Snowflakes

Today it was -31 degrees Celsius and with the wind it felt like -41 degrees Celsius. That means the buses to schools don't run, and that is every kids dream during the winder months of school. The bus kids got a movie day at home and for the town kids that came to school to meant a fun gym and computer day.

Growing up I was a town kid- I lived across the street from the school so my mom always make me walk the 50 steps to school even if the buses weren't running and there were only 30 kids in the whole school.

There was one winter when I was in high school that was exceptionally warm for Saskatchewan. In the -30's but no windchill so the buses were still going. Some students were willing to do anything for a no school day because the buses were not running. So one day a few buses didn't run because someone had unplugged them so they wouldn't start. The rest of the week random buses didn't run because they were mysteriously unplugged. (I had nothing to do with the unplugging--just the story I heard in the gossip train).

Unfortunatly this did not result in a full blown no bus day when there was almost no one in school but it did mess up a lot of class schedules because a lot of students were missing.

As a teacher now I not sure how I feel about the snow days----yes it was fun to just hang out, make crafts and play in the gym today but now the whole week is bumped back another day and the weather does not look like its going to be any warmer tomorrow.....please buses run please!!!

This past summer was unlike most Saskatchewan summers. It was virtually "bug" free. The mosquito population was down, we had a few flies in our house and the wasps were out for a bit but other then that it was a pleasant summer for "bugs". A while back one summer we weren't invaded by flies, misquotes or wasps, when you went outside you had to be careful about the invasion of grasshoppers that had taken over!

While the grasshopper didn't really harm you they did destroy gardens and fields that summer and were an annoyance when ever you walked outside. Walking through the grass on my front yard each step caused the grasshoppers to jump creating a wall of grasshoppers to walk into which usually creating screaming, running and hands flying which caused the grasshoppers to jump more.

They weren't just in the grass though. The grasshoppers took over the highway. The highways looked spotted with black dots as you drove along with dead and still living ready to jump "hoppers". The 27km drive to the city sounded like you were driving in a hail storm with all the grasshoppers that were jumping and smashing into the front of the car and on the windshield. Everyones car was a tint of green that summer.

I got out one day to capture them on film. Interesting little creatures. I hope we never have another invasion again though.

This is the first September that I will not be returning to school as a student. I am now on the other side of the desk as a teacher. It felt strange this year not to get ready for another year of university- picking classes, buying textbooks and stocking up on paper.

I remember the start of University four years ago. I was afraid to start university and not be in my tiny bubble of high school. I was lucky to be starting University with a few of my high school classmates and we stuck close together at the start, meeting for lunch and study dates in the library. I loved that we could eat in the library. I loved the freedom. My favorite part was spending my breaks in the art galleries all over campus. I could have stayed in them for hours.

In university I learned to take chances and risks-something that I rarely did in high school. I pursued passions and dreams of mine. I wrote for the University newspaper "The Sheaf" for a year and I took two art classes. I struggled in both tasks- but looking back I learned a lot about myself and who I was. Writing for the paper really got me back into writing on a regular basis and my painting and sculpture class helped me realize I had an artist in me.

Four years later, another September is upon me and I'm now afraid that I no longer have that University bubble to turn to. It is time for me to enter a new one---it brings new challenges and risks that I look forward to tackling. I'm excited to learn more about myself and the world around me. The reality is that even if you are no longer a "student" by definition does not mean that you stop learning. It is important to continue to learn everyday.

I fear change and the unknown in my life. I always have. Even if I was so prepared for the change, I still was scared to make it a reality. I don't handle change well. I create a lot of stress for myself related to the change. I think about it constantly, I cry, my neck and back tense up, I give myself headaches.

I remember the summer before I started University. I cried everyday. I created these terrible situations that I would play over in my head. I was afraid I was not going to do well in University. I was afraid I was not going to make any friends. Coming from a school of 500 people to a single class with 400 people in it was out of my comfort zone. Butterflies in my stomach were present on my first day, but I made it through. I made some great friends in my four years, I graduated with distinction, I became a teacher. While the ride wasn't perfect it was not as horrible as I thought it would be. You would have thought that I would start to believe in the good of change and a new opportunity, but the start of my internship the fear came back.

Internship was the make it or break it point in my road to becoming a teacher. It was the first time I had lived away from home and I was afraid to leave my security blanket of Aberdeen and my family and friends. I did not feel confident enough in myself as a teacher. But again I was proven wrong. I was welcomed with open arms into my new town and school and I found my place as a teacher very quickly and I impressed many people around me. Internship was a success.

Now I am done school with a degree on my wall. My fear of not finding a job for the fall has come true as school starts this week. I spent my summer stressing about it, and that didn't get me anywhere. I am on a couple sub lists and I should be getting phone calls sooner then later to start subbing. Justin tells me "Let time take its course- everything will work out in the end". I look back on all the changes and opportunities that I was afraid of and I see that things do really work out in the end. Sometimes they even work out better. I am trying to change myself and see that change is a good thing, change brings challenges that make you a better person.

