Announcing...

...our new additions to the household: Charlotte and Maude.

They've been settling in for awhile, and things have been so crazy around here since (waaaaay before) graduation, I've neglected to announce their arrival-- sorry, girls!

Maude arrived first: actually, just a week after the demise of our fierce, vile George. I was still in a deep funk, when a call came in on my cellphone during a prep period at school:

Child Number Two: (screeching) MAMA!! We found a new KITTY!! She's in the shelter, and she's SOOOOOOOOOOO cute!! Can we get her, Mummy, PUH-LEEEEZE, can we get her??

Me: (holding phone well away from head to prevent a rupture of my eardrum) WHAT?? Where are you, and why aren't you in school?! It's two o'clock in the afternoon!

Child Number Two: (not listening) She's white!! With patches!! Brown and black!! And guess what?? Her name's LUCKY!! Can we get her, Mum, CAN WE??

Me: (wearily) No, sweetheart. Not today. Mummy's heart still hurts for George... I can't do this right now. Where's Mary? Can you put her on the phone, please?

(Sounds of a scuffle, of Child Number Three wheedling endearments to the kitten, and then a squawk as the two sisters clash over who loves Lucky more...)

Mary Poppins: (breathlessly) Hello? Hi. We're at the shelter... I'm sorry. But the kids seemed tired, and it's Friday and everything, and I knew you wouldn't mind if I kept them home this aft. They've all got supply teachers. AGAIN.

Me: (even more wearily) No, that's fine. Absolutely fine. What I'm wondering, though, is how you wound up at the SHELTER...

Well, wouldn't you know it, it was the TORONTO animal shelter... You know, the one that was in soooooo much trouble awhile ago? I won't go into nasty details, but suffice it to say, the shelter was being shut down for a period of time while the situation was "Cleaned Up". To put it mildly. And there were literally hundreds of animals in even more desperate need of adoption than usual.

Me: (starting to break down) I hear she's pretty cute.

Mary: (cautiously) She's DARLING. And the girls just love her... But we'll understand if you think it's too soon...

Me: I KNOW it's too soon... but...

Mary: Heather? Time doesn't stand still.

And so, that was that.

Of course, I had to pull a stunt, to make the whole thing just a little more "memorable", don't you know. Evil mother that I am, I told the kids "NO!" over the phone, reasoning that I was still in mourning for the Black Monster.

Then, right after school, I drove over to the animal shelter to meet our new kitten.

The girls were right. She WAS perfect-- soft and sweet, with a playful streak. We knew the minute we set eyes on each other-- she immediately stood up in her cage and cosied right up to the bars, waiting to be taken home. She stuck both front paws as far out between the metal partitions as she could, to greet me.

Once the adoption was completed, I gently packaged her up in a cardboard carrier, and we drove home.

I called to my daughters as I came through the back door, carrier in hand, and they rushed to the door, as they always do:

Child Number Two: (skidding to an abrupt halt, eyes wide) What's THAT?

Wee Three: (claps hands over her mouth) Was' in the BOX??

Child Number One: (jumping up and down) Is it the KITTY???!!!!

And with the back door wide open, so that all of the neighbourhood could hear, my three lovely daughters began dancing around and shrieking at the tops of their lungs:

"MUM GOT LUCKY!!! MUM GOT LUCKKKYYYYY!!!!!!"

Um.

Yeah.

We changed her name pretty. damn. quick. after that.

And needless to say, I got to choose.

Maude is named for a Tennyson poem that I particularly love. She is bright and affectionate, and has helped to fill up the hole that has been left in my poor, weary old heart. She sniffed all over the house, and strangely, found all of George's favourite "spots". She immediately began sleeping on my bed at night, snuggled up behind my knees, just as George used to. I can't tell you what comfort she has brought to me.

But, while the girls and I were away at school, there was no doubt that Maude was lonely. Even when we were home and just out of eye-shot, Maude would become distressed and call to us to come and find her. The little, lonesome "Ma-ROW??? Ma-RRRRROW??" struck that ol' maternal chord in me... and I secretly began searching for a friend to keep her company.

Enter Charlotte.

