Wednesday, December 29, 2010

You might be a hockey mom if....

(Ny apologies to Jeff Foxworthy and his "you might be a redneck" -- I've stolen his schtick). I've spent two days at a peewee hockey tournament.....

You might be a hockey mom if:
-you have a pocket full of fifty-fifty tickets in your winter coat
-you hang a woolly blanket over the stall of the bathroom door
-you have Arenas.com bookmarked in your favourites
-you have all the arenas within a 100 mile geographical radius in your GPS
-you only watch the sport but you refer to the team as "we"
-you say "keep your stick on the ice, and your head up" to your child -- sometimes when you are not headed to a game
-you can signal like a referee so that your child knows they have a two-minute time out on the timeout chair for roughing, and you don't have to say a word
-you understand the term "arena purse."
-you carry at least one large blanket in your vehicle
-you know which arenas serve the best french fries
-you decide which mittens to buy based on how loud they can clap
-you fill Christmas stockings with hockey tape and deodorizer



You might be an annoying hockey mom if:
-you have a cowbell in your purse

Any more, friends?  Feel free to add to the list!

Friday, December 24, 2010

Just some stuff

This has been a busy week. Here's a glimpse (in no particular order, except the last two which are up to the minute...)

1.  Girl decided to bath That Cat. 
He liked it. 
Now he smells like Bath and Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar. 
It's weird. 

2.  Made Skor bars, fudge, cashew brittle for coaches.  Made some brittle for me too.  Ate it all.  Not sorry.

3.  Finished shopping.  Haven't wrapped a thing.  Yikes!

4.  Bought DH a new Lazyboy for Christmas.  The leather colour is called "black cherry."  I think it looks black.  Boy and Girl say it's purple.  DH is silent on the matter.

5.  Did laundry.  More laundry.  And then I did some laundry. 

6.  Made Boy's bed and guess what I found behind it -- LAUNDRY!

7.  Girl is currently writing another letter to Santa.  She is revising her list, for the third time.  I told her it's too late.  Santa is done.  He's already in the air somewhere.

8.  Girl checked Northpole.com.  Apparently Santa doesn't leave for a couple of hours.  Darned internet easy access to all information.

Merry Christmas friends!

Thursday, December 23, 2010

A Christmas Story

This isn't a Christmas story in the traditional sense, but it's a story of hope and it is the story of how one of my wishes has come true.  It makes me a bit weepy, and I debated not writing it for that reason (soggy screen and all) but my D S-i-L (Dear sister-in-law) told me I should 'cause it's one of those stories that people like to hear because it tells of good in the world.  So here goes....

Several years ago when I was a lowly vice principal I had a student who spent a lot of time in my office;  partly because he was frequently in trouble and partly because he needed a safe place to go.  Over the two years that he was in my school I got to know him pretty well.  His story broke my heart and  haunted my dreams.  More than once I very nearly brought him home.  DH and I discussed it several times and I had his blessing to do so, should life take us that way.  You see this boy had a wicked step mom, and a blind (figuratively, not literally) mostly absent dad.  His life was unbelievable, and I won't share all that he told me as that is not my story to tell. 

I made repeated calls to the Children's Aid Society.  In the spring of his Grade 8 year I called at least twice a week for months.  Nothing happened.  I was sick at heart to think of what would become of him over the summer and as he went to high school.  Who would know his story?  Where would he go to cry?  I said a quiet prayer every day for his safety. 

In August of that summer I got a phone call from him at my house.  (This is the part where I cry, so excuse the soggy screen.)  He told me he had been removed from his home and taken into foster care.  He really, really liked his foster family and he would not be returning to his father's house.  Then he thanked me.  He said, "thank you for seeing ME, not the jerk I was.  Thank you for not giving up on me.  I am going to be okay now."  After that call I cried and cried. I went to DH and said "I can die tomorrow now.  I have made a difference to one." 

I have thought of that child very often over the years; hoping to get a glimpse of him if I drive through his new town.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago.  That boy, a young man now, came to see me at my school.  He had been to my old school and they gave him directions to find me.  I knew him immediately as he stood at my office door.  (pause -- more kleenex now).  He gave me a big hug and thanked me again.  He came to find me to tell me that he had put college applications in the week before and wanted me to know that.  His marks are amazing and he will likely get into whatever college he chooses. He also volunteers in his new community and he speaks so highly of his new family.  He has reached out to his father and they have begun to rebuild their relationship now that the step mom is out of the picture. 