Saturday mornings before our family would be off to the city for shopping my mom would meet her friends at the only restaurant in town. Halfway down main street a small building, faded siding and a small deck on the front with orange metal table and chairs. Cars and trucks parked on both sides of the street, bikes may on the grass beside the restaurant as many stopped in as routine for their daily dose of town gossip. I would usually go with my mom Saturday mornings for my Cinnamon bun and chocolate milk breakfast. I would sit there listening to the conversation, watching the other tables as the place filled up to capacity. I remember when coffee went up from $1 to $1.25, it was quite a commotion. I remember many family bike rides to the coffee shop for ice cream- half maple walnut and half cherry cheese cake in a dish. No cone for me.

The Pope family took over the restaurant and it was renamed Gordie's Eatery and Catering. The walls were painted and the floor replaced with yellow and blue tile. Saturday morning coffee continued and I sometimes went but my friends and I had our own coffee meeting time after school. We would try and sit at the table where there was a cut out into the kitchen where we could talk with Gordie and give him our orders through there. We had many favorites; he made the BEST poutine ever, whenever he had chicken lemon rice soup on the whole school came down at lunch. He would tell us the night before so we could be the first there. Chicken quessedilla were a top choice for me and the ultimate: Deep Fried Pickles. I know it sounds terrible but Dallas and I would devour these boiling hot, greasy, sticks of pickle coated in a batter dipped in the "special" sauce.

The restaurant got a slush puppie machine one summer which for a small town was the equivalent to a 7-11 Slurpee machine. The sweet/sour colored ice drinks were a favorite for all. Rainbow tongues and teeth appeared after you had one and if you had more then 2 blue slush puppies in one day your insides turned blue. If you bought a medium one you got a sucker to go with it. I don't know how my teeth didn't rot off that summer with my consumption of slush puppies and ice cream.

The coffee shop was were many plans were made and stories and secrets were told. It was not fine dining. It was small town burgers and fries, endless cups of coffee, gossip central. It closed a few years ago and is now the senior centre. Everytime I drive by I think back to all the laughs shared and memories made of growing up in a small town.

It was my second home, I could see the large grey Quonset shaped building from my bedroom window, the shingles needed replacing and a new paint job inside and out, the back door didn't really close or lock. It was not the prettiest building in the town, but when winter season came the town gathered nightly to drink coffee, visit and watch some hockey. Small towns in Saskatchewan are fueled by hockey, everyone ate, drank and slept hockey, everyone except for me.

I raced through my backyard everyday after school with my skate bag bouncing on the back of my legs as I ran to public skating on my lesson.s When I started skating there were at least 10 older girls who I looked up to and many other my age who I skated with. They quickly all quit to play girls hockey and it was Rachelle and I then just me...I wouldn't be trading in my pick and skirts for a stick and a puck. I was often the only figure skaters at public skating. It was dangerous avoiding pucks from the shiny game on the other side and as the game went on I had less and less ice.

Our rink had natural ice, it was hard and looked like glass, still wet from the Zamboni. I would skate over to the music room and play the newest cd I had bought. Stroking around the boards marked up fro pucks and age, the birds flew from rafter to rafter near the ceiling. The cold winter wind blew through the windows on the side. My hair flying behind me as I picked up speed. The sounds of my blades cutting into the ice was hypnotic and rhythmic. Seat would form on my forehead and neck and make my hair curly. I would breath in deep , the smell of the ice- my favorite smell, truly indescribable.

This old barn had so much character and brought me so much joy growing up. It was were I spent most of my free time in winter- a rink rat I called myself. It was falling apart as time went on, not beg enough for a tournament and natural ice made our season very short. The town finally raised enough money an now have a huge multi million dollar complex for skating curling, dance, bowling, the library etc. They turned the old rink into a horse riding arena. My skating career was done by the time they built the new rink but I taught other how to skate and have been to a few public skates. It is beautiful, great ice, well lit, better sound system but it is missing that smell...

Now when I look out my old bedroom window and see horses coming in and out of it I feel all these memories and moments of time spent in their on the ice. As I grew I learned many lessons inside those walls on and off the ice. I learned grace and power on the ice through my skating lessons. It is a passion that still burns inside me today, although I don't practice anymore whenever I get back on the ice that fire burns inside me to jump and spin. I founded many friendships, Rachelle and I spent many Monday and Thursday afternoons skating round and round together telling each other the highs and lows of our day, the ice was cathartic and the connection we built was strong. Many of my coaches were great role models and also good friends that I could go and talk to. The younger skaters that I taught all looked up to me on and off the ice and I felt pride at the end of the season when those who could not stand on their own where now the fastest in my group. I also made friendships off the ice with the caretakers. I was the official hot chocolate taster, and new 5cent candy eater. They were kind and generous to open the rink early when competition was getting close and always warned me about the cracks in the ice when March came around. I sometime had to stand up for myself and the use of the ice to those who thought figure skating was a waste of precious ice time. It was not always easy, but I knew in my heart that it was important to me and no one was going to take that away.

Growing up in a small town with the rink in my backyard and with my hockey loving dad and brothers it was no question that I was going to skate and that the rink would be a big part of my life. I was always the girly-girl so figure skating was natural for me before we had a dance club in Aberdeen. Today the rink in the winter is still a big part of my life as I teach skating and when I'm off watching Justin play hockey. Aberdeen's rink holds a special place in my heart and it holds a lot of special memories for many of the people that live in the town. No matter how amazing our new rink is with all its technology and glamour, the old cold barn behind my house will forever be the best rink ever.