Charlotte had been rescued from the streets of Northern Toronto by Animal Control, and when I discovered her in the shelter, she was a timid, sickly little thing. With the exception of her shorter fur and her bush-baby-like eyes, she could be Maude's twin. Both are dilute calicoes, and I just had a feeling that she would make a lovely, sisterly contrast to Maude's more boisterous personality. And, she looked as though she needed us.

Charlotte came to us named "Sarah", thank goodness-- if she had had a more risque moniker, I might have thought twice about her, after the "Mom Got Lucky!!" incident.

She and Maude get along famously, and she has made our household feel whole again.

The only thing about Charlotte is that catastrophe seems to follow her wherever she goes. She is not the most "co-ordinated" of animals, and so we are becoming accustomed to loud crashes in the night, alarms suddenly going off, and returning home to evidence of small explosions in the kitchen and office. Yet, there Charlotte will be, curled up in a basket with her adopted sister, looking as mild as May.

She has been more challenging to re-train from her stray, "scavenging" days: we cannot leave ANYTHING out on kitchen counters, and she has been harder to convince to use the litterbox...

But, incredibly, her sweet, affectionate nature makes up for all of this. She constantly lets us know that she is so grateful to be here, and a part of this family. She has established an especially firm friendship with Wee Three: she is very happy to be slung hap-hazardly over my little girl's left shoulder, and carted around as a playmate, joining in to a wide variety of activities. She is a darling.

We are blessed. Again. "Home is where the cat is", the old saying in my family goes, and this house feels like home once again, now that Maude'n'Charlotte are here.

We couldn't do without them.

The end of the beginning.

One week ago, I tossed my goofy cap in the air, and went tearing up a university corridor, robes streaming behind me, for the last time.

It was a long haul. And a heavy one. But, it's done.

I'm a Teacher.

Not that I wasn't one before: parents are the ultimate teachers, after all. But, it's interesting how another piece of paper with a bunch of official-looking signatures scribbled all over it becomes IMPORTANT, all of a sudden.

During all of my various teaching engagements this year, however, I am convinced that it was I who learned the most. Anyone who thinks that it is a teacher's job to simply fill up the "empty void" that lies between their students' ears is woefully misguided.

Good teachers teach because they want to learn. We want to learn more about our students, how they process information, and how we can most effectively learn together in a mutually-supportive society. The students-- both the wonderful, and especially the "not-so-wonderful" ones-- helped me to learn more in one year than I have since the birth of my first child (and whoo-nelly, what a year THAT was...)

Among the zillions of things that I could list for you...

-Organized schools are NOT the most important, nor the most effective learning environment for children. HOME is the most important learning environment for every child, and it is the duty of parents and teachers to work together and support children's educational, emotional and psychological development.

-More children do NOT have healthy home environments than do have healthy home environments. Often, it is the families who appear outwardly "perfect" that are the most troubled of all.

-It is therefore impossible to teach well, without becoming emotionally involved. And this is precisely why I love to teach. Sure, it is demanding in every way imaginable... sometimes exhausting to the point of sucking the life out of your very soul... But I'm hooked on the look on kids' faces; that look when you KNOW that the seven or eight hours they spend in your care per day are some of the best times they've had in their whole little lives. That look varies from child to child... and for this reason, it is essential to strive to know your students well. My breakthrough moment with one little girl this year was during a flood of tears, when she was finally able to confess to me that she wasn't doing her homework or paying attention in class because she was simply too exhausted. She shared a small apartment with many aunts, uncles and cousins, and could only sleep in bed when there weren't too many other people in it. This child was fighting for survival, not just her education. The look of relief and trust that flooded her face when I offered to let her put her head down in class, or stay in at recess or lunch to take a little nap, was phenomenal. There were so many other children like this... ones that needed to be provided with food for their breakfasts, lunches or snacks; children who needed warm clothes to protect them against the winter weather, ones who needed medical and psychological treatment... And I worked hard to advocate for them in the very best way I could.

I had so very many profoundly rewarding moments this year. Two of them occurred during my first session of parent-teacher interviews. While teaching grade three before Christmas last year at a wonderfully multicultural public school, it was necessary to recruit three translators to sit in and work with us in several different Chinese dialects, as well as Tamil. These translators were nothing short of magnificent in their personal and professional skills, and one was able to tell me that a smiling and tearful mother who was brand-new to Canada wanted to tell me "... that when you hug my daughter, she says that your arms feel like I am hugging her." I could not have received any higher compliment. Another gentleman, one of my students' grandfathers, shook and kissed my hand as we concluded an interview about how to best help his troubled grandchild.