He also invited me to his high school graduation in the spring.

I am so proud of this child.  He lived through really horrible events and yet he has the heart to be grateful, to be kind and forgiving, to be compassionate to others and to be motivated to do his best.  This is amazing.  I will go to that graduation, and I will be as proud of him as if he were my own. 

At that graduation I will give him a card that tells him all that he means to me.  I will tell him that although he has thanked me, I have yet to thank him.  And I need to.  Because of him I know that prayers are answered.  When I think of him it reminds me what my job is really about, and it is not test scores.  He also reminds me that there are really good people in the world, even if they appear buried in their own circumstance.  When I think of him, it gives me hope.  I know he will do great things in the world and I am so happy to be in it with him.

Merry Christmas. 
Amen.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Tree Solution

Girl came up with a great solution for our tree.  Our fear was that Rocky would climb the tree and knock the thing down, breaking ornaments and creating mess and stress in my life.  Girl's solution was to decorate the tree with all her stuffed animals so that if the tree went timber, then nothing would get broken.

Here is the mighty (artificial) pine in it's glory




This is what happened immediately after we put the last bow on the tree....















































































And now....

Now it seems after moving a few bows and bears....



















Rocky has found peace under the tree.

Friday, December 10, 2010

The Litter Box Saga

Yep, this is a post about Rocky's litter box(es), so if the thought of such reading (sans photos) is disturbing you better go elsewhere.

I actually thought of doing this post a couple of months ago, but it didn't seem, well, newsworthy.  It's still not, but it's reached a reasonable conclusion so I will write it anyway.

Rocky has always been really good about using the litter box, except the first time he discovered the dryer and got overly excited about it (just like a wiggly puppy would).  I don't have any complaints about him going where he shouldn't since. 

Here's the issue.  He doesn't like doing his different jobs in the same space.  As the immensely thoughtful brainiac cat he wishes he could be he would pee in the litter box.  If he had to do the other job he'd step into the box, carefully push/lift/throw litter out of the box.  Then he would climb out, scoop up the litter and make a neat pile just outside the litter box.  Then he'd jump back in, back up to the edge, hang his hiney over the side and poop into the pile.  Ever the neat-freak he'd then crawl out of the box again and cover up his pile.  Every morning it was like finding little poop shrines infront of his box. 

DH thought he'd found a great solution.  He and Girl bought a kitty outhouse.  It's a box-like thing with a small door only big enough for Rocky to crawl in.  It has a lid and a deluxe feature that means if you roll it over the clumps inside get separated into a small drawer to make for easy clean up.  It's also much bigger than the original box, so we figured That Cat would have room for all his needs.

Nope,  he'd just shoot the litter out the door and poop in the pile like usual.  The difficulty was it became one big pile (think pyramid) because the door was small.  Also, it was hard to put the litter back in through the little hole. 

DH was frustrated that That Cat couldn't appreciate the expense and luxury of the outhouse.  I was frustrated with the poop alter I had to clean up each day.

Girl found the solution.

She put litter back in the old box and put it beside the luxury suite.  Now he separates his business between boxes. 

Problem solved.

Ay, Eiy, Eiy.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

why I fear for my tree

I fear....






































....though it started out innocently enough. 
Just a peek.  Up here.  What is this thing???







































Just gonna look up here for a minute...


























then stretch really far up, so I can....





















....hide in this really good spot.  I can't see The Mom, so she can't see me....


























So you see, you see why I fear for my Christmas tree?

I think I might not decorate it.  I might just go with the crazy cat ornament......

Monday, November 29, 2010

you know it's a bad day

You know it's going to be one of "those days" when you spit your toothpaste in your own hair.

Don't ask.

It IS possible.

Good night. 

Sunday, November 28, 2010

you know you are in trouble when....

You know you are in trouble when your eight year old says "two-stroke exhaust smells sexy."

You know you are in trouble because if you added the faint odour of beer and Brut to that exhaust smell you would have the scent of her dad when I met him....

Saturday, November 27, 2010

how I know it's winter....

