Here We Come A-Wassailing Barbie

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a-wassailing,
So fair to be seen:

Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you,
A happy New Year,
And God send you a happy new year.

The custom of wassailing  is over 600 years old.  The word has roots in Old English (I actually have a university credit in Old English, so useful). It meant "Be well".   Originally, the tradition was to pass a bowl of a spiced drink around the members of a household.  As each drank from the bowl, the assembly would wish the drinker the best of the season, "Waes Hael". 

I wonder who was the first mildly inebriated soul to say,"Let's go over and visit our neighbours and let them drink too!"  For, over time, the tradition changed and people went door to door spreading season's cheer.  (Go back to the blog on August 28th, Mummer Barbie and her Ugly Stick.)

When we were kids, my favourite thing to do was to go visit any of my mother's 10 siblings and their kids.  Sometimes, after we arrived at one house, we'd all decide to visit a third family group and if enough of us gathered, we sang.

My father always put on his uniform and went to the mess on New Year's Day for a levee.  This  tradition harks back to the seventeenth century and owes much to the fur traders.  They drank a concoction they called le sang du caribou.  The English changed the formula and called it moose milk.  

Final note, one version of the drink in the Wassail bowl was a mixture called lamb's wool.  It had little pieces of toast floating on top that (to someone's eyes) resembled lamb's wool and it left us with a new meaning for the word 'toast'.  

To your health!

Angels We have Heard on High Barbie

My father wasn't noted for his gift-giving acumen and my mother attached great importance to presents.  She loved to give gifts as much as she loved to receive them.   I still treasure many of the gifts she gave to me, and yet I cannot remember a single gift she gave to my dad.  I do remember some of the sparks that flew after she opened gifts he'd chosen for her.

One Christmas, he bought a pretty blue blouse.  I was with him when he got it and he was very pleased to have found it.  Mom wasn't pleased when she opened it.  "I have EXACTLY the same blouse hanging in my closet already," she fumed.  "Well", he said, "I knew it would look good on you."

There was the year he showed up with a dead plant.  "It was on sale."

One year he had her diamond engagement ring reset and bought a new wedding band to match.  That was an okay year.  I think she'd have been much happier with a brand new ring but he couldn't bring himself to buy her another ring.  It was a perfectly good diamond and she only had one ring finger.

Another year he bought her a bathroom hamper.  It was a very nice bathroom hamper.  It was a particularly bad gift.  

But then one year Mom unwrapped a beautiful mink coat.  It was soft and rich and lush and perfect.  And she felt like a precious angel every time she wore it.  Dad had finally managed to give her a gift that made her eyes pop out, just like my eyes did the year she gave me my first Barbie.

Deck the Halls Barbie

Deck the Halls Barbie

Decorating a Christmas tree correctly is a key component of a perfect Christmas.  It's okay for hotel and museum lobbies to have pink Christmas trees or trees wrapped in ribbon or even themed trees decorated with owls or cars or whatever.  But for the living room of your own home,  Barbie knows there is no messing with tradition. 

Once the tree was positioned to maximize its potential, we all watched as my father put the strings of lights in place.  When Barbie was young, lights were wired in sequence so the whole string went dark if one bulb burnt out.  Finding the defective bulb meant starting at one end of the string and screwing and unscrewing the bulbs until the string blinked on again. It was a real pain if two bulbs went out at the same time.

I have seen movies where as a final step the star or angel is ceremoniously placed on top of the tree by the youngest child.  Poppycock!  The star has to go on first, because all the electrical cords have to dangle down the back and all the plugs have to go into the power bar. You can't fool Barbie with that Hollywood pretense. This is the real world.

Next my mother was tasked with hanging the silver garland.  Its festoons were not just there to add glitter.  Draped properly the garland disguised any imperfections that weren't hidden against the wall. 

Now we kids were allowed to hang the ornaments, all those pretty glass balls and silver icicles. The most beautiful went near the top of the tree.  The plan was to protect them from the smallest fingers in the house but when the tree fell over (as it did once) those were the ornaments that broke because they had the longest trajectory.

Finally, the tinsel.  This was the part that caused the most strife.  We kids would toss handfuls of it at the tree while my mother repeated in vain, "One strand at a time, one strand at a time!" She liked talking to the wall, I guess.