There were many frustrating times, too, during which I was so grateful for the counsel and assistance of other, more experienced educators: The times when I simply could not connect with parents, to make them understand the importance of taking steps towards developing specialized education plans for their children, who were struggling. The students whose attitudes and behaviors were disturbing and destructive, and one particular "code red" incident. The times when the "red tape" seemed to gum up the whole educational process, and all the cogs and wheels screeched to a halt... sometimes falling off, altogether.

There are some battles that can be fought, and you win. And there are others where you can try all you want, and not succeed. The challenge in that case is to find a way to switch tactics... to try and discover another route to the solution... and never get so discouraged that you give up.

I'm young, but come with life experience behind me. I'm too old to put up with too much crap, but still feisty enough to go after the ideal. I'm MORE than ready to get started, and see where life takes me.

Where I live, however, there are no job vacancies anywhere. I'm looking... I'm marketing... I'm doing my very best to retain trust that there is a greater plan at work, here, and that when the time is right, I will be shown the way that I am meant to go. I'm not a "fatalist". But, I do believe that things in life happen for a reason. We have to do our best to roll with the punches, and be alert enough to pick up on the signals of better opportunities to come.

Then, we have to reach out with both hands...

And go for it.

Nearly... there...

"With ordinary talents and extraordinary perseverance,
all things are attainable."

-- Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton

Good-bye.

She was with me through thick and thin:

my longest, most unconditional, loving friendship.

"My first baby".

So long, sweet girl. Love you forever and ever.

xoxo grrpurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

The BEST of the Grammys, 2010...

Divine, Dave.

Divine.

And Now, The News.

Well, more of an update, really...

Seriously.

It's been so long since I've been a regular contributor to society, both in person and in the blog-o-sphere... people are starting to wonder if I've expired. (Although, come to think of it, something DOES smell a little funky around here...)

Bring on the bullets!

-Grade six. Is killing me, albeit slowly. The kids are WONDERFUL-- so amazingly polite, independent and intelligent beyond my expectations... but the curriculum that they are forced to study STINKS, in my humble opinion... and there's very little wiggle-room for creativity or subject integration, because of all the focus on EQAO (those are our provincial standardized tests, for those of you non-Ontari-ari-arians), which loom ahead of us like gigantic black hounds with gaping jaws. These poor kids are BORED, and quite frankly, I don't blame them. I can't wish for more hours in the day for them to be in my classroom-- I'm a firm believer that most kids are vastly over-programmed and stressed out as it is. But I DO so desperately wish that there was more scope for the imaginations... more opportunity to study things that are relevant and interesting for THEIR lives... Hell, I'd settle for just one good novel study, for crying out loud!! Instead, we are teaching them how to take multiple choice exams, it would seem. What a shame.

-I'm going to get creative in the only way I can, however: we are going to knit. All thirty of us. We are knitting squares to sew together into blankets, to send to Doctors Without Borders. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when the first few blankets come together as a whole!! I'm hugely excited about this project.

-And of course, it now goes without saying, I'm knitting again!! The arm is improving, and my physiotherapist and doctors are pleased with my progress. I'm not lifting anything just yet, but the extension of my elbow only has about 30 degrees more to go before I'm back to "normal". I attribute all of my progress to knitting and crocheting, which has been my main method of rehabilitation, and kept me from filleting my loved ones out of frustration.

-Projects on the go: one log-cabin pattern afghan (crochet), one beautiful Cabin Fever knitted poncho (for me), one Turkish stitch scarf (also for me), one gorgeous Noro rippled-pattern hat (whoo, it's just AAAAAALLLLL about me right now, isn't it?! About time, too.)

-Schoolwork on the go: What schoolwork? Crap, you mean there's homework??! (just kidding. i'm swamped, and sinking fast.)

-Girlies are fine, although they had a terrible time returning to school after Christmas... Didn't we all??? I could have used about another month off, myself. They are, quite simply, exhausted, and so we took a Ferris Bueller day on Thursday, just to even ourselves out a little. This weekend, I think we'll throw a few clothes in a bag and head off to Stratford for a little time with The Grandparents.

