A new Christmas day. An auction. A gift of potential riches. Everyone needs an oil change from time to time… Merry Christmas.
I read an article about Christmas and nostalgia this week. Through examples of marketing, the writer cited (almost) faux nostalgia as the one element that sold Christmas to the masses year after year. I read and understood the angle. Nostalgia gets most of us at some point. I realised that the nostalgic feeling washes over me every December. Particularly potent in the past few years. But I discovered that this nostalgia comes only from the experience of Christmas. The expectation of seeing loved ones, knowing that nothing can interrupt the flow of conversation and merriment. We are entitled to this time together.
The fan in the garden made me think of the many faces of a family. The personalities, the familiarities, the opinions, all the different ‘colours’ that make up the nostalgia of a family Christmas.
Another use of ‘ColourSplash’ but it seemed suitable.
Paths flow in different directions as a year progresses. Even for a family, the passages each member takes can be separate and apart. But for the lucky ones or the ones that care, there comes a time when you bring it all back together. An annual event or meeting. New tales, old tales. Familiarity and comfort. The twenty third of December was our time.
I’m not lucky. My people care and I am forever grateful.
A small, ‘late’ critter was revealed as I sliced through the back lawn this afternoon. There was a small feeling of relief as there had been the hint of a new visitor in the roof during the cool nights of last week. This means the retaliation process is still in full swing after a long campaign. But this was not my focus as I discarded the corpse.
Why do we cut grass? Where did this start? Assuming that history would tell us that the first human beings did not worry about clipped lawns, where did this regular task begin? Is it an expectation inherited or is there something deeper at work? Do we genuinely feel more comfortable and ‘tidy’ with a freshly, mowed lawn? I know I do…answers are needed.
The day of the annual ‘class party’. Plate upon plate of food. Savoury morsels, sweet treats and of course bottles of coloured liquid. I have misgivings about the day yet I agree with all the opinions and statements I sought out from colleagues and friends alike.
Here is a taste…
“It puts me off my food.”
“It’s actually a civilised affair.”
“It’s all a bit of fun. They are kids after all.”
“Our kids work so hard that it was great to see them being kids and enjoying themselves.”
“Rick, you sound like a grumpy teacher that has been in the job over twenty years.”
All fair opinions. Funny though…I never asked the students’ opinion. Maybe I will tomorrow…
Men with large, elongated paint brushes visited the school last week to carefully apply a range of yellow patches to areas around the yard. Poles, bars, gutters, play equipment, handles and even the goal posts. A new student with a vision impairment begins next year and the colour will assist with he/she moving safely around the school.
The fact that got me thinking today was how much chatter the yellow markers have created amongst curious students. Nothing about their purpose, but more the simple fact that they stand out next to all the colours in the school. It made me think that we take colour recognition for granted. But also, how do we really know something is yellow, or red, or green? What did that originate from? Why is that the rule? Who’s to say any of us are actually right?
It was nice to revisit the ‘ColourSplash’ app for today’s entry.
A six kilometre walk there and back today with the students. Clouds threatened and parents rang the school predicting a cancellation. But the radar on the ‘Weatherzone+’ app didn’t lie today. The walk took us to a park for the day where the students spent energy and had picnic lunches with parents and friends. I made a note on both legs of the walk how some students like to walk with a teacher and chat non-stop, some stay conveniently in between with mates chattering at fierce volumes and others like to walk quietly without so much as a cough.
I liked the distance between us and the group ahead for a pic. A little ‘touch up’ in Camera+ and I’m happy with the result.