Got a Canada Post parcel delivery notice in the mailbox today -- pretty sure I know who it is from, but nevertheless, the excitement and thrill of getting such a notice is always a delightful surprise.  To think that someone took the time to wrap a package, take it to the post office and address it to insignicant little old me...  Yippee!!

I will relish the anticipation until Wed evening when I can finally get to the post office to pick it up!

I had forgotten how CUUUTTE  Grade One students are:  After spending the morning with a group of 6 year olds, talking about "schema" and making connections between text and self, I was rolling on the floor with laughter!  Combining ESL factors with developmental age amplified the hilarity!  Here is a sample of comments from the field...

"I don't have a schema"

"My mom doesn't like schema"

"My grandpa died when the dinosaurs died"

LOL!!!!  It always amuses me to realise that most of what I said went waaaaay over their heads, AFTER I spent an indepth lesson on schema, during which they were all nodding and smiling!

And then there was the one kid who was being tested by the teacher a the back of the room, and she finally had to go to a grade four classroom to get more reading material because he was too far beyond the grade one stuff and kept reading articulately and demonstrating full comprehension...

How do you  combat the kind of prejudice that is so ingrained, the perpetrators don't even know they are so?  How do you gently nudge narrow-minded, well-established thinking forward towards a more open-minded framework?

Eating our dinner tonight after an exhausting week, I was disheartened to overhear the folks at the next table discussing a local journalists' take on the Toronto airshow...  they were dismissive and rolled their eyes over said journalist's suggestion that for our many Canadians who arrive from other lands (lands where the terrors of war are alive and well today, not just in history books) the airshow presents a frightening obstacle to recovery.

I was dismayed at our restaurant neighbours' thoughtless dismissal of this argument because I know it to be a valid one.  My own grandmother was a WW2 survivor, and she told me many a horror story of the decimation of her beautiful and historical European hometown during the ravages of a never-ending war.  The untold stories of starvation, death of children, rape by strangers and countrymen alike would suggest themselves only periodically in the sad, sad eyes that grew even sadder as she suddenly became silent, remembering this friend or that family member, or a favourite building or article from the home that hadn't been seen or thought of in decades.  I remember when the annual airshow approached, my grandmother would become particularly sensitive, as her undiagnosed PTSD flared up with every fighter plane that roared overhead.  She once commented, "We had to hear that noise every day, along with alarm raids, for 6 years straight -- wasn't that enough?"

The dismissive comments of our table neighbours were clearly made by people who--although they had perhaps served overseas for a time -- were given the gift, the opportunity of returning home to their families, their houses and community buildings still standing, and a country still in one piece.

I wish I had the patience, the tolerance, the empathy to speak kindly to them, and invite them to explore further the very real trauma a loud, noisy event like the 3-day airshow causes tcausualties of war who come to our fine country for peace and restoration.

Is there any musical genius greater than Bach?  I think not!

Listening to his sonata 3 in C this morning on the subway, I marvelled that Bach had never stood atop the CN tower to gaze out upon man's creation, nor had he travelled by airplane t the far reaches of the world.  No, this man, undistracted by technology and other modern conveniences was  clearly inspired by God alone.

Incredible, the depths of his musical brilliance!

This morning greeted me with a mild but growing wind (to announce the imminant arrival of Earl!) and a smiling sunflower from the neighbour's garden.  I took a walk along the beach, pausing briefly in the new music cabin to envision the future...

The boys, meanwhile, are creating all manner of mess in their room -- amazingly, they can play undisturbed for hours together and side by side when we are here, leaving me and Trevor to pursue our own adventures uninterrupted.

Now it's off to check some emails and do a little online work before our friend and Grasscutter arrives for waffles and whipped cream!

Much as I love Toronto, I can't say I was missing it when I woke up in PEI this morning, the gentle lull of the ocean in the distant background, the morning song of the birds nearby...  Although I had gone to bed WAY too late (I always foolishly get sucked into unpacking EVERYTHING the night we arrive!!!), I had to get up and enjoy the morning feast of our Atlantic home!

Stepping outside, the air was fresh, prompting me to take my morning yoga session outdoors on the deck.

I am curious how tomorrow's close encounter with Hurricane Earl will affect my enamourment with PEI... perhaps my next blog will be about our eagerness to return to the safety of our urban apartment (that's assuming we still have electricity out here so I can even get online to share those thoughts!)