-Best moment of the New Year thus far? Having my orthopedic surgeon double-check my arm last week, and confirm that all is well, and NOTHING is broken. I am so thankful, so lucky.

-Worst moment? My first grade six math lesson... I was explaining an equation on the board, when my mind suddenly got muddled and went completely BLANK... BLANK!!!! I could feel the sweat rolling down my back and into my underwear, and for a brief moment, considered resting my forehead up against the chalk dust in front of me, and just begging for mercy... Instead, I managed to pull it together, excused myself to take another look at the textbook, and confessed that I was re-learning the lesson alongside my students. It was amazing how they all rallied to my aid after that, and we figured out the problem together.

-Biggest challenge of the immediate future? Concocting my teaching resume and portfolio, in preparation to begin the long, hard slog of job applications, and (hopefully!!) interviews. As if getting the qualification wasn't hard enough...

This? Is only the beginning.

A hell right here on earth.

Today, I joined a most wonderful group:

This, dear friends, is Knitters Without Borders, a group that I read about on the blog of the absolutely fantabulous Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, known to those of us in The Knitterly 'Hood as The Yarn Harlot.

Whenever the yellow beacon blazes on Stephanie's blog, it is a "call to needles" for every knitter. And today, I did my small part to help. Because as Stephanie says, it is nothing short of incredible what can be accomplished when we ALL do our small parts, together.

The people of Haiti are living a hell right here on earth.

Please help, in any way you can.

Of pride. And prejudice.

I sh*t you not, dear readers.

Just took a peek at my online transcript, and this is what I found, as my average for the first half of this academic year.

My pride? Simply knows no bounds.

And trust me, with a past heavily steeped in all things Austen, I KNOW where pride tends to lead one.

BUT.

This old dog needs to pat herself on the back, with the one good arm she has at her disposal. Because going back to university after being at home with three children for thirteen years, and cracking past the "Aged 40" due date on my personal expiration label...

THIS?

Is a big deal for me.

Now, to set my sights towards the immediate future:

Today was my first day as a grade six teacher. Scary, seeing as my entire career experience thus far (apart from rearing my own eldest child) has been with students between the ages of two and eight. To say that this considerably more "mature" classroom (although... come to think of it, I'm not entirely certain that this is an apropriate word to describe ALL of the students I met today. But hey, it's the only the first day, and I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt) was a bit of a shock to the ol' system is an understatement.

I am secretly panicking that these kids are going to eat me alive.

AND.

I have to teach gym. Every. Single. Day.

Gym is not my forte, to put it mildly. When it comes to sports, I am the spectator.

But, it's an experience, right? And besides, what does not kill me will make me stronger.

Or, as my darling grandmother used to say, in full-on Scottish brogue:

"It's a grrrrrreat life, i'ye dinna WEAKEN!!"

Right you are, as always, Grandma.

I'll try not to.

Freedom!! (Sort of.)

The cast is off my poor, sore right arm.

Freedom!!

(Sort of.)

The elbow joint is very stiff, and my mobility is quite limited. Maybe I should have taken this for a sign BEFORE I tried to clean up the Christmas rubble in my house, do the shopping, or drive a car.

Never mind.

I'm teaching myself to write again, with the vain hope of being able to complete a major art project for the university in two weeks... I'm typing-- and doing fairly well-- in order to get caught up on many, many emails. I can't take a steady photograph to save my LIFE, with these shaky hands of mine, and so all the Christmas photos will be quirkily blurred this year.

Most of all, I can't wait to KNIT.

For dear Father Christmas brought me exactly what I wanted, in the form of a delicious, new Noro yarn, and a beautiful book of patterns.

Is this the stuff of dreams, or what???!

The needles?

They are CALLING ME, people, after too, too many months of neglect.

I can't wait.

Now. All I need is a physiotherapist who will work during the holidays...

The Heart-in-Waiting

"Madonna and Child" by Wee Three, 2009

The Heart-in-Waiting

Jesus walked through whispering wood:
‘I am pale blossom, I am blood berry,
I am rough bark, I am sharp thorn.
This is the place where you will be born.’

Jesus went down to the skirl of the sea:
‘I am long reach, I am fierce comber,
I am keen saltspray, I am spring tide.’
He pushed the cup of the sea aside

And heard the sky which breathed-and-blew:
‘I am the firmament, I am shape-changer,
I cradle and carry and kiss and roar,
I am infinite roof and floor.’