O Tannenbaum Barbie

O Tannenbaum Barbie

Christmas trees must be from better stalk (ha, ha, get it?) than the ones we got when Barbie was young.  It was very exciting to go out in the car after dinner to the Christmas tree lot.  It was cold enough to see your breath and there was snow underfoot making that satisfying squeak.  The nice man would patiently hold and spin a few likely firs and we would pick one with not too many bald spots.  My mother never came on these excursions.  She waited at home for the intrepid shoppers to return with their catch.

My father would carry the tree into the living room and screw it into the stand.  The fire department always distributed brochures about keeping your tree fresh.  The suggestion was to immerse the bottom 4 inches of the trunk in water and to expect the tree to need a gallon of water a day.  Our Christmas tree stand had a shallow cup at the bottom that held less than a cup of water when empty.

Once the tree was in the living room,  Dad would hold it by the top branch and slowly rotate the whole tree with my mother assessing it critically.  The goal was to orient the tree so that it looked full to the point of opulence.  Every tree had a bald spot that had to be turned to face the corner, like  a naughty child.  One year the tree must have been very inadequate because I clearly remember my dad sawing off a bough and then drilling  a hole in the tree trunk.  The sawed-off limb was glued into the hole and voila, a beautiful Christmas tree (at least from the front).

Tree growers now spend their summers patiently shaping the trees while they grow.  Barbie just grabs one off the stack.  It is always perfect.

On the 1st Day of Christmas Barbie

On the 1st Day of Christmas Barbie

I wanted to see how a skirt with godets would look on Barbie.  It undulates and I keep thinking I should put a wire in it to better define the shape but then it might make Barbie dizzy.

Be that as it may, Barbie likes to sit in front of the tree with a crackling fire in the fireplace and watch the snow fall softly onto the quiet, moonlit street.  She also likes to open presents.  My mother loved opening presents.  She loved to fondle them, shake them, heft them and try to guess what was inside.
I flew home from university one Christmas with a suitcase full of gifts.  Mom was at the door to greet me when I arrived.  "Let me unpack your bag.  I'm sure you have laundry to do.  I'll start washing it now."

Nice try.  My mother hadn't done my laundry for me in years.  She just wanted to see her gift.  I caught her peering under my bed the next day.   "Vacuuming", she said.  "Snooping", I answered.

I was way ahead of her anyway.  All that week, in secret, she fondled a gift I'd wrapped for my brother.   A gift I'd wrapped for my brother, but with her name on it.

Poodle Skirt Barbie

Poodle Skirt Barbie

Connie Willis's excellent book Bellwether features a protagonist, Dr. Sandra Foster, a social scientist exploring the origins of fads.  Her discovery is that people are like a herd of  sheep led by a bellwether  who is "indistinguishable from the rest of the flock, only a little greedier, a little faster, a little hungrier, [a] little ahead of the flock."

Dr. Foster's research includes such fads as hair bobbing, Davy Crockett and hula hoops.  Clothing fashions are often faddish too.  Witness bell bottom pants, panier skirts, and poke bonnets, to name but three.  Barbie is by no means immune to fads. In fact, I'd say she is a bellwether.

A certain percentage of my wardrobe when I was young was comprised of hand-me-downs from my cousins.  There were some really nice clothes but no poodle skirt.  My parents didn't buy me one either but I did have a pair of very snazzy saddle shoes.  When I was 14, I bought go-go boots. 

My poor father had to take me to an eye doctor's appointment one rainy afternoon and I insisted on wearing them.  The smooth plastic soles were as slippery as Teflon, and Dad had to hold me up on every surface, wet leaves, sidewalk concrete, asphalt parking lot and linoleum floor.  He kept muttering something about teen-aged idiots. 

I wore my them in my class photo that year but since I'm standing in the second row with the other tall girls, my very stylish boots cannot be seen.  But doubt not, I looked great in them.

Barbie Griffiths

Barbie Griffiths

In the 1988 rom-com Working Girl,  Melanie Griffith played Tess McGill, a secretary working for a difficult boss.  It was an era of big-shouldered suits for women, and big hair with up-swept bangs.  I guess together, they were protection as you pushed your way through the glass ceiling.

Barbie has long since made it to the top of the corporate ladder but will never forget the climb.

After I was born, my mother became a stay-at-home mother.   Years later,  she went back to work as a bookkeeper in another branch of the same department store chain where I'd sold lingerie.  She loved working and she really, really loved payday.

She showed me the bankbook for the joint account she shared with my father.  Beside every deposit she made, there was a tick mark to indicate that that was her money.  Dad observed glumly that only the deposits had tick marks, not the withdrawals.