When I woke up this morning, I knew that it had snowed.
I knew without looking out the window, without listening to the radio, without speaking with anyone.

My first clue was the distinctive odour of a 2-stroke.
The second clue was the "yee-ha" sound from the back porch.
The third clue was the distant rumble of a motor with a tiny bit of a "baahhh" sound to it.

Then I looked out the upstairs hallway window.

I saw this:

















And this,


















You know what "this" is? 
It's Bravo snowmobile tracks in approximate 1 1/2 cm of snow.

And this?



















This is what a perfectly manicured lawn looks like when it's crying because the sled's tracks are RIPPING IT OUT BY IT'S ROOTS!



That other sound you can hear distinctly from anywhere in my neighbourhood.
That's me.
I'm crying.
Winter's here.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

reminding myself why

Rocky very nearly met his maker - by my hand, this morning.  I had just finished cleaning the kitchen floor.  I was in the bathroom giving it a scrub, when I heard a thud.  I didn't think too much of it, figured Rocky had jumped down off a chair or something.  About 5 minutes later I walked back to the kitchen to discover That Cat had knocked over a big basket of potted plants.  There was soil everywhere -- most of it had been spread around the kitchen floor as he chased clumps of dirt and dragged plants around the floor.  While I was cleaning up the mess, That Cat inexplicably disappeared from the catastrophic area.

I tried hard to think of reasons not to kill him.  Couldn't think of a one at the time....

This afternoon I thought of one.  I took these photos to remind me that he isn't a devil all the time.  He does bring great joy to Girl.


The groovy girl tent.
















You know where this is going, right?





































































And finally, my personal favourite....







Thursday, November 18, 2010

I'm a competitive gal

Today we had a health and safety tour of my school.  A really official, slightly scary person comes from the school board for the purpose of finding all the safety violations in my building.  In the past I have recognized that they catch things that my custodian and I miss -- ladders off their holders, fire extinguishers that need to be inspected; and we fix these right away.  But some things that are violations seem a tad silly -- like no pieces of paper may hang on any door because that's a fire hazard.  Now it seems to me somewhat unlikely that a fire would start on child's artwork hanging on a door, but I am not to argue with "the Code." 

All week I've been going over past reports and driving my custodian nuts with my demands.  Move this, hang this, latch this, file that etc. etc.  You see, my goal was to have less than one page of violations.  The average school has 2-3 pages, and big schools can have hundreds of violations. (Remember I told you many are "silly" so don't be alarmed and think your kids are in danger....) 

So today was our inspection.  And the inspector was very thorough (be comforted in that if the above statements concern you).  And.....

Da da da

We only had 3 things to write up -- I hung a fire sign in the wrong custodian room, the gym emergency plans fell down when a volley ball hit them so they were on the floor instead of on the bulletin board and we need to replace an extension cord.  Yes.  Less than one page.  That's better than any schools she's inspected so far...

I waited til the inspector left.  Then I did a crazy little happy dance (think Elaine on Seinfield).  The custodian shook his head and said "only you would turn a Health and Safety tour into a competition). 

And who cares if he thinks I'm silly.

I won.  I won.  My school won.
We're the best.  We're the best.
We rule.
We do.

Ok.  So now you recognize another of my issues....

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

stolen from an email

My friend, L, sent me a list of sentences that made me laugh.  I've picked my favourites here:

1.  I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather.  Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

2.  The last thing I want to do is hurt you.  But it's still on the list.

3.  Knowledge is knowiong a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

4.  The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

5.  Why does someone believe you when you say there are 4 billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

6.  I used to be indecisive.  Now I'm not sure.

7.  Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

conversation with Cat

I had great plans to sleep in this morning.  Not an obscene sleep-in, just an 8am sleep-in.

About 7:32am Rocky jumped up on the bed, and bit my hand.  Not enough to hurt, just enough to wake me (which was his plan, I know).

So, we had to have a serious conversation.  It went like this:

Me:  Cat, you are making a big mistake biting that hand.  I am the person that feeds you every morning.  Feeds you that disgusting liver and tuna combo that you love.  I'm the one that buys that food.