All day he walked, he walked all night,
Then Jesus came to the heart at dawn.
‘Here and now,’ said the heart-in-waiting,
‘This is the place where you must be born.’

-KEVIN CROSSLEY-HOLLAND
from Selected Poems
Enitharmon Press 2001

A Happy Christmas to you all!

"The Candlelight Carol"

by John Rutter

and performed by The Cambridge Singers

How do you capture the wind on the water?
How do you count all the stars in the sky?
How can you measure the love of a mother,
Or how can your write down a baby's first cry?

Candlelight, angel light, firelight and star glow
Shine on his cradle till breaking of dawn,
Gloria, gloria in excelsis Deo!
Angels are singing; the Christ Child is born.

Shepherds and wise men will kneel and adore him,
Seraphim round him their vigil will keep;
Nations proclaim him their Lord and their Savior,
But Mary will hold him and sing him to sleep.

Candlelight, angel light, firelight and star glow,
Shine on his cradle till breaking of dawn,
Gloria, gloria in excelsis Deo!
Angels are singing; the Christ Child is born.

Find Him at Bethlehem laid in a manger:
Christ our Redeemer asleep in the hay.
Godhead incarnate and hope for salvation:
A child with his mother that first Christmas Day.

Candlelight, angel light, firelight and star glow,
Shine on his cradle till breaking of dawn,
Gloria, gloria in excelsis Deo!
Angels are singing; the Christ Child is born!

Wishing you and your loved ones a very happy Christmas.

Thank you for reading, thank you for listening.

With much love from, CGF xoxo

A Joyous and Blessed Christmas Eve...

Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming

performed live by the Choir of King's College, Cambridge

at the 2009 Carol Service, earlier this evening

DET är en ros utsprungen av Jesse rotoch stam.
Av fädren ren besjungen den står i tiden fram,
En blomma skär och blid,
Mitt i den kalla vinter i midnatts mörka tid.

Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming from tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse’s lineage coming, as men of old have sung.
It came a floweret bright amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.

GERMAN TRADITIONAL
Swedish translation, THEKLA KNÖS
English translation, THEODORE BAKER
Music, MICHAEL PRAETORIUS
Arrangement, JAN SANDSTRÖM
Gerhmans Musikförlag

December 24

"The Huron Carol"
performed by The Elora Festival Singers

'Twas in the moon of wintertime
when all the birds had fled
That mighty Gitchi Manitou
sent angel choirs instead;
Before their light the stars grew dim
and wondering hunters heard the hymn:
"Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born:
In excelsis gloria!"

Within a lodge of broken bark
the tender babe was found;
A ragged robe of rabbit skin
enwrapped his beauty round
But as the hunter braves drew nigh
the angel song rang loud and high:
"Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born:
In excelsis gloria!"

The earliest moon of wintertime
is not so round and fair
As was the ring of glory on
the helpless infant there.
The chiefs from far before him knelt
with gifts of fox and beaver pelt:
"Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born:
In excelsis gloria!"

O children of the forest free,
O seed of Manitou
The holy Child of earth and heaven
is born today for you.
Come kneel before the radiant boy
who brings you beauty peace and joy:
"Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born:
In excelsis gloria!"

The words of this Christmas hymn were written in 1643, by Jean de Brébeuf, who was a Jesuit missionary at Sainte-Marie among the Hurons, near Midland, Ontario, Canada. Brébeuf wanted to tell the Christmas story in a way the Hurons could understand, so he composed this Christmas carol, using the native language of the Huron/Wendat people. The song's original Huron title is "Jesous Ahatonhia" ("Jesus, he is born"). The melody is a traditional French folk song, "Une Jeune Pucelle" ("A Young Maid"). The essential message - of the miracle and promise of new life and new hope in the midst of dark and bitter winter - was very "acceptable" to the Huron people, and is one we can all share today.

Even after Jean de Brebeuf's death in 1649 at the hands of the rival Iroquois, the destruction of the Sainte-Marie settlement, and the dispersal of the remaining Huron people, the survivors of the brutal attack still celebrated the nativity each winter and kept the carol alive through the oral tradition. Almost 100 years later, another Jesuit priest heard the carol and wrote it down. It was translated into French under the title "Jesus est ne". In 1926, poet J.E. Middleton wrote an English interpretation that is widely known today.

