Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Snow Fort (Winter Magic)

There's been lots of snow this winter.  The snow banks in the yard are getting really big, bigger than me, bigger than my dad's car!  There are never enough shovels to go around.  I like to help to shovel too, but the shovel is really heavy and after I push it down the driveway once and it gets full of snow, then I can't even lift it so my brothers take it away from me again.  There's another really great thing about all of that snow and all that shoveling... snow forts!

Phillip and Paul and Tom built the most amazing snow fort in the yard.  They had some friends over and I saw them all working on it from the living room window so I asked my mom if I could go outside to play too.  "Of course," she said.  "Just be sure you dress up warm, it's 20 below today."

I already knew it was cold because I had just pulled myself up on the kitchen sink to peek through the window at the thermometer outside to check.  Yep, it was 20 below, but it was also nice and sunny outside and the snow was sparkling.  I could tell the snow would be crunchy and squeaky.  I ran into my room and put on my tights first, so that when the snow got into my boots my ankles wouldn't be too cold.  Then pants, sweater, another pair of socks.

Into the kitchen to dig through all the snowsuits in the closet to find my snowpants and coat.  Breadbags to put my sock feet into first (to help keep them dry) before I put on my skidoo boots.  Toque next, and scarf, and - "Mom, are there any dry mitts?"

"Oh yes, I'll get you a pair from the living room, I put a pair on the register from when you were out yesterday."

Yay!  Nice warm mitts, fresh from the heat blowing through the hot air register.

"Can you tuck them in for me?"

It's quite a production to get everything on to go outside when it's really cold, to make sure that the warm can't get out and the cold can't get in.  It's a delicate balance between being warm enough and not being able to move because of the layers and layers of clothes.

Finally I'm ready and out I go, ready to have fun in that beautiful snow fort.  I stand on the front step and blink while my eyes, peeking out from between my hat and scarf, get used to the sunlight reflecting off the snow.

"Hey can I come in and see the fort?" I call over to Phillip and Paul as I run over, my pant legs zip-zopping as I go.  Tom is nowhere to be seen, I guess that he's inside the fort, doing some inside work.  Phil looks at me, sort of shakes his head and goes back to work.  It's Paul that stops me in my tracks.  He's next older to me, and he's always bossing me around.

"No, you'll wreck it," he says with a scowl.

"I'll tell on you!" I say, my favourite retort.

"Hmph, don't you touch it, or you'll be sorry."

I go back over to the house, and peek in the door.

"Mom!" I call, she's not in the kitchen anymore, "MOM!"

"Close the door, you're letting all the cold in!"

Back inside I go, making sure I stay on the mat at the door with my wet boots.  I explain the last 5 minutes to my mom who appears to be searching for more mittens.  John and Francis are getting ready to come outside too, and I know what's coming next...

"Take John and Francis with you when you go back outside, okay?  And tell the other boys that you should all play in the fort."

I help find all the bits and pieces and wrap them up so they won't get cold.  Francis' cheeks are getting redder and redder as he works on getting his boots on, all other layers are already on and he's overheating.

"C'mon out, let's see what they're doing in the fort," I say, thinking that maybe they will be the tickets that get me in.

This time, when we go over to the fort the big boys are all inside, and someone is sitting in the door with their back facing out.  They are pretending they don't hear us.

I consider climbing up the outside wall of the fort, but I know that would get me into A Lot of Trouble, and I only just got outside so I don't want that to happen.  I take Francis and John on a little hike around the yard; the game is that they have to step in only my tracks so I take REALLY BIG steps and then really small steps.  Then I make a snow angel.  They're supposed to do a snow angel in my snow angel, but as soon as I hit the snow, they do too.  It's a snow angel festival!  John looses a boot when we all get back up, so I help him find it and get the snow out, and get it all back on and tucked in again.  Then we wander back over to the fort.  This time, the big boys are outside again.

Paul calls over, "Hey John and Francis, want to see the fort?"

I am so mad I can hardly see straight - this is boys against ME, and I can't win.  Francis and John don't need to be asked twice, they are racing over to the fort like two little seals on the ice, diving and disappearing into the fort.  I march straight back to the house and go into the kitchen, while John and Francis are welcomed into the beautiful ice cavern in our yard.

"Mommmm, they won't let me play!  The big boys let John and Francis in, but they won't let me in the fort, too!.... hey, what are you making?"

My mom smiles and passes me a beater full of cookie dough.  YUM!  Hey... I have an idea...

A minute later, I'm back outside the snow fort.  Just outside the door.  And I KNOW that they can hear me.  "Yum, yum, there's nothing like a nice warm chocolate chip cookie on a cold and bright sunny day!"

I was right, Paul pops his head out of the fort, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just having a cookie... mmmmm," I say, my fingers starting to get colder as the cookie gets smaller.

"Can we have one, too?" he asks.

"Only if you let me in the fort!"

Inside the fort is beautiful, just like I imagined.  The walls glow a soft light where they are just a bit thinner and the sunshine leaks through.  We are all lined up around the inside of the cavern, our boots meeting in the middle, a little cramped but that's okay.  Tom has put a candle in a spot on one of the walls, but it's not lit.

I tell them how great their fort is, and they agree.  We all enjoy mom's cookies, and there's not a crumb left over.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Kindergarten at OLV

I go to kindergarten in a little orange school bus.  It really is just a little bus, especially compared to the big bus that takes me home with all the big kids.  The little bus picks me up at the end of Tetroe Road every day after lunch and brings me to school, and the big bus takes me and all the other kids home at the end of the day.  I wait for my little bus outside at the big green mailbox at the end of the road.  Sometimes my little brother John comes to wait with me; I think he'd like to get on the bus, too.  Sometimes the Derouard's dog, Punkin, comes too.  There are already other kids on the bus; I am the last stop before we get to school.