Cat:  appears to be listening.  Tips head ever so slightly to the right

Me:    I have never been rough with you.  I have never picked you up by the head, swung you around, trapped you in the closet or tied a string to your tail.  I am the person who is gentle with you -- always.  I clean your litter box every day.  I make sure you have fresh water from your favourite clear glass bowl (not stainless, not Corel).  I clean the goop out of your eyes.  If you think for one minute anyone in the house would take over any of those jobs, you are sorely mistaken.  They don't even take care of themselves.

Cat:  (this is how I know he is really smart, and understands everything I say) scoots up the bed on his belly, like a commando, rests his tiny chin on my chest, puts his front paw on my hand, sighs and then starts to purr.

Me:  I'm glad we've come to this understanding, let's go get you some breakfast.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Python!

So yesterday I heard a news report on the radio on the way to work.  It stuck with me all day, haunted me last night and still has caused me pause today.

Apparently on the weekend a family was doing renovations in their house in Toronto.  When the father took up the toilet and floorboards in the old bathroom he found a python.  Yep, I said "python" as in big, big snake.  The snake was removed.  (I hope that is code for chopped up into tiny pieces and disposed of far, far away from the house.)  But that's not the end of the story. 

The next day the mother was doing laundry and she opened her washing machine and found ANOTHER python. 

So here's where my plan differs significantly from this family's.  I believe their plan was to remove this snake as well, and then contact some exterminators.

My plan.

Leave. 

Leave the house.  Take my children (I really hope I'd be that clear headed to take them with me.  I'd like to believe I'd think of their welfare....) and move away.  I wouldn't pack.  I wouldn't call an exterminator.  I wouldn't think to turn on the washing machine, or even close the lid.  I would just leave.  The snake and all his brothers and sisters infesting my walls could just have my house. 

And I certainly wouldn't be calling the media.
Hear me.  I'm not kidding.  I've thought about this for 37 1/2 hours.  I would just leave.

Just sayin'.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

better late than never

I started this Christmas stocking in November 1998, just before Boy was born. 





































It is 14pt. counted cross-stitch.  The plan was that I would present it to the new baby for Christmas 1999, for his/her first Christmas.  If you know anything about a)counted cross-stitch or b) having a new baby or c) me, you would know that this was a ridiculously amibitious (read: impossible) project.

I got a good piece of the tree done when Boy was 3 months old.  He was in the hospital for a major surgery and I needed something to keep my hands busy so my heart and head wouldn't explode with fear.  When Boy came home it got put away on the one-more-thing-to-feel-guilty-about shelf. 

I pulled it out again to take to the arena when he had hockey practice.  My self-diagnosed ADHD won't let me sit and do nothing, these hands need to be busy.  I think it took me about 4 seasons to complete.  It became a bit of a joke for the other hockey moms -- "still working on your stocking, eh?" 

Well now it's finished, and I will hang it for Boy for his 12th Chirstmas. 



I have started one this season for Girl.  She asked me if she will have it before she goes to college.

It's hard to say, really.  Depends on whether or not Boy keeps playing hockey I guess.....

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Time




Tonight we turn back the clocks for daylight savings time.













As a teenager I loved turning back the clocks.  It gave me an extra out to be out doing my teenage-things and still make my curfew.












Now, 'cause I'm an old lady,  I love it because I get to sleep for an extra hour!  I'm giddy with the thought.  Giddy, I say.











Here's the one blip in tomorrow's perfect morning....


I don't know how to change my "Time" screen saver....

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Pumpkin Carving

The kids carved huge pumpkins tonight.

Myself, I would have chosen wee, small pumpkins 'cause I hate the pumpkin guts. 
Big pumpkins = lots of guts = big mess.
But I left the pumpkin and candy shopping to DH and Girl.  Hence, the huge (read messy) pumpkins.

(No, I don't know why Boy is wearing his pook toque in the house.  That child has his own sense of style....)


Girl loves carving pumpkins.  She's not squeemish at all.












Rocky was pretty curious about the whole process.













Turns out Rocky likes pumpkin....















and pumpkin seeds.














So Girl and Boy had company at their pumpkin gutting party

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Why I check the dryer before I turn it on....


Somebody likes to jump in

Why I stand way back after I open the dryer door




This is the "evil eye."