I highly recommend the spectacular book, "The Huron Carol", which is beautifully illustrated by Frances Tyrrell. It includes the music for The Huron Carol, the only surviving verse in the old Huron language, and two verses from the eighteenth century French translation.

December 23

"The Holy Boy"
by John Ireland
and performed by
The Cambridge Singers

December 22

"River"
by Joni Mitchell
and performed by Dianne Reeves

Because I owe you one...

"I've Lost My Mummy"

performed by Rolf Harris

(who else??? Sorry, I just can't get enough...)

Thanks to my wonderful, generous, endlessly patient brother-in-law...

I FINISHED MY CHRISTMAS SHOPPING TODAY.

All is right with the world.

Well... with my arm in this cast, all is LEFT with the world.

But it turns out, that's good enough for me.

Thanks, bro.

Best. Christmas. Gift. EVER.

xoxo

December 21

"The First Nowell"

performed by The Elora Festival Singers

December 20

"The Twelve Days of Christmas"
sung by Dame Kiri te Kanawa

Confession?

I have always HATED this song.

It's redundant, redundant, redundant. To make matters even worse, it's one of the most frequently recorded carols, and seriously overplayed.

Listening to this song in all of its nauseating varieties, in every major shopping centre from Wal Mart to Holt Renfrew, makes me feel as though my brain is going to rupture and leak out of my ears.

So imagine my shock and surprise when I discovered this particular recording, featuring the sublime New Zealand opera star, Dame Kiri te Kanawa.

This recording? Takes my breath away.

Dame Kiri is clearly in her element, and her soaring, lilting voice is full of all of the good humour required to make this song successfully engaging for the listener. Even more brilliantly, each verse has its own little musical theme which is carried along through each successive verse, and culminates into a wonderfully inspiring finale.

"The Twelve Days of Christmas" originated as a children's rhyme that was published in a book called "Mirth without Mischief " in about 1780. It was used as a memory and forfeit game, wherein each player took it in turns to say the rhyme, and more lines were added with every round. It is also rumoured to have been written as a "catechism song" to help young Catholics learn their faith. However, this would have been at a time when practicing Catholicism was discouraged in England, and there is apparently no substantive primary evidence that supports this claim.

The date of the song's first performance is not known, though it was used in European and Scandinavian traditions as early as the sixteenth century. Frederic Austin wrote an arrangement in the early twentieth century, which can be found in The New Oxford Book of Carols. He added his own melody from the verse "Five gold(en) rings" onwards, which is why the latter part of the song sounds quite different from the beginning.

The Twelve Days of Christmas, and the evenings of those twelve days ("Twelve-tide"), are the festive days beginning the evening of Christmas Day, through the morning of Epiphany (January 6). This period of time is also known as "Christmastide".

December 19

"Gabriel's Message"

performed by The Choir of King's College, Cambridge

"Enjoy your break!"

Ironically, these were the last words my professor called after me as I was leaving her class on Wednesday, having just handed in my final 75 page paper of 2009.

Little did I know that less than an hour later, I would be lying inert and stunned, flat on my back on my icy driveway. I dislocated my right elbow so completely that the medical team looking after me in Emergency obeyed my request to be knocked out, while they assessed the damage and attempted to put me back together again.

I will be spending this Christmas, and probably well into the New Year, encased in a cast from my shoulder to my wrist... no driving, no writing, no cooking, no shopping or wrapping, and most certainly NO KNITTING, for at least the next few weeks.

I am miserable, to be sure. But pain relief is abundantly available, thanks to my merciful doctors, and the comfort of family and friends means the world to me.

I am doing my best, and am making the most of the situation I have found myself in. We mothers do not have much choice, at times like these. We can choose to fight against the forces that are beyond our control... Or, we can yield: Surrender our own agenda for the time being, and trust that in time, all will work out as it should.

I have faith.

All will be well.

In time.

December 17

CGF will return tomorrow. She has had a fall on the ice, and will learn to type 1 handed asap.

December 16

Remember, O Thou Man

by Thomas Ravenscroft (1592 -1635)

arranged by Bob Chilcott,

and performed by The Elora Festival Singers

Remember, O thou man,

O thou man, O thou man,

Remember O thou man,

Thy time is spent.