Wish Book Barbie

Merry Christmas Princess Angel Barbie 2014

The arrival of the Sears Wishbook was much heralded by the kids in our family.  We had a game where we sat with the catalogue on the coffee table and turned the pages.  The goal was to slap your hand on the photo of a toy first while saying, "I want this one!" hence claiming it as your own.  My mother would play it with us and she was fast.

Winter toys like skates and sleds I remember as being popular as were board games and books.  (I wanted to own the complete Nancy Drew series and the Tom Corbett series, the Hardy Boys, Cherry Ames and everything by L.M. Montgomery.)

Anyway, a very exciting page displayed the annual Collector Barbie.  Always dressed in a fabulous gown, with jewels and beautiful long hair, I dubbed her the Merry Christmas Princess Angel Barbie.  (I checked, this year's costs $49.00 and is wearing a pretty red and gold dress.)  This is my version for 2014.

About Your Size Barbie

About Your Size Barbie

I went to the mall today to begin my Christmas shopping.

During my misspent youth, I worked at the normal number of low-paying jobs, babysitting, cleaning, day-camp counselor, bartender, food server at military mess, sales staff at a cigarette bar, and retail clerk in a small department store.  I enjoyed all the jobs well enough, most of the time, although  I did decide never to smoke or drink or have children.

Most significantly, I swore a solemn oath never, ever to work retail at Christmas again.  

In November, the racks in the lingerie section of the store where I worked was packed tightly with pyjamas, nightgowns and robes.   Most of the customers were women choosing gifts ... until Christmas Eve.  In the morning, men were waiting outside before the doors opened and all day the department was thronged.  No one seemed to know what size his wife wore.  "She's about your size, maybe a little shorter, taller, fatter, thinner." 

On Boxing Day, all the wives came in to return their Christmas presents.

Miniskirt Barbie

Miniskirt Barbie

Why do we let ourselves be imprisoned by our clothes?

Thomas Raddall in his book Halifax, Warden of the North said that fashionable young ladies in 1795  wore one-piece dresses made of a light fabric such as batiste or lawn.  The garments were cut very low with a ribbon tied around the torso, just under the bust line.  He also said that the young women wore very little underneath and if one of them were to be caught in a sudden rainstorm while walking down the street today, she would be arrested on the spot. 

The fear of incarceration for indecent exposure would have kept me confined to quarters.

I first read Thomas Radall's book when I was still wearing miniskirts.  Miniskirts also restricted fashionable women as the short hemlines were not designed with freedom of movement or modesty in mind.  Any bending at the waist (as one does to sit, leave and enter a car or pick things up),  had to be done very, very carefully. 

Don't bend over, Barbie.   Just lean to the side.  That's right, lean to the side.

Remembrance Day Barbie

Remembrance Day Barbie 2

Remembrance Day Barbie 1

Remembrance Day is not a Statutory Holiday (Private Member's Bills notwithstanding) but it is a day that is marked by many people.

When November 11th falls on the weekend, I can join the somber throngs of people at the War Memorial in Confederation Square.  The children's choir sings in a treble key far above my alto range.  Several religious leaders read invocations.  Dignitaries including the Prime Minister, the Governor General and the Mayor lay wreaths.  The Silver Cross Mother breaks all of our hearts when she steps forward to lay a wreath.  The cannons on Parliament Hill rattle the windows on Sparks Street.  The part that touches me deeply is the Last Post calling everyone to begin the Silence.  The gun sounds at 11:00, the Peace Tower clock begins to toll.  Then after two minutes we hear the second gun and the piper plays the Lament.  It is very moving.

Most years I have to work so I take my class to the War Museum.  Admission is free and many veterans are in attendance to serve as docents. The Lebreton Gallery has big-screen televisions broadcasting the ceremonies at the War Memorial.  The museum has a fantastic feature; a window that allows a shaft of light to pierce the building and illuminate the headstone of an unknown soldier at exactly 11:00 on November 11th. In Regeneration Hall, there is a window that  looks out to the Peace Tower.  Here, casts from the Vimy Ridge Memorial are displayed and you can hear a haunting sound-scape that was recorded during the construction phase. The wind blowing through the unfinished structure had a weird resonance that could be heard for miles.

This year people will particularly remember Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent who was killed in Montreal.  And all will be very aware that they are the National War Memorial where a gunman killed Cpl. Nathan Cirillo as he stood guard.