Apparently it is not funny to the feline, to have the dryer door shut.   Also, it's not funny to have your picture taken in this state.
(No, I didn't turn it on.  Just closed the door and shook it up a bit.)

I thought it was funny.

Then I slept with one eye open....

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Mom, there's no cookies in the cookie jar

No cookies?  No cookies, you say?
I wonder why on earth there aren't any homemade cookies in the jar.?
I wasn't doing anything between 11:30pm and 6am all week.

What I was doing (Sunday to Saturday)
-I attended: 4 meetings for school issues
                 -3 hockey games
                 -1 hockey practice
                 -1 figure skating practice
                 -1 riding lesson
-I made: 8 boxed lunches
              -6 dinners (got to go out for supper last night, yeah!)
              -about 8 phone calls
              -about 500 emails (exaggerating, but one does lose track)
-Completed:
              -about 500 loads of laundry (again exaggerating, but they all blurr together -- see emails, above)
              -reading 3 professional articles (boring, boring, boring)
              -tidying, housecleaning the playroom (yet, I can't really say "completed" because it doesn't look like I've ever entered the room today)
              -cleaning 2 bathrooms, one kitchen and cleaned out the frig
              -stripped and remade 3 beds
-Also checked 10 sets of report cards  
          -took one cat to the vet

Nope there's no home made cookies in the cookie jar.
 
I'll get to that this afternoon between report card sets and laundry.

How is it that an empty cookie jar brings on such guilt? 
It's a sign of inadequacy. 
After all, I haven't been doing anything of importance between 11:30pm and 6am....    

Friday, October 22, 2010

This just in...

Apparently Apple has a new app for the iphone...
Through the new app you can download directions to any payphone in the world...

pause

Yep.
From your cell phone you can find a payphone anywhere.

Brilliant.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

It's a Book.

Boy showed me this YouTube clip.  It's called "It's a Book" based on a book by Lane Smith.  In this techno-googly-twittery world, this is a good message.
Enjoy

Sunday, October 17, 2010

fall in rural Ontario


Reminds me:
-that winter is coming
-that we are so lucky to live in a land that grows food so abundantly
-to buy more cornmeal (I forgot last time I was at the store)
-I love fall colours -- why don't I wear more orange?
-I need to get the mitts and hats out
-I should stop to take in my surroundings more often....
-that if I'm going to stop and take such pictures I should leave home a little earlier in the morning!













Wednesday, October 13, 2010

conversation with Boy -- realities of life

So I was leaving Boy to babysit Girl.  To Girl I said "listen to your brother.  Do not give him a hard time."
To Boy I said "Be kind to your sister.  Not be bossy."

Thus opened the following insightful discussion:

Boy:  Why can't I boss her.  I'm in charge of her so I'm the boss."
Me:  You are not the boss.  I am the boss and I am telling you to be kind and patient.
Boy:  When can I be boss?
Me:  When you are all grown up and in your own house with your own kids you can be boss.
Boy:  No fair.  I'll never be boss.
Me:  I just told you, someday you will be in charge.
Boy:  No I won't.  My wife will.  The woman is always the boss.

Amen.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Skunk

When I got home from my School Council tonight I smelled THAT smell.  Pretty strong.  Like, right close by strong....

When I got in the house Girl greeted me with the story.

When DH and the kids were driving home from the arena the headlights caught a skunk on the sidewalk by my back door.  Yep, right by the back door.  According to Girl, Boy thought it was a cat.  So did she.  But DH "sped right up.  Floored it, mom.  Floored it in the driveway to try to run over the skunk."

The skunk was too wily.  He wandered over to our pool area.  DH had the kids stay in the truck and keep an eye on it.  He got the gun and tracked it to behind the pool house.  Then "bang, he got it, mom.  One shot.  Got it.  But he took a couple of more shots to make sure it was really dead." 

Apparently it did not smell at the time of death, but an hour later it surely does.

So this week:
I shot a deer (with the camera) and missed.
Then I shot a squirrel three times (with the camera).  Lovely shots.
Then DH shot a skunk. Great shot.  Stinky remains.

Stinky remains.

So I wonder who buries Pepi tomorrow?

Monday, October 11, 2010

Girl's Joke

(She can tell this one, because she is a blonde.  If blonde jokes are offensive to you, substitute something else....)
Why did the blonde get fired from the M & M factory?