Mr. Stevenson is my little bus driver.  If anyone on the bus is sad that day, Mr. Stevenson lets them sit in the front seat.  It's special to sit in front, just like the times when I am the only other person in the car with my Dad and I get to sit in the front.  It makes me feel very important somehow, and maybe even a little bit special.  Mr. Stevenson is always happy to see me and all the kids on the bus.  He opens the door for us when we get in, and when we get to the school we wait again for him to open the door for us to get out.  He helps us as we jump out of the door, because it's a big step down to the ground.

The little bus takes us right up through the yard to the school doors.  We get there right when lunch recess has finished for all the bigger kids who are at school all day long. Sometimes they are all lined up at the door, waiting for their class to get called in, and sometimes they have already gone into school, back into their classrooms.  I like it better when they are already back in school, because there are so many of them and they are all so big and noisy!  I don't want to get lost and end up in the wrong classroom.

Our teacher, Mrs. Tansley, waits for us at the doors if none of the other little buses have arrived at school yet. She says hello to each of us, and smiles and holds the door while we go in.  We always have to take our outside shoes off and leave them lined up in the hallway, nice and neat in order along the wall.  Then we have to "walk - don't run" into our classroom. It's the first class on the left side of the hall.  The floors are always so slippery, that's why we have to walk.  If anyone forgets, Mrs. Tansley calls out "Class!" to us and we know to slow down.  The custodian, Mr. Bichon, keeps the floors so clean you can almost see your face in them, like a mirror!  Slippery and shiny.  It's funny - he sprinkles sawdust on the floor that has some smelly stuff on it, and then pushes it along the floor with a big, wide broom.  That's what gives the halls the "school smell".

Once we're in the classroom we go straight to our own hook in the cloakroom.  I don't know why it's called "cloakroom" and not "coat room" but that's what they call it.  Anyway, my hook is near the front because my last name starts with D.  My hook is right between Michelle Chevrefils and Johnny Dufresne.  We each have our gym bag hanging on our hook with our inside shoes, and we put those on now.  It's funny how clean those inside shoes are even though I've been wearing them for so long!  Even if my toes are wearing through, they are still clean!

Michelle is my new friend.  She has pretty long, brown hair that has nice curls in it.  My hair is very short, a "pixie" cut my mom says even though I don't think I look much like a pixie.  My nose is too big and I look like a boy, I think.  And sometimes I cut my bangs myself when my hair is hanging down in my eyes.  I practiced first on a doll but somehow I can't seem to cut it straight across - it always ends up crooked and then my mom has to fix it.  Michelle is shorter than me and she takes a different bus.  At quiet time, we put our mats near each other and make faces at each other and try not to laugh out loud because that would get us into trouble - but it's so hard to stay quiet.  I have to look away, although I don't want to.

When it's time to paint, we try to get a painting easel near each others.  Michelle is a good painter, I like her ideas.  She likes to use lots of colours and she can paint really Big - all over the whole page.  I'm more hesitant and I don't want to make any mistakes on the paper, and it's hard because there are no lines.  Even though Mrs. Tansley always says everyone's painting looks wonderful, and hangs all of them up, all of us kids have our favourites and Michelle's is usually my favourite.

Michelle told me the other day when we were lined up to go outside that she thinks Rheal is cute.  I agreed with her that Rheal is cute, but that I think Johnny is cuter.  I'd rather not think about that though, because I noticed that girls who think about it too much don't ever play any games with the boys - they just stand and watch.  I'd rather play than watch.  We have some great games out in the school yard.  I notice that when I do play with the girls, they often are mad at me and say I'm too rough.  I don't understand that... I can't help where the baseball goes when I hit it.  You're supposed to hit the ball hard, that's how to play it.  The other person is supposed to put their hands out and catch it.  I felt really bad one time when the ball hit one of the girls in the face, but geez, it's baseball!  It's not like I did it on purpose.  But when I play baseball with the boys, its the girls that tease me.  School is so confusing.

Mrs. Tansley has some rubber stamps that she uses to put on our math worksheets or on our printing work.  I really like those stamps - they have a picture of an elf on them, and  the elf might be smiling or sad with tears falling from his eyes.  She also has stamps with stars on them, but I like the elf stamps best.  I asked her once why the elf was crying, and she said, "Because you didn't try your best".  I said "oh" but I thought that I DID try my best, and I didn't understand why that would make the elf cry, anyway.  If I was a teacher, I would only use the smiling elf stamp, I think, unless the kid was bad and hurt someone on purpose.  THAT would be enough to make the elf cry.

At the end of the school day, we collect all of our art and other work from our hooks, take off our inside shoes and leave them for the next day, and go out into the hall to put our outside shoes on.  We usually start before the other classes do, but because it takes us longer to tie up our shoelaces, usually the other classes are in the hall too before we're done.  We spill out the side doors into the yard, and line up for the big buses that come from the high school already full of big kids at the back.  The first step up the bus is the hardest, and sometimes I need both hands to pull myself up.  I don't know how Michelle does it; probably her big sister helps her.  I find the first empty spot that I can, and watch out the window all the way home to Tetroe Road.  Sometimes, my little brother John is waiting for us.  It's nice to get home.