Remember, O thou man,

How thou cams't to me then,

And I did what I can,

Therefore repent.

Remember Adam's fall,

O thou man, O thou man!

Remember Adam's fall

From heaven to hell!

Remember Adam's fall,

How we were condemned all

To hell perpetual,

There for to dwell.

Remember God's goodness,

O thou man, O thou man!

Remember God's goodness,

And promise made!

Remember God's goodness,

How His only Son He sent

Our sins for to redress,

Be not afraid.

The angels all did sing,

O thou man, O thou man!

The angels all did sing,

On Sion hill.

The angels all did sing,

Praises to our glorious King,

And peace to man living,

With a good will!

The Shepherds amazed was,

O thou man, O thou man!

The Shepherds amazed was,

To hear the angels sing.

The Shepherds amazed was

How it should come to pass

That Christ our Messiah

Should be our King!

To Bethlehem did they go,

O thou man, O thou man!

The shepherds three;

O thou man, O thou man!

To Bethlehem did they go,

To see whether it were so,

Whether Christ were borne or no

To set man free.

As the Angels before did say,

O thou man, O thou man!

As the Angels before did say,
So it came to pass;

As the Angels before did say,

They found him wrapt in hay

In a manger, where he lay

So poor he was.

In Bethlehem he was born,

O thou man, O thou man!

In Bethlehem he was born,

For mankind's sake;

In Bethlehem he was born,

For us that were forlorn,

And therefore took no scorn

Our sins to bear.

In a manger laid he was,

O thou Man, O thou Man,

In a manger laid he was

At this time present.

In a manger laid he was,

Between an ox and an ass,

And all for our trespass,

Therefore repent.

Give thanks to God always,

O thou man, O thou man!

Give thanks to God always,

With heart most joyfully

Give thanks to God always,

Upon this blessed day,

Let all men sing and say:

'Holy, holy!'

Thomas Ravenscroft started his career as a chorister at Chichester Cathedral and then moved to London to serve in St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was an exciting time in London as the Theatres were hugely popular, showing plays by such noted playwrights as William Shakespeare. Ravenscroft grew to know many of the actors and writers of this era, and wrote music to accompany some of the plays that were produced at the Globe Theatre. Ravenscroft was also responsible for the preservation of the largest collection of popular vocal music which were published in Pammelia(1609), Deuteromalia(1609), and Melismata(1611). These songs had massive popular appeal and, as with the plays of the era, proved profitable for the Publishers. These works became some of the longest surviving collections of traditional English popular songs.

My brother was recently at the Advent Carol Service at St. John's Church in Elora, where he heard this beautiful, "blues-y" version of the carol, arranged by Bob Chilcott. I agree with him wholeheartedly that it is nothing short of spectacular. Many thanks, DLB, this carol is the star of the season!

December 15

"The Nativity Carol"

by John Rutter, and performed by

The Cambridge Singers

December 14

"Six White Boomers: Santa's Australian Run"

performed by the one and only Rolf Harris

Right, dear Aussie readers... please do not inundate me with hate-mail, because I love Rolf Harris... I am told by my cousins in Australia that this song is the next thing to blasphemy, but let me say this in my defence: this is PAY BACK for all the many, many years that Certain Relatives have telephoned me on Christmas Day from the beach, where they have been sunning and surfing and throwing something juicy on the barbie for their dinner, whilst the REST of us have been freezing our Canuck Arses off in about thirty squillion feet of snow.

Gotcha.

Merry Christmas, you Guffs.

December 13

Madonna and Child circa 1827-30, by William Dyce

"A Maiden Most Gentle"
trad. French, arranged by Andrew Carter

performed by The Choir of King's College, Cambridge

A maiden most gentle and tender we sing,
Of Mary the mother of Jesus our King.
Ave Maria

How bless’d is the birth of her heavenly child,
Who came to redeem us in Mary so mild.
Ave Maria

The archangel Gabriel foretold by his call,
The Lord of creation and Saviour of all.
Ave Maria

Three kings came to worship with gifts rich and rare,
And marvelled in awe at the babe in her care.
Ave Maria

Rejoice and be glad at this Christmas we pray,
Sing praise to the Saviour sing end-less.
Ave Maria

December 12

"He'll Be Comin' Down the Chimney"

performed by The Guy Lombardo Trio

I've just come through one of the toughest weeks of the whole school year... and I'm more than a little bit worse for wear, I'm afraid. I need this term to be over, so that I can return to the waiting arms of my three girls, hearth and home. That said... I am woefully behind on Christmas preparations, and it's going to be a real scramble to get ready for the arrival of the Jolly Old Elf, Himself!! Part of me is teetering on the brink of full-on PANIC...