Because she kept throwing out all the Ws.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

I shot a squirrel

I shot a squirrel, 3 times (same squirrel).

After my failed attempt to photograph the deer that brightened my morning the other day I made an attempt to capture different wildlife this afternoon....

Resting squirrel.
I actually thought he was sleeping on the fence until I got the camera out and saw that his eyes were open.  Then I thought he was dead....











Startled squirrel
This is how I new he wasn't dead..












1 squirrel.  3 shots.
Hey Boy, I ain't no Elmer Fudd.

Friday, October 8, 2010

the photo I missed

I missed the best shot this week.
I wanted to tell my son, the Elmer-Fudd-wanna-be-hunter that I shot a deer.

I was driving to work on a back road when a deer popped out of the ditch and stopped on the road.  I slowed right down, then had to stop on account of Jeep-Jeep not scaring it away.  The deer very slowly meandered off to the edge of a cornfield.

Then I  remembered my camera on the passenger seat.  I jumped out of Jeep, and deer stood and looked at me.  When I set up the shot, the sound of the shutter spooked it and I totally missed the shot.

Then I was ticked at myself that I'd wasted my moment communing with nature...

So I shot at a deer and missed.

Boy says there is no evidence to prove I was that close to the deer.

Elmer Fudd.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

This is the view that greeted me from the throne in our bathroom last night.













So, I know what you are thinking.  You are asking yourself "does she really take the camera everywhere, even there???

Yep, I took the camera to the bathroom with me, but not in the hopes of some great unexpected photo op.

This was the photo I was planning to take.  This is the view I have every night as I sit upon the pot. 
This is where Rocky hides, so he can jump out at me when I reach for my toothbrush.  This is part of our nightly routine.

Nothing creepy about this photographer.  Nothing at all...


Maybe something slightly twisted about the subject though.....

Monday, October 4, 2010

wavering

Look at those eyes.  Look at them.  How can I?  How can I?

Next week Rocky is booked into the vet for surgery to have his "man parts" removed.

I fear it will hurt too much.  I fear he won't forgive me.  I fear it will change him ....

But I also recognize that I will be upset if it doesn't change him.  I'm hoping the "big chop" will tame the savage beast.....

'Course he'd likely also need a brain transplant and I can't afford that!

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Hockey

Boy started back to hockey this morning.  I'm an "Arena Mom" again....

But
Sniff, sniff.
I was going through Boy's old equipment from his first forays to the arena for Mite hockey.  He was four.
This is what I found:
Old skates. 


















For perspective.  These are his current skates.  They fit me.

Rocky is not in the photo for perspective.  Rocky is in the photo, 'cause I couldn't get him out of the way.  It seems, he loves freshly-stunk-up hockey equipment. 











Mite-size chest protector.
















Four-year old's chest protector.   Twelve-year old's chest protector.
4 month old kitten.












I actually got weepy when I found these teeny-tiny reminders of his first days on the ice.  It's hard to believe I put him on the ice so small.  Sigh.  My baby's growing up.

(Boy is looking over my shoulder.  He says "and now I get to hit people.")
Sigh.  Now I can't believe I put him on the ice at all.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Boy's joke 3

What is brown and sticky?


A stick.

The Love Tree

If you have ever attended my school, or lived in the neighbourhood you would recognize this tree.  It stands in the middle of the very large playing field.  All of the other trees on the yard have been relatively newly planted. 

This is called the "Love Tree."

Legend has it that the Love Tree was so named because years ago, students carved their intials in the tree.  KB + RB etc.

If you look way up, you can still see some of the carvings.

This tree marks the boundaries of the play yard.  Students are not to go past the Love Tree.  I actually say that on the annoucements each September.  "Remember, don't go past the Love Tree at recess."

When I first visited the school, the June before I was to become principal, I asked a group of students to tell me about the recess rules.  They each referred to the Love Tree.

When I meet former students, most inquire if this tree is still standing, and if it still marks "out of bounds."

I find great comfort in this tree.  I think it's the history it holds, and represents.  But it's not static -- you can't say the tree never changes, it does with each season.  Just like the kids who play beneath it. 

Just like me.
KB + RB 4 ever.