Just in time for Canadian Thanksgiving, I get an email from a school: they are welcoming my daughter back to class on Tuesday. (Monday is a holiday, Canadian Thanksgiving.)
After weeks of waiting and wondering if she will have a teacher this year, they found her a spot in an existing class. No doubt some heavy reorganizing had to happen to accommodate the 1600 kids without teachers in Toronto, but somehow they found a way.
My daughter originally signed up for virtual school but due to a lack of extra French teachers she had to make the difficult choice of either give up her French studies or to go back to a brick and mortar school.
She chose the school, to stay in French.
This is incidentally her old school and the same place she’s been going to since 4th grade when she began her French Immersion studies.
Now, weeks after waiting and learning asynchronously without a teacher, she finally gets to begin grade 8.
My first reaction was whether she needed me to accompany her on her first day.
“I already arranged to walk with two friends,” she told me.
OK then. 🙂
Sounds like she’s got it all figured out.
That same morning I have to drive my son to his hybrid class. He really likes this method of learning – class every other morning, synchronous virtual class in the afternoon, at-home asynchronous learning in between.
I never thought they would push kids to be plugged in more, and for longer, but here we are in 2020 taking full opportunity of the magic that is the internet.
I’m cautious optimistic about a new routine taking hold though. The virus numbers have spiked almost exponentially in recent days and hit record highs and of course the governments are clamping down on all social activities again. Everything is closing, shutting down, or reducing hours and service.
Electronic relationships are here to stay, my friends. At least for the foreseeable future.
Next, a message comes to my inbox: hockey practices are reduced, and ringette practices ‘on hold’ while they seek clarification what exactly ‘modified Stage 2 restrictions’ means for youth sports.
Talking with Americans, Brits, Germans, Australians and Swiss, it appears similar situations are occurring right across the globe. But not all communities are affected equally. There are local hot spots that suffer greater infection, and transmission, rates.
We do not live in a hot spot. I am thankful for that.
Despite all of these dire warnings, I contacted my massage therapist last week to ask if they are open and taking clients. Turns out they did so I booked a massage. My back and neck have given me grief lately and impacted my sleep. If we had an extra bedroom I would be sleeping in there because I know my bouncing around trying to get comfortable and ease the pain disrupts both the man next to me and the dog in his crate on the other side.
The massage was heavenly! The place is small, just 3 rooms, not a big spa facility. My massage therapist was by herself when I arrived. She had on a mask, as did I, and the only time I had it lowered was when I was face down on the table.
We shall see how things progress. I would like to keep it up, visiting her and shopping local at the small business, through the tricky winter months. I am not looking forward to a dire, deteriorating economy next year…
And, I have a phone again. It had occurred to me that my mom hung on to my dad’s phone after he died in May, keeping it as a backup. She’s been paying fees for him so I asked her if she was comfortable giving me his phone. Long story short – his service is canceled, mom is 40 bucks a month richer and I’m plugged in again. 🙂
Note to self: do not put phone in back jeans pocket on way to the loo.
And so we begin the weekend.
Happy Saturday, and see you in the comments.