Lest We Forget/ N'oublions Jamais

A Gift of Barbie

Mary's Barbie back view of bow

Mary's Barbie

When I got home from school this week, there was a mystery parcel waiting on my front doorstep sort of like an abandoned baby.  The mailing sticker priced it at <$25.00 but the packaging suggested that the contents were much more valuable.  A solid cardboard box, layers of wide sticky tape, a cascade of pink shipping peanuts, and then two layers of bubble wrap.  This was treasure indeed!  And sure enough,  inside it all, I found gold.

My friend, Mary, lives in the United States now.  She moved there a long time ago and we don't see one another or even e-mail for months sometimes.  But, with kindred spirits, time and distance fade away when we are together and the conversation resumes exactly where we left off.  Mary is very artistic.  She is a painter,a photographer and a master knitter.  Mary has been watching the Barbie Project from her home and her very clever fingers were inspired to make a contribution.

What a gorgeous addition to the Barbie Project!   She is beautiful and Mary's attention to tiny detail is apparent in every stitch.

Blue Satin Barbie

Blue Satin Barbie

It's important to have a knock-them-dead outfit to wear to the ballet.  I am a big fan of the pink tutu and  toe shoes style of ballet although if I have to watch Giselle again I think I will spit. 

My season ballet tickets to the National Art Center are for front row, center seats in the Mezzanine, the lowest balcony.  I think they are the best seats in the house.  I want them to engrave my name on the back of the chair because I sit there for the Pops concerts and the Broadway musicals too.

I always wear comfortable clothes to a show.  Sometimes we have to sit for several hours so tight, itchy clothes are not suitable.  And what if I decide to take a nap?  Besides, I paid to see the performers.  No one paid to see me.

Barbie is a performer even when she is in the audience.

                                                                    

Headless Barbie

Headless Barbie, the Hallowe'en Witch

I wonder when the first Barbie was beheaded. I KNOW who did the deed, a little brother.  Younger siblings have been destroying precious objects since the beginning of time.  Retribution is seldom as swift or severe as the indignant older child would like. 

As Hallowe'en approaches,  I realize that all is not lost.  And so, I present a headless Barbie, Hallowe'en Witch Barbie.  Curse them, Barbie!  Cast an evil spell and break all the toys of every little brother or sister who broke my stuff on purpose!

Oops, did I say that out loud?

Barbie Havisham

I have always called this one Barbie Havisham after the character in Dicken's Great Expectations.  Dressed in white, with her pale skin and long, black hair this Barbie seems spectral or even witchy to me.

Barbie Havisham

Dickens said Miss Havisham was "the witch of the place".  She was jilted on her wedding day and never recovered from the trauma.  She spent the rest of her life in a vendetta against men,  poisoning her adopted daughter's attitudes in the hopes that the beautiful Estella would destroy the lives of many men.  Miss Havisham wore the rags of her wedding dress.   Her wedding feast (including the cake) remained uneaten and rotting on a large table.

She is presented as a very dramatic character but one detail rendered her clownish to me. She wore only one shoe as she hadn't put the second one on her foot when she got the news that her betrothed would not be joining her at the altar.  Since most brides choose to wear high heels with their wedding finery,  I have always pictured Miss Havisham lurching around like Igor from the old
Frankenstein movies.   How scary is that?!

Swish Walk Barbie

The opening sequence of the Merchant-Ivory movie Howard's End begins with the camera following  a woman who is wearing a dress with a train.  She is outside and her train swishes unheeded behind her as she walks.  I remember absolutely nothing else of the film although it did garner many awards including an Oscar for Emma Thompson.

Swish Walk Barbie

The word  'swish' in  the last paragraph describes the way the skirt moves making a sibilant sound.  Swish can also mean sophisticated or fashionable.   Barbie often wears swish clothes to the many glamorous events she attends.

In the autumn, Barbie likes to go for swish walks in the forest.  A swish walk is only possible after the leaves have begun to fall.  As you stroll along, you hear the swish, the rustling of dry leaves underfoot.

Picture an ideal day. The tree limbs are bare and the sky is deeply blue.  The red, orange and gold colours swish underfoot, the dark branches reach up to the clear sky and there is a hint of cold in the air.  Complete the walk with a wood fire and cinnamon-scented apple cider.

I think I just described heaven.

Oktoberfest Barbie

Oktoberfest Barbie

I always thought Oktoberfest was a harvest festival like Thanksgiving.  It seems I was wrong.