But the other part of me CAN'T. WAIT.

Hurry up, Christmas.

We Need You.

Only twelve more days to go...

December 11

"Count Your Blessings"

from the movie "White Christmas"

and sung by Bing Crosby, to Rosemary Clooney

December 10

"White Christmas"

performed by Louis Armstrong

(who else??!?)

December 9

Virgin and Child under an Apple Tree 1525-30

by Lucas Cranach, the Elder

The Child Christ helds bread and apple in his hands. The apple is the symbol of the original sin, the bread (the body of Christ) of the redemption. The Virgin is considered to be the second Eve redeeming the sin of the first.

Jesus Christ the Apple Tree

performed by The Choir of Westminster Abbey

From Divine Hymns or Spiritual Songs,

compiled by Joshua Smith, New Hampshire, 1784

Poem by an unknown New Englander
Tune by Elizabeth Poston, 1905-1987

The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit and always green:
The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit and always green:
The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared with Christ the apple tree.

His beauty doth all things excel:
By faith I know, but ne’er can tell,
His beauty doth all things excel:
By faith I know, but ne'er can tell
The glory which I now can see
In Jesus Christ the apple tree.

For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasure dearly I have bought:
For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasure dearly I have bought:
I missed of all; but now I see
'Tis found in Christ the apple tree.

I'm weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest a while:
I'm weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest a while:
Under the shadow I will be,
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree.

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive:
This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive:
Which makes my soul in haste to be
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.

December 8

"The Fayrfax Carol"

A Tudor manuscript, set to music for

the 1997 "Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols"

by Thomas Adès, and performed by

The Choir of King's College, Cambridge.

December 7

It's Monday, people, and for those of you familiar with the

Musical Advent Calendar here at "I Can Fly, Just Not Up",

you will remember that the first day of the week means that

some Serious Silliness is in order... Enjoy!!

"Elf's Lament"
written and performed by
The Barenaked Ladies

December 6

"Madonna and Sleeping Child"

by Andrea Mantegna, 1465-70

"What Child is This?"

performed by The Choir of St John's Church,

Elora, Ontario, Canada.

What Child is this who, laid to rest

On Mary's lap is sleeping?

Whom Angels greet with anthems sweet,

While shepherds watch are keeping?

This, this is Christ the King,

Whom shepherds guard and Angels sing;

Haste, haste, to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.

Why lies He in such mean estate,

Where ox and ass are feeding?

Good Christians, fear, for sinners here

The silent Word is pleading.

Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,

The cross be borne for me, for you.

Hail, hail the Word made flesh,

The Babe, the Son of Mary.

So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh,

Come peasant, king to own Him;

The King of kings salvation brings,

Let loving hearts enthrone Him.

Raise, raise a song on high,

The virgin sings her lullaby.

Joy, joy for Christ is born,

The Babe, the Son of Mary.

"What Child Is This" was written by English poet and lay theologian William Chatterton Dix as a poem entitled "The Manger Throne". It was first used as a hymn text in Sir John Stainer's Christmas Carols New and Old, 1871. It's well-known tune, "Greensleeves", is a traditional English ballad with an interesting history. The earliest known publication of this tune is in two books of 1580. One is by Richard Jones, entitled "A new Northerne Dittye of the Lady Greene Sleeves", and the other is by Edward White: "A ballad, being the Ladie Greene Sleeves Answere to Donkyn his frende".

William Shakespeare mentions it twice in "The Merry Wives of Windsor":

I would have sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no more adhere and keep place together than the Hundredth Psalm to the tune of 'Green Sleeves.'

(Act II, Scene one)

Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of 'Green Sleeves.'

(Act V, Scene five)

Another one of its early appearances as a hymn tune was as the setting for “Carol for New Year’s Day, to the tune of Green Sleeves". "The old year now is fled" is from a black-letter collection printed in 1642, and can be found in the Ashmoleon Library in Oxford.