings from Heather and Paul ... and, of course, Freddie, whose affection knows no bounds!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Joyeuse Saint Valentin!

¡Feliz día de San Valentín!