Oktoberfest's roots reach back to the wedding of King Ludwig 1 of Bavaria in 1810.  It was a protracted celebration and on the 5th day horse races were held.  The horse races must have been quite entertaining because they were held again the next year.  And that was the birth of Oktoberfest.  In Munich it is celebrated in September now (better weather).  There the party lasts for about 16 days or so.  The exact dates seem to be calculated by the same committee that decides when Easter will be each year.

As with any really good idea, the festival has spread to many places including Argentina, Australia, Canada, India, South Africa, the United States, Brazil, Viet Nam, Chile, Sri Lanka, and, of course, Palestine.

In 2013, 6.4 million people visited Oktoberfest in Munich.  With crowds this big, it is not surprising that so few people noticed Barbie in the army of  servers.  Lucky me, I got a photo.  Ein Prosit!

Super Moon Barbie

Oh, shine on, shine on, harvest moon, up in the sky.  
I ain't had no lovin' since January, February, June or July.  
Snow time ain't no time to stay outdoors and spoon, 
So shine on, shine on, harvest moon - for me and my gal.

On July 12 the perigee moon shone over Witless Bay in Newfoundland.  The sky was the most amazing deep blue and the moon was  a spectacular glowing orange.   My two favourite colours saturated my eyes and the camera could not capture the intensity or the immensity of it.

Barbie appreciates the colour combination too so has chosen it to wear to the Harvest Moon Ball on October 8th.

In university, one of my flatmates  was a psychology major.   He brought home a set of eight little cards,  a colour personality test.  The idea was that you ordered the cards from favourite to least favourite colour; then you mixed the cards up and chose again.  This was supposed to be revealing.  All it revealed to me was that I really like deep, rich blue and bright orange together.

I just checked and you can do the test on-line now.  It is still supposed to be revealing.  I was underwhelmed.

Barbie the Bruce

Barbie the Bruce

We all love to watch the highland dancers with their beautiful kilts and ghillie-shod feet.  I also like the intricate patterns and figures of Scottish country dancing.  The progressive dances are particularly interesting because the dancers repeat the formations but from different positions.  For people like me with left/right issues this is amazing. 

There is a legend told of the Scottish king, Robert the Bruce.  It is probably apocryphal but it's a good story.  He was hiding in a cave, on the run from the English.  He watched a spider trying to spin a web between two rocks.  The spider was very ambitious and initially failed to span the distance.  It tried again and again until it succeeded.  Robert took heart from this and rode into battle once more.  He was ultimately crowned King of Scotland.

I wonder if the people of Scotland who favour independence will try again.

It took me seven tries to write this.

Barbie's Ugly Dress

Barbie's Ugly Dress

Did anyone hear the CBC Radio program Tapestry on the topic of Narcissism?  They were talking about me.  I heard my personality being eviscerated on the radio.  My worst flaw was exposed for all to see.  Did you know one of the defining characteristics of a narcissist is the inability to see the truth in oneself?

Apparently writing blogs and posting on Facebook are common manifestations of this particular personality disorder.

I took the personality test on the CBC website to see how I rated on the narcissistic scale.  Normal is around 15 and reality show contestants tend to score about 19.  My score was 4.  That makes me a narcissist and a self-deluded liar!

I mentioned in an earlier post that I teach English as a Second Language to new Canadians.  Language learners are often blind to the nuances of the language and can make glaring mistakes in register.  A common example would be to use the crude synonym for  a bodily function rather than a more acceptable one like defecate.

Sometimes I take newly produced Barbies to school to show off.  (I TOLD you I was a narcissist.)  The one shown here was included in a group of four or five.  A lovely young woman from Afghanistan picked it up and said, "This one is ugly."  I explained that her sentence was blunt to the point of rudeness and suggested she say something like, "I like the colour of the skirt." or "There are lots of beads".  She listened carefully, nodded and put down the Barbie.  "Yes", she said, "but it is ugly."

But I know that everything I make is worthy of note.

My name is Suzan, queen of queens:
Look on my Barbies, ye Mighty, and despair!'  (apologies to Shelley)

There, Narcissism, Hubris and possibly Schadenfreude all in one post.  Plus an ugly dress.  

Ken, Barbie's Hero



the Blue Knight

Ken is a bit of a cipher;  strong, silent, impeccably dressed but an afterthought.

Still,  I thought  a series of archetypical heroes would be a suitable theme for his appearances in this blog.

The Blue Knight is  Ken the Warrior in all his guises.  He's  dressed as a  Knight in Shining Armour, but he could just as easily be a soldier, a airforce pilot, or a sailor.  He stands for the young men who, throughout history, have left their homes and families to join the military and wear a uniform.

