Friday, September 2, 2011

When I was growing up Labour Day (Canadian spelling) was a dreaded holiday.  It signaled the end of summer and the return to school.   I guess there was the Jerry Lewis telethon but it just wasn't enough.

Now I live in this place.  We started school two weeks ago.  Last night I attended what I hope was the last of all the parent meetings.  I've been caught in a downpour of meetings. There was a cross country meeting, a volleyball meeting,  a fifth grade orientation meeting, an eighth grade meeting, a high school open house, a band meeting, and a meeting for accelerated learners.  Crazy.  Of course I have to go to all these meetings.  I'm the mom.  I have to ask questions and make sure my children are getting what they need.  I've told the kids that I would homeschool them, but no one besides me was very interested in that idea.  I couldn't convince Farmer Boy and I don't think it would work without his support.  So, I go to meetings.

Labour Day where I live now, is a blessed holiday.  It's a break from the meetings.  It's a chance for the kids to have a break from homework which has already made it's appearance. It's a signal that all the beginning of the school year stuff is over and now we can get into to it.

School is here.  Fall is here.  It's Labor or Labour Day.

Here's some other signs of the season.

We don't comb our hair around here.  If you have curly hair you know why combs are almost prohibited in this house. The girls and I scream and cover our eyes when we see one.  "Keep it away. Away!"

Will has an army cut and doesn't need to comb his.  Farmer Boy, well Farmer Boy doesn't really have any hair.  Today, however, was picture day. Will wanted to look good so he combed his hair.  It's a sign of the season.  It will be put away, not to be used until next year's picture day.  I wonder where he found it.  He dug deep, real deep.

This is my mum plant.  My camera isn't the greatest but it's starting to bloom.  Any day a yellow explosion will go off and I'll pick them and hold on to as much color as I can.

This is the corn field right by our house.  Do you see how the bottom of the plant is turning brown?  It's telling us that it's getting tired.  It's going to want to be combined soon.  It seems early but August brought us very little rain.  Combines will soon dot the landscape and our field will be empty, ready for, well you know.  I don't even want to say the word yet.  You know, that season that follows Fall.

Football.  It's time.  It's here.  I should be excited but I just can't get there.  Can someone please explain this game to me?  Big guys, run down the field, trampling over the guys from the other team trying to get the ball to the other end of the field to make six points.  Why do they stop play so often?  First down?  Second down?  What are we talking about here?

Anyway tonight is the first high school game for our little town and tomorrow night is the first college game.  I'm going to both games.  Maybe by Sunday, I'll have this silly game figured out. I shouldn't have to say it because it's self evident, but hockey is a far superior game.  Just saying.

Well that's all I have.  Happy Labor Day or Happy Labour Day.  Say hello to your neighbour or neighbor.  What colour is your favorite?  Or should I say color?  There's a moose loose in the house.

Over and out.


  1. On the west coast school starts the day after Labor Day. That's when we usually start, but, since I can decide to start school whenever I'd like, we are in our second week of school. I wanted to get two good weeks in before we head out for our trips.

    So, Labor Day will be a break for us as well. Except that I have to work that night. No rest for this laborer.

  2. P.S. I agree with you on football. I just don't get it. A bunch of grown up men butting heads on the field. Are they human or goats?

  3. Keep to your knitting ladies and leave the tough guy football to us men.


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