I have made this outfit three times now.  The Black Knight was for my brother, the Red Knight was for my son, and the Blue Knight was for Ken.  My daughters accuse me of humiliating their male friends by making them try on the Red Knight costume.

I don't think it was humiliating.  I think it was illuminating. 

Barbie Piaf

Barbie Piaf

Why do we wear clothing?  Protection.  Modesty.  Disguise.  Allure.  And everything we wear falls within those parameters in varying degrees.

Firefighters' clothing?  Emphasis:  protection.

Burqa?  The focus is on modesty.  (I know, that is a very extreme example.)

Girdle? Someone wants to disguise a perceived figure flaw (another extreme example).

And for allure?  Aah, that's a multimillion dollar industry. 

Firefly Ken

I'm sure you all know the sad story of Firefly, Josh Whedon's excellent space western series.   Former Fox Entertainment president Gail Berman cancelled the show prematurely and is still trying to defend her decision.  I think the lady doth protest too much.

Captain Malcolm Reynolds was a heroic figure with a strong if slightly skewed set of morals.  His brother, Ken Reynolds, fought with the Independent Army too.  After the Unification War, Ken bought a ranch on Persephone where he and the missus, Yolanda Saffron Bridget Barbie, raise longhorn steer.

Ken Reynolds

Malcolm Reynolds

Barbie Peaslip

Barbie Peaslip

This outfit was fun to make.  I used  a leaf as a pattern and cut out lots of gauzy pieces from a scarf and then I painted them with glitter glue.  Barbie Peaslip's hair was inspired by Botticelli's Birth of Venus.  The shoes were found in a mishmash of My Little Pony accessories.  Sometimes Barbie hangs out with them.

The stage has many traditions and superstitions.  Never say "good luck" to an actor.  Never say the name of the play Macbeth, say 'the Scottish play'.  Never practice taking your bows until the final dress rehearsal.  Do not whistle, use real money, carry peacock feathers or a real bible on stage and always leave a light on in an empty theater.

I love live theater.  The second live play I ever saw was A Midsummer's Night Dream at Neptune Theater in Halifax.  To start, everyone was dressed in drab and brown shades.  The perimeter of the stage looked like an Elizabethan village street of unpainted cottages.  But then, scene change, all the actors threw jerkins on over their earth-toned costumes.  At the same time flower-shaped pillows were tossed across the floor, the actors all made a whispery swish sound and the black lights were turned on. We were in fairyland.


Some of the minor cast members for A Midsummer's Night Dream are Peaseblossom, Cowslip, Moth, Mustardseed, first fairy and second fairy.  I'll let you in on a superstition sacred to  Shakespearean actors.  First Fairy is always played by Barbie Peaslip.  I know, cool, right!  She is never listed on the credits. So, ta-da! You are now a member of the cognoscenti and you know the secret tradition too.

Time to Get Married Again, Barbie

Sparkly Wedding Barbie

I did not have a pattern for this dress, just some pretty fabric and a handful of beads. 

Barbie really does love getting married.  She's lucky Ken is so amenable.  Most men would balk at having to wear a tuxedo and repeat the same old vows every month or so.  Most of the men I know would balk if asked to repeat their vows at their 50th wedding anniversary.  I wasn't happy saying them the first time.  "I promise to obey".   There's a foundation for  a partnership!  And anyway, I had my fingers crossed.

Little Black Dress Barbie

Little Black Dress Barbie

TGIF!  A thousand blessings should be heaped on the head of the genius who decreed that school should start on the day after Labour Day.  It means the first week of school is only four days long and let's face it, that's long enough.

Barbie is going out in a little black dress.  She's earned a night on the town.

Back to School Barbie Day 3

Back to School Barbie Day 3

Things are settling down at school.  All the students know the schedule for coffee break and lunch.  They have established their territory at the tables in the classroom and in the lunchroom.  They have figured out the bus routes and bought a bus pass for the month.

They are making new friends.  The people in my class represent many different countries and speak many different languages.  In the lunch room,  they tend to gravitate to people who share their first language but in the classroom, proximity shapes and limits their choice of friends.  Sometimes the friendships extend into their personal lives and that makes me very happy.

I'm not sure why Barbie wore gray clothes again on day 2.  The clothes were very simple and completely unadorned save the necklace and the ribbon in her ponytail. She seemed to be trying to fade into the mist.  That's a funny attitude for someone who is the center of attention for a classroom full of people all day.